CHAPTER IX
"And now you have attained your object, what is the use of it?" saidDon Aloysius.
The priest was pacing slowly up and down the old half-ruined cloisterof an old half-ruined monastery, and beside his stately, black-robedfigure moved the small aerial form of Morgana, clad in summer garmentsof pure white, her golden head uncovered to the strong Siciliansunshine which came piercing in sword-like rays through the arches ofthe cloister, and filtered among the clustering leaves which hung incool twining bunches from every crumbling grey pillar of stone.
"What is the use of it?" he repeated, his calm eyes resting gravely onthe little creature gliding sylph-like beside him. "Suppose yourinvention out-reaped every limit of known possibility--suppose yourair-ship to be invulnerable, and surpassing in speed and safetyeverything ever experienced,--suppose it could travel to heightsunimaginable, what then? Suppose even that you could alight on anotherstar--another world than this--what purpose is served?--what peace isgained?--what happens?"
Morgana stopped abruptly in her walk beside him.
"I have not worked for peace or happiness,"--she said and there was athrill of sadness in her voice--"because to my mind neither peace norhappiness exist. From all we can see, and from the little we can learn,I think the Maker of the universe never meant us to be happy orpeaceful. All Nature is at strife with itself, incessantly labouringfor such attainment as can hardly be won,--all things seem to behaunted by fear and sorrow. And yet it seems to me that there areremedies for most of our evils in the very composition of theelements--if we were not ignorant and stupid enough to discourage ourdiscoverers on the verge of discovery. My application of a certainsubstance, known to scientists, but scarcely understood, is an attemptto solve the problem of swift aerial motion by light and heat--lightand heat being the chiefest supports of life. To use a force giving outlight and heat continuously seemed to me the way to create and commandequally continuous movement. I have--I think and hope--fairlysucceeded, and in order to accomplish my design I have used wealth thatwould not have been at the service of most inventors,--wealth which myfather left to me quite unconditionally,--but were I able to fly withmy 'White Eagle' to the remotest parts of the Milky Way itself, Ishould not look to find peace or happiness!"
"Why?"
The priest's simple query had a note of tender pity in it. Morganalooked up at him with a little smile, but her eyes were tearful.
"Dear Don Aloysius, how can I tell 'why'? Nobody is really happy, and Icannot expect to have what is denied to the whole world!"
Aloysius resumed his slow walk to and fro, and she kept quiet pace withhim.
"Have you ever thought what happiness is?" he asked, then--"Have youever felt it for a passing moment?"
"Yes"--she answered quickly--"But only at rare intervals--oh so rare!..."
"Poor little rich child!" he said, kindly--"Tell me some of those'intervals'! Cannot they be repeated? Let us sit here"--and he movedtowards a stone bench which fronted an ancient disused well in themiddle square of the cloistered court,--a well round which a crimsonpassion-flower twined in a perfect arch of blossom--"What was the first'interval'?"
He sat down, and the sunshine sent a dazzling ray on the silvercrucifix he wore, giving it the gleam of a great jewel. Morgana tookher seat beside him.
"Interval one!" he said, playfully--"What was this little lady's firstexperience of happiness? When she played with her dolls?"
"No, oh no!" cried Morgana, with sudden energy--"That was anything buthappiness! I hated dolls!--abominable little effigies!"
Don Aloysius raised his eyebrows in surprise and amusement.
"Horrid little stuffed things of wood and wax and saw-dust!" continuedMorgana, emphatically--"With great beads for eyes--or eyes made to looklike beads--and red cheeks,--and red lips with a silly smile on them!Of course they are given to girl-children to encourage the 'maternalinstinct' as it is called--to make them think of babies,--but _I_ neverhad any 'maternal instinct'!--and real babies have always seemed to meas uninteresting as sham ones!"
"Dear child, you were a baby yourself once!"--said Aloysius gently.
A shadow swept over her face.
"Do you think I was?" she queried meditatively--"I cannot imagine it! Isuppose I must have been, but I never remember being a child at all. Ihad no children to play with me--my father suspected all children ofeither disease or wickedness, and imagined I would catch infection ofbody or of soul by association with them. I was alwaysalone--alone!--yet not lonely!" She broke off a moment, and her eyesgrew dark with the intensity of her thought "No--never lonely! And thevery earliest 'interval' of happiness I can recall was when I first sawthe inside of a sun-ray!"
Don Aloysius turned to look at her, but said nothing. She laughed.
"Dear Father Aloysius, what a wise priest you are! Not a word fallsfrom those beautifully set lips of yours! If you were a fool--(so manymen are!) you would have repeated my phrase, 'the inside of a sun-ray,'with an accent of scornful incredulity, and you would have stared at mewith all a fool's contempt! But you are not a fool,--you know or youperceive instinctively exactly what I mean. The inside of asun-ray!--it was disclosed to me suddenly--a veritable miracle! I haveseen it many times since, but not with all the wonder and ecstasy ofthe first revelation. I was so young, too! I told a renowned professorat one of the American colleges just what I saw, and he was so amazedand confounded at my description of rays that had taken the bestscientists years to discover, that he begged to be allowed to examinemy eyes! He thought there must be something unusual about them. In factthere IS!--and after his examination he seemed more puzzled than ever.He said something about 'an exceptionally strong power of vision,' butfrankly admitted that power of vision alone would not account for it.Anyhow I plainly saw all the rays within one ray--there were seven. Theray itself was--or so I fancied--the octave of colour. I was littlemore than a child when this 'interval' of happiness--PERFECThappiness!--was granted to me--I felt as if a window had been openedfor me to look through it into heaven!"
"Do you believe in heaven?" asked Aloysius, suddenly.
She hesitated.
"I used to,--in those days. As I have just said I was only a child, andheaven was a real place to me,--even the angels were real presences--"
"And you have lost them now?"
She gave a little gesture of resignation.
"They left me"--she answered--"I did not lose them. They simply went."
He was silent. His fine, calm features expressed a certain gravepatience, but nothing more.
She resumed--
"That was my first experience of real 'happiness.' Till then I hadlived the usual monotonous life of childhood, doing what I was told,and going whither I was taken, but the disclosure of the sun-ray was akey to individuality, and seemed to unlock my prison doors. I began tothink for myself, and to find my own character as a creature apart fromothers. My second experience was years after,--just when I left schooland when my father took me to see the place where I was born, in thenorth of Scotland. Oh, it is such a wild corner of the world! Beautifulcraggy hills and dark, deep lakes--rough moorlands purple with heatherand such wonderful skies at sunset! The cottage where my father hadlived as a boy when he herded sheep is still there--I have bought itfor myself now,--it is a little stone hut of three rooms,--and anotherone about a mile off where he took my mother to live, and where I cameinto the world!--I have bought that too. Yes--I felt a great thrill ofhappiness when I stood there knee-deep among the heather, my fatherclasping my hand, and looking, with me, on those early scenes of hisboyhood when he had scarcely a penny to call his own! Yet HE wassad!--very sad! and told me then that he would give all his riches tofeel as light of heart and free from care as he did in those old days!And then--then we went to see old Alison--" Here she broke off,--astrange light came into her eyes and she smiled a little. "I think Ihad better not tell you about old Alison!" she said.
"Why not?" and Don Aloysius returned her smile. "If old Alison has
anything to do with your happiness I should like to hear."
"Well, you see, you are a priest," went on Morgana, slowly, "and she isa witch. Oh yes, truly!--a real witch! There is no one in all that partof the Highlands that does not know of her, and the power she has! Sheis very, very old--some folks say she is more than a hundred. She knewmy father and grandfather--she came to my father's cottage the night Iwas born, and said strange things about a 'May child'--I was born inMay. We went--as I tell you--to see her, and found her spinning. Shelooked up from her wheel as we entered--but she did not seem surprisedat our coming. Her eyes were very bright--not like the eyes of an oldperson. She spoke to my father at once--her voice was very clear andmusical. 'Is it you, John Royal?' she said--'and you have brought yourfey lass along with you!' That was the first time I ever heard the word'fey.' I did not understand it then."
"And do you understand it now?" asked Aloysius.
"Yes"--she replied,--"I understand it now! It is a wonderful thing tobe born 'fey'! But it is a kind of witchcraft,--and you would bedispleased--"
"At what should I be displeased?" and the priest bent his eyes verysearchingly upon her--"At the fact,--which none can disprove,--that'there are things in heaven and earth' which are beyond our immediateknowledge? That there are women strangely endowed with premonitoryinstincts land preternatural gifts? Dear child, there is nothing in allthis that can or could displease me! My faith--the faith of myChurch--is founded on the preternatural endowment of a woman!"
She lifted her eyes to his, and a little sigh came from her lips.
"Yes, I know what you mean!"--she said--"But I am sure you cannotpossibly realise the weird nature of old Alison! She made me standbefore her, just where the light of the sun streamed through the opendoorway, and she looked at me for a long time with such a steadypiercing glance that I felt as if her eyes were boring through myflesh. Then she got up from her spinning and pushed away the wheel, andstretched out both her hands towards me, crying out in quite a strange,wild voice--'Morgana! Morgana! Go your ways, child begotten of the sunand shower!--go your ways! Little had mortal father or mother to dowith your making, for you are of the fey folk! Go your ways with yourown people!--you shall hear them whispering in the night and singing inthe morning,--and they shall command you and you shall obey!--theyshall beckon and you shall follow! Nothing of mortal flesh and bloodshall hold you--no love shall bind you,--no hate shall wound you!--theclue is given into your hand,--the secret is disclosed--and the spiritsof air and fire and water have opened a door that you may enter in!Hark!--I can hear their voices calling "Morgana! Morgana!" Go yourways, child!--go hence and far!--the world is too small for yourwings!' She looked so fierce and grand and terrible that I wasfrightened--I was only a girl of sixteen, and I ran to my father andcaught his hand. He spoke quite gently to Alison, but she seemed quitebeyond herself and unable to listen. 'Your way lies down a differentroad, John Royal'--she said--'You that herded sheep on these hills andthat now hoard millions of money--of what use to you is your wealth?You are but the worker,--gathering gold for HER--the "fey" child bornin an hour of May moonlight! You must go, but she must stay,--her ownfolk have work for her to do!' Then my father said, 'Dear Alison, don'tfrighten the child!' and she suddenly changed in her tone and manner.'Frighten her?' she muttered. 'I would not frighten her for the world!'And my father pushed me towards her and whispered--'Ask her to blessyou before you go.' So I just knelt before her, trembling very much,and said, 'Dear Alison, bless me!'--and she stared at me and lifted herold brown wrinkled hands and laid them on my head. Then she spoke somewords in a strange language as to herself, and afterwards she said,'Spirit of all that is and ever shall be, bless this child who belongsto thee, and not to man! Give her the power to do what is commanded, tothe end.' And at this she stopped suddenly and bending down she liftedmy head in her two hands and looked at me hard--'Poor child, poorchild! Never a love for you--never a love! Alone you are, alone youmust be! Never a love for a "fey" woman!' And she let me go, and satdown again to her spinning-wheel, nor would she say anotherword--neither to me nor to my father."
"And you call THIS your second experience of happiness?" said DonAloysius, wonderingly--"What happiness did you gain by your interviewwith this old Alison?"
"Ah!" and Morgana smiled--"You would not understand me if I tried toexplain! Everything came to me!--yes, everything! I began to live in aworld of my own--" she paused, and her eyes grew dark and pensive, "andI have lived in it ever since. That is why I say my visit to old Alisonwas my second experience of happiness. I've seen her again many timessince then, but not with quite the same impression."
"She is alive still?"
"Oh, yes! I often fancy she will never die!"
There was a silence of some minutes. Morgana rose, and crossing over tothe old well, studied the crimson passion-flowers which twined aboutit, with almost loving scrutiny.
"How beautiful they are!" she said--"And they seem to serve no purposesave that of simple beauty!"
"That is enough for many of God's creatures"--said Aloysius--"To givejoy and re-create joy is the mission of perfection."
She looked at him wistfully.
"Alas, poor me!" she sighed--"I can neither give joy nor create it!"
"Not even with all your wealth?"
"Not even with all my wealth!" she echoed. "Surely you--a priest--knowwhat a delusion wealth really is so far as happiness goes?--merehappiness? course you can buy everything with it--and there's thetrouble! When everything is bought there's nothing left! And if you tryto help the poor they resent it--they think you are doing it becauseyou are afraid of them! Perhaps the worst of all things to do is tohelp artists--artists of every kind!--for THEY say you want toadvertise yourself as a 'generous patron'! Oh, I've tried it all andit's no use. I was just crazy to help all the scientists,--once!--butthey argued and quarrelled so much as to which 'society' deserved mostmoney that I dropped the whole offer, and started 'scientising' myself.There is one man I tried to lift out of his brain-bog,--but he wouldhave none of me, and he is still in his bog!"
"Oh! There is one man!" said Aloysius, with a smile.
"Yes, good father!" And Morgana left the passion-flowers and movedslowly back to her seat on the stone-bench--"There is one man! He wasmy third and last experience of happiness. When I first met him, mywhole heart gave itself in one big pulsation--but like a wave of thesea, the pulsation recoiled, and never again beat on the grim rock ofhuman egoism!" She laughed gaily, and a delicate colour flushed herface. "But I was happy while the 'wave' lasted,--and when it broke, Istill played on the shore with its pretty foam-bells."
"You loved this man?" and the priest's grave eyes dwelt on hersearchingly.
"I suppose so--for the moment! Yet no,--it was not love--it was just an'attraction'--he was--he IS--clever, and thinks he can change the faceof the world. But he is fooling with fire! I tell you I tried to helphim--for he is deadly poor. But he would have none of me nor of what hecalls my 'vulgar wealth.' This is a case in point where wealth isuseless! You see?"
Don Aloysius was silent.
"Then"--Morgana went on--"Alison is right. The witchery of the NorthernHighlands is in my blood,--never a love for me--alone I am--alone Imust be!--never a love for a 'fey' woman!"
Over the priest's face there passed a quiver as of sudden pain.
"You wrong yourself, my child"--he said, slowly--"You wrong yourselfvery greatly! You have a power of which you appear to be unconscious--agreat, a terrible power!--you compel interest--you attract the love ofothers even if you yourself love no one--you draw the very soul out ofa man--"
He paused, abruptly.
Morgana raised her eyes,--the blue lightning gleam flashed in theirdepths.
"Ah, yes!" she half whispered--"I know I have THAT power!"
Don Aloysius rose to his feet.
"Then,--if you know it,--in God's name do not exercise it!" he said.
His voice shook--and with his right hand he gripped the crucifix hewore as thou
gh it were a weapon of self-defence. Morgana looked at himwonderingly for a moment,--then drooped her head with a strange littleair of sudden penitence. Aloysius drew a quick sharp breath as of onein effort,--then he spoke again, unsteadily--
"I mean"--he said, smiling forcedly--"I mean that you should not--youshould not break the heart of--of--the poor Giulio for instance!... itwould not be kind."
She lifted her eyes again and fixed them on him.
"No, it would not be kind!" she said, softly--"Dear Don Aloysius, Iunderstand! And I will remember!" She glanced at a tiny diamond-setwatch-bracelet on her wrist--"How late it is!--nearly all the morninggone! I have kept you so long listening to my talk--forgive me! I willrun away now and leave you to think about my 'intervals' ofhappiness,--will you?--they are so few compared to yours!"
"Mine?" he echoed amazedly.
"Yes, indeed!--yours! Your whole life is an interval of happinessbetween this world and the next, because you are satisfied in theservice of God!"
"A poor service!" he said, turning his gaze away from her elfin figureand shining hair--"Unworthy,--shameful!--marred by sin at every moment!A priest of the Church must learn to do without happiness such asordinary life can give--and without love,--such as woman maygive--but--after all--the sacrifice is little."
She smiled at him, sweetly--tenderly,
"Very little!" she said--"So little that it is not worth a regret!Good-bye! But not for long! Come and see me soon!"
Moving across the cloister with her light step she seemed to floatthrough the sunshine like a part of it, and as she disappeared a kindof shadow fell, though no cloud obscured the sun. Don Aloysius watchedher till she had vanished,--then turned aside into a small chapelopening out on the cloistered square--a chapel which formed part of themonastic house to which he belonged as Superior,--and there, withinthat still, incense-sweetened sanctuary, he knelt before the noble,pictured Head of the Man of Sorrows in silent confession and prayer.