The Gilded Man: A Romance of the Andes

by Clifford Smyth

  XXIII

  THE GILDED MAN

  After leaving Sajipona, Una found herself in an apartment small comparedwith the spacious courts and chambers she had seen elsewhere in thepalace. This apartment differed, also, in its furnishings--a fewuncompromising stone benches along the walls and nothing more--whilethe dim light gave to everything a gloomy, uninviting character. ButUna was in no mood to linger; the queen's words had filled her withan anxiety that must be appeased at once. Hurrying down the middle ofthe long room, she reached, at the further end, a sort of staircase,or ramp, leading upward in long, sweeping spirals to a height that waslost in intervening walls and clustered columns. Mounting this ramp,she noted with pleasure that as the ground floor receded everythinglightened. Judging by the splendid upward curve of the walls, sheconcluded that she must be ascending a gallery winding around the greatcentral dome of the court where, a moment before, she had listened withthe others to Sajipona's account of the mysteries of the cave. On theinner side of the gallery, the side overhanging the court, the wall wassemi-transparent, and through it sparkled flashes of the radium lightflooding the great chamber within. Light came, also, from the oppositeside, filtering downward, apparently through another medium, from thecentral luminary above. The air grew warmer; there were faint perfumes,as if of essences distilled from tropical flowers, that thrilled witha delightful drowsiness. Soft echoes from distant music increased thisfeeling of restfulness. Sound and fragrance were so subtly united, theyseemed so completely an irradiation from the inner spirit brooding overthe place, that one accepted them as being utterly natural, utterly freefrom the startling or the marvelous.

  Una could not guess the source of the liquid, musical notes. They mighthave come from the quaint instruments she had seen so deftly playedupon by the cavemen marching with Anitoo, or from the lyre that, atSajipona's touch, gave forth such plaintive melodies. But the music shelistened to now was not continuous; its lack of formal melody, unity oftheme, gave it a quality different from anything she had ever heard.In the outer world it might have been taken for the windsong sweepingthrough tossed branches of forest trees. But here there was neitherwind nor forest. The air was motionless, and had ever been so; the vastspaces seemed filled with the unruffled sleep of centuries. Down below,in the great court, and even in the palace garden, saturated with lightand beauty though both were, one felt something of the chill mysterythat penetrates all underground places. Here there was mystery, but itwas a kind that soothed rather than terrified. Tier by tier, as Unapassed along the slender white columns enclosing the gallery up whichshe was ascending, the sense of gloom, foreboding, that had weighedupon her until now, was weakened. She felt the magic of a new world ofromance and adventure. She was at the very heart of its secret. Flashesof color in paneled niches along the walls piqued her curiosity. Robesof vivid scarlet, hiding limbs of sparkling whiteness, it might be,hung just beyond her reach. Further on these niches were filled withglittering masses of gold, heaped high in barbaric scorn of art orfitness. Rudely fashioned crowns, massive enough to have burdened theirwearers with more than the traditional care that goes with royalty;armlets, breastplates, tiaras heavy with emeralds--in deep recesses, rowon row, from story to story, these witnesses of the pomp and pride offallen nations, were thrown together in a careless profusion possibleonly in an Aladdin's palace of marvels.

  As Una hurried past she realized with a thrill that she was in theancient treasure-house of a once mighty empire. The fruit of the earth'srichest mines, brought here by the labor and cunning of centuries, layat her hand. It seemed impossible that all this jeweled splendor couldhave escaped the fires of war and crime that had kindled within thebreasts of millions who had sacrificed their lives merely to grasp somesmall portion of it. Fascinating baubles now were these relics of pastgreatness, dainty or rude, meaningless, or eloquent of forgotten faithsand legends. Innocent of harm they seemed, a passing feast for the eye,trophies to celebrate and adorn feminine loveliness, but no longer amadness in the bones of men.

  Thus, vaguely, did this vision of ancient riches appear to Una. Goldand jewels, robes and ornaments wrought by an art that had been lostlong since--the rich color, the glitter of all these things delightedher. They seemed a part--the visible part--of the music and fragrancewith which the winding gallery of marvels was filled. It appeared toher that she was on the threshold of some great awakening experience.She knew that it was David whom she would see; and this knowledgestarted a strange conflict of emotions. The memory of his lack of faith,the incomprehensible manner in which he had turned from her, broughthumiliation, anger. But the first bitterness that went with all thishad lost its corrosive power. The spell of the ancient Indian racewhose secrets she was exploring was upon her. Her senses were soothedby the mysterious beauty of these enchanted corridors. Here she wouldsee David--and the thought was indefinitely satisfying. She did not knowwhether she could forgive him, whether she could become reconciled to adisloyalty that had so easily swerved him from the most sacred of vows.But after all it was witchcraft--only witchcraft could work such thingsas these--that had estranged him from her. This she knew because theinner heart of her own love remained as it had ever been. He was stillDavid. He needed her, he was unhappy. Outwardly he might seem faithlessas the most shameless Proteus of romance. Nevertheless, there wassomething else, something that even Sajipona could not know, but thatshe knew and that bound him to her. It was for this she had followed himthrough inconceivable adventures--for this, one danger after another hadbeen faced and overcome. And now all this misery had reached a happyending. He was here, awaiting her like some prince in a fairy palace.Sajipona had promised it, had brought them together at last. She felthis presence before she heard his voice. And then he spoke to her:

  "Una, what new witchcraft has brought you here!"

  He stood at a turn in the gallery up which she was ascending. As theireyes met, the distant, wind-blown music, the subtle fragrance offlowers, seemed to bring into this palace of mystery and enchantmentthe fields and meadows of Rysdale. There she and David were againtogether, vowing their first love. The harmonies of brooks, birds, theripples that sped their canoe past woodland and down shaded valleys,the thousand intimate details of the springtide loved of lovers, wereabout them once more. For the David who stood beside her in the queen'streasure-house was the David of that far-off, peaceful countryside,not the strange being she had met for that brief dark moment in frontof Sajipona's palace. At the first glance she could see he had passedthrough some vital change since then. He was no longer as a man walkingin dreams. There was no troubled uncertainty in his face, no falteringin his step. He came to her now, all his soul in his eyes, but withperplexed look for all that, as if the destiny that had parted them hadnot yet consented to their reunion.

  "I have been dreaming," he said simply. "It was an old dream, I find.Now that I am awake, some lights and shadows from my dream-world remainto haunt me."

  His brief explanation of the strange mental experience he had just beenthrough was scarcely needed. Una told him how they had searched for him,how they had finally heard of this cave and of his first adventure init. And then, how, tracking him to this place, they had met Sajiponaand learned of the wonders of her underground kingdom.

  "We are awaiting the festival now," she said wistfully. "She told me ofit, and sent me here to meet you. I think it must have begun already.The music--it must be the music for the Gilded Man--has grown louder andlouder as I have climbed this wonderful gallery. Sajipona and the restwill meet us--it must be just there, beyond."

  They had clasped each other's hands, their eyes looked their fill. Butnow they stood apart, their faces averted, words of passionate avowalunuttered on David's lips.

  "The festival! I know!" David exclaimed.

  Then he turned again to Una, taking her hand and trying to disguisethe grief that was all too plain in words and manner. He told her ofSajipona's kindness, of his gratitude to her. He described somethingof her plans to redeem her people from the i
ll fortune that had shutthem out from the rest of the world. All this, he said, could not beaccomplished right away; but the first step would be taken now. Davidhad a part to play in the working out of the queen's plan. But just whathe was to do, what this part was, he guessed only vaguely. The bringingtogether of the ancient people with the new, the Indian race with theirwhite conquerors--something of the kind was in her mind. The vast storeof wealth, also, that they saw about them was to be distributed amongthose who needed it. Sajipona and her people had long since ceasedto care for this treasure that had brought such untold suffering andmisfortune to their race. But they would not part with it until theywere certain of their recompense. And perhaps they wouldn't part withit at all--there seemed to be a curse attached to these blood-stainedemeralds and gold.

  In all this, perhaps symbolically, the festival, the first strainsof which they could hear, would have much to do--and Sajipona andhe were to be the leading figures in that festival. He had consentedto this--freely. The declaration was made with melancholy emphasis.It seemed to Una the death-knell to their happiness. It placed Davidsuddenly in a world quite outside her own, as if all along his life hadbeen, must be, apart from hers. There could be only one reason for this,of course--Sajipona! Una seized upon it bitterly.

  "You have always loved her!" she cried.

  David did not answer. The fates that had brought them to this pass weremuch too intricate to be lightly disentangled. Sajipona was to him abeing exquisitely beautiful--beautiful in every way--the most perfectwoman he had known. But there was a strength and glory in her lovelinessthat placed her above the reach of mere human affection. She was a beingseparate and distinct from all others--and yet necessary to the veryexistence of the thousands who seemed to be dependent on her. It mightbe love that he felt for her--but it was more like the adoration withwhich one regards something sacred, infinitely distant and beyond ourown likings and frailties. This feeling of adoration might, indeed, havebeen transformed into the passion called love. This surely would havehappened had it not been for one thing----

  "Una, I love you!"

  She started, looking wonderingly at him. How could he say that to hernow, after all that had passed? Could it be possible that he wasstill in that strange dream-state from which, he declared, he had beenso happily awakened? Ah, but it was in that dream-state that he didnot love her, did not even know her! And now--her own exclamation waseloquent of the doubt, the amazement with which she heard him--

  "David!"

  "But, it is perfectly true," he protested. "Why don't you believeme? You always have believed me! What is before us I cannot tell forcertain. Sajipona has my word, and whatever she commands I will do.I owe her my life. More than that--the faith that a man gives to onewhose beauty has opened to him the depths of his own soul. But this hasnothing to do with us. This is not love. Come what will, I love you,Una. I love you--I love you!"

  They looked at each other fearfully. There might be logic, of asort--logic born of a kind of poetic exaltation--in the distinctionthat David tried to draw between the two women and his own feeling forthem. Circumstances, however, were stronger than argument. They feltthe approach of disaster. By David's own confession, if Sajipona willedit, their love was lost. For the first time Una realized that it wasnot David, not anything really tangible, but a power outside of himthat kept them apart. Against the apparent evidence of her senses, herfaith in David was restored. She knew him now, she felt, as she hadnever known him before. And they loved--that was enough. It was all verydifficult to unravel, the maze they were in. There might be endlesstragedy at the next turn of the gallery. But at least there was lovehere, if only for the briefest of moments. Their reawakened passiontingled in their veins. Reason or unreason, they knew they belonged toeach other--although they might be separated forever before this day ofmiracles was over. Una's jealousy, doubt, bitterness were all forgotten.Her cheek flushed with joy, her eyes sparkled with the sweet madnessthat belongs only to youth, youth at the highest pinnacle of its desire.Neither spoke. Speech would have silenced the wordless eloquence withwhich their love revealed itself. They drew closer to each other. Againtheir hands met. Their lips touched. Love swept away all doubts anddenials in one passionate embrace.

  Ever since the world began lovers have solved their difficulties thus,and they will doubtless choose this dumb method long after an agingcivilization has pointed out a better one. Whether they are wise or not,a college of philosophers would fail to convince us. In this particularinstance Love put forth his plea at the very instant when these, hisyouthful votaries, were wanted of another, alien destiny. As they stoodtogether, oblivious of all else save their own passion, the music grewlouder, more joyous, throbbing now in statelier, more intelligiblecadence than before. At the end of the gallery a new light began tobreak. The intervening wall disappeared, disclosing an inner chamberfilled with a throng of gaily dressed people, some of whom played uponmusical instruments, while others swung golden censers from whichfloated forth in amber clouds the fragrance of many gardens.

  A living corridor of color, formed of courtiers, musicians, priests,extended from this inner chamber in a spreading half circle, the broadportion of which reached the gallery where David and Una were standing.At the center of all this light and motion and color was Sajipona, everyinch of her a queen, although the pallor of her cheek, the unwontedtenseness of eye and lip, told of emotions that needed all a queen'sstrength to restrain. Immediately about her were grouped the explorers;Miranda, silenced for once by the splendor of the scene in which hesuddenly found himself in a leading part; Leighton, still absorbed inthe problems of science revealed at every turn in this wonderland.Just above and behind them rose a human figure of heroic proportions,concealed from head to foot in flowing white draperies. Against therounded pedestal of green stone sustaining this figure leaned Sajipona,one arm resting along the base of the statue, the other lost in thesilken folds of her robe.

  As David and Una, startled by the sudden clash of the music, raisedtheir heads, her eye caught theirs. Like a queen of marble she lookedat them, unrecognizing, motionless, save for the slightest tremor ofher faultlessly chiseled mouth--the one sign that she saw and knew.With a gesture she checked the music. Silence followed, unbroken bythe faintest murmur of voices or rustle of garments from the waitingthrong of cavemen. Unabashed by this strange reception, moved only bythe steady gaze of the majestic woman standing before him, David, stillclasping Una's hand, came swiftly forward and would have thrown himselfimpetuously at Sajipona's feet. The faintest hint of a smile gleamed inher eyes as she prevented this show of homage. Her greeting came clearand low from quivering lips:

  "This is our festival, David!"

  Again the music sounded, not, as before, in a joyous burst of melody,but in a slow chant, barbaric in feeling, wailing, unearthly. Thelistening throng moved uneasily, filled with vague premonitions ofwhat was to come. Sajipona lifted her hands to the statue, then smiledserenely at the two lovers before her. The spell was broken.

  "This is the ancient festival of my people," she said. "It should be atime for rejoicing. The Gilded Man awaits us."

  As she spoke the veils covering the statue dropped one by one to theground. Before them stood, dazzling, glorious, the figure of a mancarved in gold. His head was uplifted, as if intent on somethingbeyond the ordinary ken of mortal. Only the face was clearly andsharply chiseled; the rest of the figure--limbs, body, and flowingdrapery--blended together in one massive pillar of flaming gold.

  The effect on the beholder of this exquisitely molded shaft ofmetal, upon which the radium light from above sparkled and flashed,was indescribable. The brilliance, the lavishness of it, savored ofbarbarism; but the delicacy of detail, the simple pathos and exaltationportrayed in the face, had in it an art that was Nature's own. And thewonder of it, the miracle that caught all men's eyes as they looked, wasthe likeness that lived in every feature. For this Gilded Man, newlywrought to preside over the last festival of this forgotten race; thisone final sple
ndid piece of work that summed up all that was best andnoblest in an ancient art, was a deathless portrait in gold of the manwho stood before Sajipona, of the man upon whom she had built her hopes,and for whom she would sacrifice everything. It was David--a queen'stribute of immortal love.

  Touched at heart, the living David knelt at Sajipona's feet, pressingher robe to his lips. A moment she stooped caressingly above him,whispering words that none--not even he--could hear. Then proudly shestood before them, regarding those about her with an eye that did notfalter in its imperious glance.

  "It is the last festival," she said. "With this the Land of the Condorwill pass away. The outside world of men has tracked us here before thedream that we had of a golden age could be fulfilled. Not with us canthese be allied. They love not as we love; their faith, the beauty thatthey prize, is not as ours. In another time it might have been--perhapsit still will be. But, if it is to be, that dream will come true agesafter this Feast, this Sacrifice, of the Golden Man is over."

  As she finished speaking, Sajipona looked again at David, unspokengrief in her eyes. He stretched his hands to her, murmuring her name,appealing to her, terror-stricken by the stern look that slowlyoverspread her features, telling of some great and tragic purpose shewas bent on carrying out. But she was unmoved by his entreaties. Slowlyshe turned away. Then, beckoning to the priests, Saenzias and Omono,she disappeared with them behind the golden statue. Those who remained,breathlessly awaited her return--the explorers restless and anxious,the cavemen rapt in a sort of religious ecstasy. It was thus that theirancestors had awaited the plunge of the Indian monarch into the darksilent waters of the Sacred Lake.

  And now high above them the thin wall of the palace roof was opened.Without, the great sun of this underworld poured down its radiance.Almost blinded, they could still dimly see, standing just on a levelwith this sun, Sajipona arrayed as became the last descendant of thezipas. At her side were the two priests; but these retreated as thescorching heat pierced them. For an instant she stood where theyleft her, a vision of majestic beauty that fascinated and held themspellbound. Then, chanting an Indian song of triumph, the paean withwhich the ancient kings heralded their descent to the god beneath thewaters of the Sacred Lake, she cast herself into the globe of fire.

  A wave of light flamed across the upturned face of the golden statue, awail of mingled exultation and despair arose from the throng below.

  The Festival of the Gilded Man was ended.

  Transcriber's note

  Words in italics have been surrounded by _underscores_.

  The following corrections have been made, on page

  6 , changed to . (had for her uncle.) 80 "Sapniards" changed to "Spaniards" (owing to the presence of the Spaniards) 95 "posssibility" changed to "possibility" (a possibility that filled him with dreams) 108 "ligting" changed to "lighting" (a glint of sympathy lighting his eyes) 122 "passsed" changed to "passed" (David had neither reached nor passed the inn) 143 "Roaul" changed to "Raoul" (darting an accusing glance at Raoul) 161 "betweeen" changed to "between" (the difference between his two impressions) 191 "jewerly" changed to "jewelry" (handle these pieces of jewelry without mishap) 296 "graden" changed to "garden" (advanced rapidly across the garden) 313 ' changed to " (do you mean?" she asked).

  Otherwise the original has been preserved, including inconsistenciesin spelling, hyphenation and accentuation.