Chapter X: Under the Light of Two Suns

“Traitor and murderer, Roy Lee!” said Regan.

Then Roy saw that close beside him stood Isabella. She clasped his cold hand.

“It was for Isabella,” whispered Roy, “and I shall kill you again!”

Another island fell into the sea. The ice of the north waved and crashed. None of them heard it.

Father Renaudin came to draw Isabella from Roy’s side.

“I will not leave him!” said she, clinging fast to the arm of a murderer.

For woman’s love does not change for spheres or stars, neither for murders!

“Can it be possible that it was for jealousy that you struck?” exclaimed Regan.

“Yes!”

“How could you be so mistaken? Isabella is my sister! I supposed you were aware of the fact! There is another woman whom I love! Her name is Rondah!”

“Oh! why not have told me this? The misery of years has been so terrible! A word would have saved me! I need not have stood under the light of two suns a murderer—I, Roy Lee!”

Remorse, agony, shame! But nothing could undo the deed! It was committed! Not even a death to come, when it could be, at least, forgiven! No death upon the star! Always a murderer!

Isabella stood by him. If it were not for that, he would have lost himself in utter despair.

“The attempt is a failure, Roy! It is a wonder that you waited so many years before attempting my death! But let that pass. We are united once more. Father Renaudin is here. Seas and convulsions may part us at any time. If you love Isabella, marry her!” and, with the most ceremonious politeness, Regan returned to Roy Lee his dagger.

So it was Regan, Regan, Regan, who gave to Roy Lee his wife! It was Regan who ordered that the murder should never be referred to upon the star so long as it should whirl!

In the light of a burning world, their carpet the black lava of a cooling one, their witness a man who should be dead, the pastor a man who had passed beyond the bounds usually allotted to the understanding of mortals, who stood one step nearer angelhood, were they wedded.

Then Father Renaudin explained to them how long years had passed while they slumbered.

“Blessed sleep!” exclaimed Regan. “I am so much nearer—”

Then he stopped.

“Rondah!” finished Isabella.

The bird people woke after a time. When the spring of years had come they had again created a paradise.

Great fields of fertile lands were cultivated, beautiful towns erected. Magnificent prodigality of color and foliage in Nature aided them in beautifying. If they planted a sapling, in a few months it flourished—a great tree! All their plans were ably seconded by the people. If they polished and cut a stone, a hundred pairs of willing hands made each another stone look just like it.

They cut through the narrow continent, and so moderated its temperature by allowing the warm waters of the volcanic and torrid south to come into the cold northern seas; they made several such canals.

Regan was restless and very unhappy.

He had been wandering in his gardens one evening, when the star was white with Earthlight. After awhile he turned away and sought Father Renaudin where he sat beside the fire.

Regan drew a low couch to the side of the table and watched him, silently.

“Well?” asked Father Renaudin.

“Father Renaudin, it is all worth nothing, worse than nothing! It is endless repetition of misery with each day! It is a beautiful world, but it lasts forever! That is too long! It is a subject world, completely so! If I could see the face of that one woman whom I love on Earth, I would give all, all!”

“Now you speak the truth of years of sorrow!”

“Yes!”

“Why not have brought her here instead of this one?”

“I meant to do so, I would have done so. I looked that night at her fair, girlish face, so frail, her divine eyes, which always smiled at me. I noted how frightened she was, how weak and like a spirit; too ethereal to be brought to such a winter, to a land not done with its own creation, where no sunlight should brighten to gold her red hair, where her face must be ever blanched with danger! I left her, Father Renaudin, where kind Destiny—”

“Say God, Regan!”

“Had placed her hand in mine! I put her out into that winter night of Earth—because I loved her! More dreadful than any other sound upon this star is that echo which no tumult can drown, which I ever hear—Rondah’s cry when I left her! Soul reader that you are, I don’t believe you know one tenth the torture of that remembrance! If she were here, oh! if she were here, the sea might swallow the towns, the volcanoes bury my people, but this black lava ball would be a paradise!”

Was that Regan, abandoned to such grief that Father Renaudin was alarmed? Men did not die, but they might go mad!

“Regan, be calmer! I have a hope for you,” cried Father Renaudin, “really a hope for you and for Rondah! I pity you! Know that I, too, have loved, have loved and lost hopelessly! You need not be hopeless! I learned a secret of importance at the Sun Island! This will be the last revolution for you to reach Rondah! At the next the star will be captured by Jupiter and will whirl as one of the satellites about it until the end of time! You can gather your people, build and adorn! There will be little more destruction, no more such winter! The heat of Jupiter will transform the star into a world of most luxuriant vegetation! The geological changes are very rapid on such a small globe. These volcanoes will cool and die, those at the south acting as the safety-valve of the sphere!”

“But Rondah? What of her?”

“I tell you, hope! I can say no more! Gregg Dempster, moved only by man’s curiosity, reached the star by powder mines and a detached hut of spiral springs. You are moved by a greater power. You ought to be able to reach the Earth and return once more!”