XXI
DREAMS
David welcomed Sajipona with genuine pleasure, with an eagernesssuggesting that he had been awaiting her coming impatiently. Heedlessof his greeting, however, and regarding him earnestly, she asked if heremembered the visitor who had been with him a short time before.
"Yes! Yes!" he exclaimed. Then he went on, betraying a certain degreeof anxiety in tone and manner, explaining how this visitor's face hadhaunted him as if it belonged to one he had seen in his dreams, oneupon whom he had unwittingly inflicted pain. Of course, that could notbe, he said, since there was no reality in dreams. After all, a fanciedwrong was nothing--and yet, this dim memory of the woman who had beenwith them a moment before was confusing. Where was she now? he asked.Was she offended because he failed to recognize her? He should haveknown better--but dreams are troublesome things! He would like to seeher again--although it might be painful in a way--and then, perhaps, hewould recall more distinctly what now was merely a dim sort of shadow inthe back of his brain.
They talked together in the darkened chamber overlooking the portico.The couch from which he rose to greet Sajipona screened, with its regalhangings, Raoul from him. When the queen pointed out this new visitor tohim, the result was similar to that following his encounter with Una.
"More dream-people," muttered David, passing his hand slowly across hiseyes. "I know this man, but I can't exactly place him. It will come backto me in a minute."
Raoul watched him with the intent, impersonal interest a scientist givesan experiment that is nearing the climax for which everything has beenprepared beforehand.
"I think I can help you," he assured him.
Then, turning to Sajipona; "I must warn you," he said in a low voice."There will be a complete change. Why not leave things as they are?"
The queen held her head up proudly.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Raoul shrugged his shoulders, regarding her, and then David, with agleam of malice in his restless eyes.
"I mean just this: David will remember vividly what is now only a vaguedream, and he may forget everything else. Therefore, I say, if you aresatisfied with him as he is, don't disturb his present mood."
"I am not satisfied."
"Ah! you are not satisfied. You want to try one more experiment. But,just think!" he went on, a hint of mockery in his voice; "all thatlegend of your people, about a stranger who would appear from a far-offland and restore the Chibcha Empire--why spoil so pretty a picture? Andthe chances are, you will spoil it. I warn you----"
A flash of anger checked his words.
"I have pledged myself for your safety," she reminded him; "keep out ofdanger! I don't care for your warnings. Help this man in the way that Ihave asked, and as you say you can. You've tried often enough to injurehim. The consequences to me from what you do now--leave all that for meto choose. Oh, never fear! I will repay your service."
David understood little of what was said, although he strove to pieceout a meaning. He perceived he was the subject of their talk. FromSajipona's angry tone, moreover, he knew that she was offended. Theconsequent resentment that he felt in her behalf was strengthened by aninstinctive feeling of suspicion and dislike toward Raoul. Checking amovement of repulsion, he appealed to Sajipona.
"Let me throw him out of here," he demanded abruptly.
"Oh, on the contrary!" smiled the queen, not unpleased at his attitude."He is here because I have asked him to come--and you will help me ifyou do what he tells you."
"Do what he tells me? No! Why, Sajipona, what new whim have you got inthat beautiful head of yours? Something's wrong. It must be that I'veoffended you."
He took her hand, stroking it caressingly, while his eyes sought hers inunrestrained admiration.
"This is hard," he went on, in a low tone, half laughter, half reproach."You are always so good, gracious as a queen should be. Now you tell meto do what an enemy of yours commands. As your enemy means mine, that isunreasonable. I fear," he added playfully, touching her hands with hislips, "I will have to disobey you, just this once, even if you are agreat queen. When I am king, and we rule our jolly cave together, as yousaid we would, it won't be so bad, I suppose. Men like this, certainly,won't be around to bother us. How did he get here? I thought one law ofthis kingdom--and a very good law it is, too--was to keep people out."
"But you got in."
"I suppose I did," he assented dreamily. "But I'm not sure how ithappened."
"That's just it. This man will tell you. His name is Raoul Arthur."
David looked at him blankly, repeating the name. Raoul moved out of theshadow of the bed hangings, his eyes fixed on David's. His lips partedas if to speak, but the words were checked by an imperative gesture fromthe man before him.
"I'm not sure that I want to listen," said David. "I know this man, I'mcertain that I do--but I can't tell you when it was that I first methim. It's all very vague, like the haze that sometimes covers the livingpictures in the great pool of light in there. This memory comes likesomething evil, something that brings ruin. Surely, you don't want tobring ruin upon us, Sajipona! Why not blot it out altogether?"
She shook her head sadly, looking wistfully into his face. They claspedeach other's hands, oblivious, for the moment, of Raoul's presence.
"If you are king there must be no forgetting, no dread of a memory thathas been lost. You must know! The Land of the Condor is a land of dreamscompared with the rest of the world. You have been out there, David, butyou have forgotten. Now you must remember."
"No, not exactly forgotten," he said uneasily. "It's all in my head, alot of things jumbled together--like the haze in there. I have no wishto straighten it out, either. There is such a thing as knowing too muchsometimes. We are happier this way--don't let's run any risks changingwhat we already have. Soon there will be that feast, you said--and then,if you are queen, perhaps you will want me to be king. How proud I shallbe! You are very beautiful, Sajipona; noble and great, like the daughterof real kings of the earth. You are my dream-queen, you know, the firstlove to touch my soul with a knowledge of beauty. Such a woman men diefor! Sometimes, when you sing to me, or tease old Narva; or when I wouldhold you and you kind of ripple away laughing, like the little brook atthe bottom of the garden--yes, that is the woman men die loving."
"I wonder if you will always think that!"
"You mean, I may forget?"
"No, you will remember."
"'Remember!' You mean, those other things wrapped in the haze--thethings that we wait to see come out in the pool of light. That's justit! No, I don't want them; they spoil the first picture. To worshipbeauty like yours, to live forever in the spell of your eyes, thefragrance of your whole perfect being--that is happiness. I want nothingelse. Why lose our dream-loves; why snatch from us, even before it isours, the first pure flower that touches the lips of youth? Don't rob meof mine, my queen!"
His appeal thrilled with a dreamy earnestness that would have moveda sterner woman than Sajipona. Nor could there be doubt that the joyhe thus kindled in her revived a hope that Una's coming had almostdestroyed. Nevertheless, in spite of this response of her own deeppassion to his, her purpose remained unaltered. The very eagerness withwhich she drank in David's words--feeling the temptation to let thingskeep the happy course they had already taken--strengthened her resolveto lose no time, to risk everything now. That such a change as she hadfeared could be wrought in David after all this, seemed inconceivable.The witchcraft, if witchcraft it was, that drew him to her was somethingreal, real as life, that exorcism could not dissolve. Sure of hertriumph, she sought to put him to the test herself.
"David, before you came to me, was there no other woman that you knew?"
"Oh, yes, I think so, surely!" he laughed. "There might have been anynumber of them. But--why bother about them? Just who they were, or whereI knew them, I have forgotten. I hope you don't think it necessary toremember every woman I have known! Anyway, I can't. Why, I don't evenremember their names
."
"I mean, one woman only. Perhaps there was one you loved, you know,among all those you have forgotten. Some one who was beautiful--is stillbeautiful--and who loves you. It might be the woman you saw here a shorttime ago. She is called Una. Surely, you remember."
He wrung her hands, kissed them, listened eagerly to what she wassaying, at the same time that he longed to seal his ears from hearing.Under his breath he muttered Una's name, its iteration, apparently,increasing his agitation. Distressed by Sajipona's questions, he triedto parry them, without revealing too much of his own mental confusion.He did remember Una, he said, but the memory was vague. She might beone of those dream-women, for all he knew, who get mixed up with one'sideas of reality. He would like to have it straightened out, to knowwho she was and why the thought of her troubled him. But, after all, itwas not particularly important--not important, that is, compared withhis love for Sajipona, his certainty that in their union lay a futurehappiness, not for them only, but for all this wonderful kingdom sheruled over.
"Keep in this mind, if you will," said Sajipona, the hope that shesecretly cherished greatly strengthened by the sincerity and fervor ofhis protestations; "but first be sure you know dreams from waking."
Again she expressed her desire to have Raoul brought into the matter,promising David that, through his knowledge and experience, the puzzlesand contradictions of the past would be set right. Yielding reluctantly,he turned to Raoul.
The latter had withdrawn to the far side of David's couch, whence hehad watched, with alternate amusement and contempt, all that took placebetween these two. He now advanced, with the air of one who has themastery of a difficult situation, and again proffered his services.There was mockery in his voice; before he addressed himself to histask he repeated his warning to Sajipona, reminding her that it mightbe better not to revive too suddenly a past filled, possibly, withdisagreeable surprises. His warning waved impatiently aside, Raoulturned swiftly upon David, his restless, irritating eyes fixed in asteady glare that, bit by bit, broke down the latter's opposition.Forcing his victim to be seated upon the side of the couch, he stoodover him, for a short space, in silence. There was nothing in allthis of the gesture and mummery traditionally accompanying certainspectacular manifestations of hypnotism; neither were the two menat any time in physical contact with each other. An onlooker wouldsay that the younger man was unconsciously brought into a passivecondition by the exertion upon him of a stronger will, intensified byfacial peculiarities that were well calculated to hold the attention.Eyes like Raoul's, although exciting repugnance, at the same timearouse curiosity. Once absorbed in probing their baffling depths, theobject of their regard yields to a sort of baleful fascination hardto shake off. In former years David had been used by Raoul in variouspsychological experiments, and was thus accustomed, on such occasions,to surrender himself to the other's compelling influence. This habit wasnow unconsciously revived. The old grooves of thought and conduct werereopened, as it were, by the resumption of a parallel outward condition.As a result, David fell into a state of complete mental inertia.
To this influence Raoul now added the force of direct suggestion, or,rather, verbal command. The subtle arts of apparent submission, or,at the least, mild expostulation which he usually employed in gaininghis ends with an intractable opponent, were cast aside. His attack wasconcentrated, he spoke scornfully, without compromise in utterance ormeaning, so that his hypnotized subject was forced either to resist orto be carried along by him. Through this direct, positive method, hetook David back, step by step, over events in the immediate past thathad become obscured in his memory.
"On the road from Honda," he told him, "you were traveling with anotherman. You were both going to Bogota. You stopped on the road, and at thisman's suggestion you drank several toasts. The liquor confused you.You began to lose track of things. Suddenly, you and your companionmet a ragged army of volunteers marching, as they said, to avengetheir country on the Americans at Panama. This encounter, bringingyou into direct contact with Colombian hostility to your countrymen,intensified your abnormal condition. In the confusion caused by meetingthe volunteers, you were separated from your companion. His name--don'tforget!--was General Herran. He also had been mixed up in the Panamatroubles. By this time--that is, after you had lost Herran--owingto these various causes, you had fallen into one of those states offorgetfulness that you had experienced before. In this state you forgotwhat had just happened and remembered instead your experience here threeyears ago, when your brain had been stunned by an explosion of dynamite.Living again in this memory, you met two cavemen. They spoke to you.You knew them. Immediately, it seemed to you that you were on your waywith them to meet Sajipona in this cave where you had been three yearsbefore. All that had passed between then and now faded from your mind.But, of course you know that is preposterous! Nothing fades from themind. The memory of that period that you think you have forgotten isreally in your brain, waiting for you to call it to life. And now, youwill call it to life."
The emphasis, the force in what Raoul was saying was due more to hismanner, the intensity with which he regarded David, than in the actualwords themselves. It was, in a measure, a contest of wills; but,either through long habit of yielding to Raoul in these experiments, orelse through a desire to carry out what was evidently Sajipona's wish,there was no doubt from the first of the result. And when this resultcame, it was decisive. After the first sentence David's instinctiveopposition was weakened. The desire to allay the anxiety obscurelyfelt in his own mind helped to bring him under Raoul's influence. Theunexpected sight of Una had disturbed him. Ever since their meetinghe had been aware that something in him was lacking, some clew lostbetween his past and his present. Sajipona, deeply conscious thoughhe was of her majestic beauty, began to take on the vagueness ofoutline belonging to those persons whose relationship to ourselves isso doubtfully circumstanced that we momentarily expect to lose sightof them altogether. She was literally becoming the dream-woman, theintangible, lovely ideal of youth that he had playfully called her,while Una was becoming correspondingly more real, less elusive. Forthis very reason, this fear that fate was about to take from him oneso desirable as Sajipona, he had felt an excess of joy upon seeing hernow. His greeting had been more than usually demonstrative because hercoming had reassured him, silenced doubts that were disquieting. Then,on the heels of this, he was aware of Raoul, with all that he meant ofuncertainty and restlessness. And yet, in spite of his distaste foranything that threatened the peaceful course his life seemed to betaking, a secret feeling of relief tempered the repulsion aroused by thesudden appearance of his long forgotten friend. Raoul's words and mannercompletely possessed him. The scene that he recalled of his meetingwith the cavemen on the Honda road was etched on his mind as vividlyas if it had just been experienced. And now, with this starting pointfixed, Raoul took him backward, step by step.
Again he saw himself with General Herran, stopping on the Honda road toexchange those fatal civilities, and immediately after, the noise andconfusion of the marching volunteers, with their threats of vengeanceagainst the Yankees. Back of this came the quiet march with Herran. Herecalled their talk, something of their friendly disputes. The effort todo this bewildered him. It seemed as if he were stepping from one worldinto another. Everything was merged into one gigantic figure of Raoul, aRaoul towering above him, concentrating himself upon him, dominating himuntil all else faded away and he was lost in a dreamless sleep, filledonly with that word of command--"remember!"
How long he remained in this state of unconsciousness--for it was thatrather than sleep--he did not know. It might have been years, it mighthave been a mere moment of time. When the spell was finally broken byRaoul the scene that met his awakened senses puzzled him. He was inSajipona's palace, in the room where Raoul had confronted and subduedhim. But it was all unfamiliar. His mind was filled with his missionto Bogota. His parting with Una in the sunny courtyard of the inn cameback to him, irradiating a dreamy happiness. He had been through
somestrange experiences since then, he knew. The sight of the bed hangingsunder which he was reclining, the great spaces of the room, the softenedlight of the cave, kept alive the memory of many a novel, fantasticadventure. Shaking off his drowsiness, he sprang to his feet. Sajiponaand Raoul advanced to meet him. Sajipona! Yes, he remembered her. Shewas the beautiful Indian queen he was to marry in his dream--it musthave been a dream, because Una was not there; except that, at the verylast, he remembered, Una had stepped in for just a moment--and he hadnot known her! How amazed, angry, she must have been! And then--whatelse could have been expected?--she had gone away. He was anxious nowfor her safety, although how she could possibly be in this cave, how shecould have found her way here, was a hopeless puzzle. The first word heuttered was a cry to Sajipona:
"Where is Una?"
Raoul would have answered, but Sajipona checked him. She realized thefull significance of David's question, although outwardly she showednothing of her emotion.
"You are yourself again--I am glad," she said.
"But Una----?"
"She is safe. She reached Bogota after you left Honda."
David's relief was evident, although his eyes showed the perplexityarising from his strange awakening.
"I thought she had found her way here," he said. Then he turned again toSajipona, this time with an impulsive gesture of gratitude. "I remembereverything now. You saved my life. Every moment with you has been filledwith happiness. How can I ever be grateful enough for the kindness youhave shown me?"
He knelt before her, kissing her hand. She smiled; her other hand restedupon his shoulder.
"Grateful!" she exclaimed playfully. "Have we not a lifetime togetherbefore us? You have forgotten the festival that awaits us on the top ofthe mountain."
"No, I have not forgotten."
"Do you want it to take place?"
He arose to his feet, clasping his hands over his eyes as if to fix anuncertain impression. When he bared his face before her again, therewas quiet determination in his glance. Again he took her hand in his,pressing it to his lips. Then, with eyes fixed full upon hers, heanswered her question:
"Yes."
The Gilded Man: A Romance of the Andes Page 22
