Chapter II: Where?

This was death! There really was a river for souls to cross! I felt its cold! I heard its roar! Its chill waves lapped on an invisible shore! This was the darkness of the grave! Earth had not such! Where was the phantom boatman? He should be——

Where was Isabella? Where were they all? The dead could remember all they loved on Earth!

“But then,” I thought, “could the dead soul think in such an earthly fashion? Could dead hands reach out in damp, hot darkness and touch rough, jagged rocks? It seemed that spirits followed human modes!”

Then I touched a cold, still, human face, some one who moved and hoarsely whispered: “Rondah!”

“Regan, awake. We are not dead!”

I shrieked the words into a gloom so incomprehensible that I had believed it was the grave.

Regan answered in a riddle, but I thought he had not collected his senses:

“It is done! Triumph! Fate has been merciful!” He added instantly: “Don’t move! There are chasms and waters! Don’t you hear the sea surging?”

He did not think he was dead! He did not dream of a river! The meaning of his words startled me.

“Where is Isabella?” he asked.

“Pray God she may be dead!” I answered, as I realized what had probably happened.

“She is here, alive but senseless.”

The voice was Father Renaudin’s.

We found her. After a time she revived.

“Regan! Regan!” (Always his name first by everyone!) she called, in a subdued voice.

“Hush! The star is chained!” answered Regan.

Then they were both silent, both as strange to each other as if those words had had no deep meaning. But could I ever forget?—some secret they kept, something so great that a change of spheres did not affect it!

And I loved her! I, Roy Lee!

“Father Renaudin, if the cloud masses of two worlds are propitious, you can see the Holy Land soon, but you will never tread its paths! Roy Lee, look in that great moon, our lost home—Earth!—and you can locate London, where your fortunes are still, let us hope, in the ascendant! Take a farewell look, friends, for you will soon be as far from all that revolving globe contains as Heaven is removed from Earth!”

“When day comes we shall see where we are!” I answered, but I had no hope.

“’Tis very strange! This heavy air is not on mountain top! Where is the snow? This is a vast body of water, which roars so loudly and falls so heavily! I can feel these rocks, some worn smooth, some perforated, by water!” said Father Renaudin.

Can you imagine how we waited for that dawn? We scarce admitted when we knew that the darkness was paling! What were we to see? A foreign world? We consoled ourselves with the thought that in all the ages such a thing was unchronicled, and we mentally decided that it was not for a contemptible villain like Regan Farmington to solve the mystery of a universe!

No; we concluded in our consideration that there would be found some natural explanation.

Father Renaudin thought some tornado might have fallen. Time might have elapsed, which allowed rains to melt the snow. Still, even then——

Came ever dawn so suddenly!

We looked on peaked and lofty lava rocks, upon a clay-colored sea sweeping to a near horizon. Tall steepled, non-verdured isles broke the surface of the sea. The air was heavy, as if we were in a covered pit. Clouds sunk so low that we could almost touch them, dark brown and green-blue clouds, inexpressibly gloomy.

In silence we looked away from each other’s faces; each waited for some one else to say the words:

“It is a star!”

With one bound the sun rose up. Across the shimmering clouds flamed a bewildering gorgeousness surpassing description. The colors of a thousand sunsets were moving in unparalleled radiance above our heads, covering the entire field of heaven. Far, far were we from being pleased to look upon this glory! Oh! dawn of doom! Never was such a daybreak upon our own green world!

The sun rose above the banks of clouds. It sent shafts through the breaks and silvered pinnacles of rock. It marked white circles on the troubled waters. Then the day became gloomy and a storm of rain fell.

Isabella first acknowledged our situation:

“It is certainly a star! Gregg Dempster was right!”

“Poor child, I am sorry that you are here!”

It was Regan who said this, and his words were so softly spoken, so musical and gentle, that I wondered (and raged) when I heard them.

“My life’s years and toils are wasted, my creeds useless, my people lost, my mission vain! What shall I preach to stones and uncooled stars? What little good I shall do where there are only four souls in a world!”

The words were a wail of utter despair, a cry from a broken heart. It was Father Renaudin who uttered them.

“Regan, it was fiendish to doom others to share this fate with you! Why have you selected the most pious and the most beautiful for this misery? This man’s life was a holy ambition. A dull or ordinary man would have borne the change better. Isabella had all earth’s pleasures and triumphs before her; there were others who would have lost but little.

“It takes a particularly selected company to insure a great success!” answered Regan. “I have selected my people with the most special care! I could not afford to pity! If I had allowed so maudlin a sentiment to enter my soul, it would have been for Isabella!”

He laughed triumphantly. It was a most exasperating sound for a dupe to hear—the knell of my hopes, for I had much to lose. My father’s house was an honorable one, our wealth was phenomenal in the age, our ships were on all seas, our name known in the world’s marts. I had all, on Earth. Here I was a useless, helpless dupe—I, Roy Lee!

“It is all too terrible to be true!” said I.

“You who claim such faith in an infinite Jehovah are easily depressed!” sneered Regan. “Possibly your Deity has forgotten you! I prefer to trust to blind, blundering Destiny, that soul of universes! She has neither lost nor forsaken this atom of the creation, this little star islanded in space!”

Father Renaudin rose and went slowly away into the gloomy ravines. He moved as if half a century had been added to his years, leaning heavily upon his staff. His face was drawn and dreadful to look upon.

“Follow him!” said Isabella, hurriedly. “He will destroy himself!”

“Oh! no,” coolly replied Regan. “He is a fanatic. He believes that something almighty has great need of his human services. His narrow-fenced faith will hold him fast. His heart may break, but his soul will stand firm through every trial. These earthly superstitions are very comfortable possessions!”

“I am very, very sorry for him!” whispered Isabella, turning to me; but she listened to Regan as if he had authority. I wondered why! What possible regard could that wealthy, beautiful girl of high caste have for that vagabond Regan?

Then I remembered that caste was gone. We were transferred to the Age of Stone. We could select a cave, build a hearth of rocks, fry a fish and sleep. Wake, fry more fish; after years enough had passed we could die! Horrible!

I rose and walked about to wake myself. It might be all a dream. It must be all a dream!

In the sunlight above the clouds I saw Father Renaudin standing upon the summit of a peak. His white hair was blown on the wind; it looked like silver.

Isabella had not spoken one word of regret. There was no sorrow in her eyes, no apprehension in her manner. She was as composed as if the inevitable had occurred.

Father Renaudin and I blamed Regan, and we had expressed our blame in strong words. She said nothing. I went to her side and said to her:

“How can you be so quiet? Do you realize your fate, your loneliness?”

“It is worth loneliness to be the only woman in a world!” she replied.

The cold, hopeless acceptance of her tone shocked me immeasurably. Another thought! True, a world was in our possession!

The sun had passed the noon mark when Father Renaudin came down the hills. A wonderful peace was on his face; a strange delight was in his eyes.

“Earth has not all she needs. We can learn faster here!” he replied to our wondering comments.

“He thinks he has seen another vision, I believe!” whispered Isabella.

“No; he thinks nothing! Father Renaudin is of the mould of that humanity which does see visions if ever they are seen!” said Regan.

Just then we saw the great world rise up—a fiery globe, where dimly emerald and palely blue were lands and seas. The continents turned before our eyes. The light of this giant moon made it still day for us, though our sun had set.

Oh! grand, great world! I cast myself upon the rocks in agony that it was lost, _lost_! Something was whispering in my ear:

“Duped, duped, duped again, Roy Lee!”

“My son,” and Father Renaudin laid his hand gently upon my shoulder, “do not let sorrow overcome you. It is nothing. Only a human life lost. A sort of death has come. It is a kind death—removal from temptation, from necessity to sin; a respite for glorious work; the chance for a higher place in eternity.”

“A world unfinished; seas simmering over primeval fires. A baby world, devoid of great opportunity. It is as Regan says. God, if God there be, has forgotten us!”

“Not so, not so! Being here, God’s work for us is here. Shall we not do it? Rise up! Shake off your grief, apply your wonderful ability, your great practical knowledge, to the improvement of the sphere!”

His voice was as a song of triumph, a chant of victory!

As I rose to my feet, Regan sprung lightly past me. He took his stand upon a huge square rock; from his cloak he drew a large silken banner wrought with a showy design in red and gold. He shook its folds to the wind.

“I claim this world, with all its contents, by right of discovery! It is my just possession! Its sovereign am I! Its seas are my ways, its lands my domains, its people my subjects!”

Turning to Father Renaudin, Regan held toward him a shining band of silver, set with gems.

“Here, Father Renaudin, put this on my brow! You are the highest religious dignitary of the world in which I am!”

“Not so!” cried I. “No man’s subject am I! The people rule! Father Renaudin, you will not found a monarchy where no such absurd abomination has ever existed!”

“Have not the worlds themselves one sun supreme for ruler? Find in the universe one whirling, stupendous monarchy! Where is the denunciation in Holy Writ against a good king? God himself upholds thrones!”

“This man is a scoundrel, a fiendish monster! See how he toys with lives and souls.”

“Think, with his superhuman strength and intelligence, how brilliant shall he stand; as an archangel at that last day, when, his work done, he shall bring in his nations and their glory!”

Father Renaudin passed me by, and, in another moment, stood beside Regan. He placed the crown upon his brow. His flag fell like a radiant robe about him. His triumphant eyes were magnificent.

Close beside the rock where he stood was Isabella, gazing steadfastly. Her look was almost devotional. My heart beat slower when I beheld her. Everything seemed falling. I realized with all the rest, “Duped, duped, duped!” Regan a king—I standing mute, a subject, listening to the first prayer upon the star for blessings on his head—this man whose friendship I had despised, this vagabond whom I had at times patronized!

Dizzily I looked at him. I saw about him, over his lava throne, around his regal cloak, hovering a yellow, mysterious light, a visible, tremulous, bewildering baptism of his awful destiny, surrounding him as does the zodiac the sun! I knew I could not stop his rise! I knew there was a greater power than that of man which cut his pathway!

My path was dark. Isabella looked away. I could not see her eyes.

“Duped, duped!”

I fell senseless to the ground.