Chapter XIV: “he Has Done This!”

Where was Rondah?

All these years she had remained in one place. Her grandmother died and Rondah fell heir to the home and the hidden stores of wealth which only she knew about. She had been so fortunate as to be left to enjoy these treasures in her own way. She cared for but few things in life. Her hope was in a star, lost to view somewhere on high. Flowers and sun were her treasures. Silver and gold were piled in her cabinets. Brocades and velvets and laces and jewels were hers, her possession of which no one knew. She had no friend save her hope. Around her, her girl acquaintances grew old and left her. Rondah saw that no change of age came upon her. As years rolled on she realized that some unnatural influence was keeping her face the face of a child. By the work of years she should be gray-haired and wrinkled.

“If it is so that the star comes back, Regan will come for me! I know he will come! I know he will come!”

As it came evening time in the last year, Rondah grew impatient with suspense and longing. Those who noticed her at all, said:

“Rondah watches for the Hermit’s star. She does not know that it will not strike in the same place this time!”

But they were gentle people. No one cared to tell Rondah this.

One night, when storm-clouds had been darkening the sky, Rondah, waiting with a tumult of fear and hope which made her heart beat like a hammer, mused sadly by her fire. It was splendid about her, but it was lonely splendor.

“If he does not come,” said Rondah, talking to the fire, “I shall die after this! I shall die the sad death of a child! No one will remember that I have lived a woman’s life, suffered a woman’s heart-break, earned a woman’s honor! No hairs are gray upon my head to crown it; when I lay it down in a coffin the people will very soon forget me! Sometimes I seem a mysterious monster to myself! Why do I not grow old like other people, if it is not for the star?”

She thought and thought until she could remain quiet no longer. Looking out she saw that the storm-clouds were piled in banks, aside, and that the sun was trying to break through them.

“In two days more, only two days, after all these years, and then I shall know! I cannot rest! What if it should not come? Regan! Regan! It is so many years!”

She threw a mantle of gold and crimson around her, wrapped a soft pink scarf about her head, and went out in the cool evening.

She took her usual route to the hill. She felt hurried and anxious. She thought she should see the star.

Now, her eyes took back their startled look, her face grew pale.

She saw a dark form in the path before her. She stopped; her heart beat swiftly. It was not time. She must not be deceived—a shock would lose her reason. It looked like Regan!

She went forward steadily, with dilating eyes. She did not know that in the whole world there was no one else so beautiful as was she, as she hastened to meet the man in the path, standing under the very tree where she had so often seen Regan waiting for her.

Rondah scarcely breathed. She saw the man lean forward and gaze at her with a close scrutiny. The man’s face was plainly seen in the glow of orange light which was after sunset.

That man was Regan!

The vales heard a wild cry—the town heard it—a cry of joy from this heart, loveless for all of a lifetime save for love from another world!

“Regan! Regan! you have come! I knew you would come! I knew you would come!”

Regan had made himself believe that he should find something so different! What could explain matters to him? He knew that it was Rondah, young, splendidly appareled, bewilderingly beautiful, but the same Rondah, the same Rondah! To mysteries he was accustomed.

“Rondah! My own Rondah!” he cried and clasped her in his arms once more. “There is a God, such a thinking, loving world-mover as Father Renaudin preaches! Nothing that blunders could bring such joy as this to the heart of man! There is a God who rules over all! Rondah, we are again united! He has done this!”

The darkness of the storm-cloud swept upon them. Their chariot of rock and their angel guide were there. It was time to go.

“Rondah, you are leaving the Earth forever! Look back, look back! Are there loved ones there to leave?”

“No! My loves have been in a different Sphere!” said Rondah, and she laughed the happy, careless laugh of a child. “Where is the star?” asked she.

Then they saw it, serenely sailing far off in the blue.

“It is our home, Regan!” said Rondah.

“It is a world, a little kingdom!” answered Regan.

“Our home! The long, long years! I thought they would never end! This time I thought it would never come!”

“How came you to be so gloriously beautiful, Rondah?”

“I do not know! It was hope in your coming, I think!”

“It was the blessing of a hermit, who has become an angel!” said the angel-man. “Rondah on Earth was robbed of many blessings. I could bless her life with one chief happiness. I chose beauty. Regan, did I choose rightly?”

“Oh! marvelously right! The angels will stop to look upon her face when comes the next translation!”

“Are there people in the star?”

“Father Renaudin is there! He waits for us!”

“There are no other humankind?”

“Only bird people with wings.”

“I shall be as wise in my dullness as any in the star!” said Rondah, joyfully.

“Yes!” Regan knew the clog of her dullness had been a life-long torture to her. She would be no more humiliated and pained with her dullness there. Where the brilliant Isabella had been so utterly miserable, this woman in content would be a happy, happy wife!

“There is our star! Do you see the multitudes, hear their song of welcome? Do you see them rise in flocks?”

“A grand world! Our world, Regan!”

“What will you name it, Rondah? I have never named it! I waited for you to come!”

Wreathed in flowers, singing like silver bells, the crowds rose toward them. White the walls and domes glistened on the green plain by the seaside below.

“Our world forever! I will call it,” said Rondah, “Parzelia!”

END OF THE FURTHER HISTORY.