CHAPTER VII
Perhaps there is no lovelier effect in all nature than a Siciliansunset, when the sky is one rich blaze of colour and the sea belowreflects every vivid hue as in a mirror,--when the very air breathesvoluptuous indolence, and all the restless work of man seems animpertinence rather than a necessity. Morgana, for once in her quickrestless life, felt the sudden charm of sweet peace and holytranquility, as she sat, or rather reclined at ease in a long loungechair after dinner in her rose-marble loggia facing the sea andwatching the intense radiance of the heavens burning into the stillwaters beneath. She had passed the afternoon going over her whole houseand gardens, and to the Marchese Giulio Rivardi had expressed herselfcompletely satisfied,--while he, to whom unlimited means had beenentrusted to carry out her wishes, wondered silently as to the realextent of her fortune, and why she should have spent so much inrestoring a "palazzo" for herself alone. An occasional thought of "theonly man" she had said she was "disposed" to like, teased his brain;but he was not petty-minded or jealous. He was keenly and sincerelyinterested in her intellectual capacity, and he knew, or thought heknew, the nature of woman. He watched her now as she reclined, a smallslim figure in white, with the red glow of the sun playing on the golduptwisted coil of her hair,--a few people of the neighbourhood hadjoined her at dinner, and these were seated about, sipping coffee andchatting in the usual frivolous way of after-dinner guests--one or twoof them were English who had made their home in Sicily,--the otherswere travelling Americans.
"I guess you're pretty satisfied with your location, Miss Royal"--saidone of these, a pleasant-faced grey-haired man, who for four or fiveyears past had wintered in Sicily with his wife, a frail littlecreature always on the verge of the next world--"It would be difficultto match this place anywhere! You only want one thing to complete it!"
Morgana turned her lovely eyes indolently towards him over the top ofthe soft feather fan she was waving lightly to and fro.
"One thing? What is that?" she queried.
"A husband!"
She smiled.
"The usual appendage!" she said--"To my mind, quite unnecessary, andlikely to spoil the most perfect environment! Though the MarcheseRivardi DID ask me to-day what was the use of my pretty 'palazzo' andgardens without love! A sort of ethical conundrum!"
She glanced at Rivardi as she spoke--he was rolling a cigarette in hisslim brown fingers and his face was impassively intent on hisoccupation.
"Well, that's so!"--and her American friend looked at her kindly--"Evena fairy palace and a fairy garden might prove lonesome for one!"
"And boresome for two!" laughed Morgana--"My dear Colonel Boyd! It isnot every one who is fitted for matrimony--and there exist so many thatARE,--eminently fitted--we can surely allow a few exceptions! I am oneof those exceptions. A husband would be excessively tiresome to me, andvery much in my way!"
Colonel Boyd laughed heartily.
"You won't always think so!" he said--"Such a charming little womanmust have a heart somewhere!"
"Oh, yes, dear!" chimed in his fragile invalid wife, "I am sure youhave a heart!"
Morgana raised herself on her cushions to a sitting posture and lookedround her with a curious little air or defiance.
"A heart I MUST have!" she said--"otherwise I could not live. It is anecessary muscle. But what YOU call 'heart'--and what the dear elusivepoets write about, is simply brain,--that is to say, an impulsivemovement of the brain, suggesting the desirability of a particularperson's companionship--and we elect to call that 'love'! On that mereimpulse people marry."
"It's a good impulse"--said Colonel Boyd, still smiling broadly--"Itfounds families and continues the race!"
"Ah, yes! But I often wonder why the race should be continued at all!"said Morgana--"The time is ripe for a new creation!"
A slow footfall sounded on the garden path, and the tall figure of aman clad in the everyday ecclesiastical garb of the Roman Churchascended the steps of the loggia.
"Don Aloysius!" quickly exclaimed the Marchese, and every one rose togreet the newcomer, Morgana receiving him with a profound reverence. Helaid his hand on her head with a kindly touch of benediction.
"So the dreamer has come to her dream!" he said, in soft accents--"Andit has not broken like an air-bubble!--it still floats and shines!" Ashe spoke he courteously saluted all present by a bend of his head,--andstood for a moment gazing at the view of the sea and the dying sunset.He was a very striking figure of a man--tall, and commanding in air andattitude, with a fine face which might be called almost beautiful. Thefeatures were such as one sees in classic marbles--the full clear eyeswere set somewhat widely apart under shelving brows that denoted abrain with intelligence to use it, and the smile that lightened hisexpression as he looked from, the sea to his fair hostess was of abenignant sweetness.
"Yes"--he continued--"you have realised your vision of loveliness, haveyou not? Our friend Giulio Rivardi has carried out all your plans?"
"Everything is perfect!" said Morgana--"Or will be when it is finished.The workmen still have things to do."
"All workmen always have things to do!" said Don Aloysius,tranquilly--"And nothing is ever finished! And you, dear child!--youare happy?"
She flushed and paled under his deep, steady gaze.
"I--I think so!" she murmured--"I ought to be!"
The priest smiled and after a pause took the chair which the MarcheseRivardi offered him. The other guests in the loggia looked at him withinterest, fascinated by his grave charm of manner. Morgana resumed herseat.
"I ought to be happy"--she said--"And of course I am--or I shall be!"
"'Man never is but always to be blest'!" quoted Colonel Boyd--"Andwoman the same! I have been telling this lady, reverend father, thatmaybe she will find her 'palazzo' a bit lonesome without some one toshare its pleasures."
Don Aloysius looked round with a questioning glance.
"What does she herself think about it?" he asked, mildly.
"I have not thought at all"--said Morgana, quickly, "I can always fillit with friends. No end of people are glad to winter in Sicily."
"But will such 'friends' care for YOU or YOUR happiness?" suggested theMarchese, pointedly.
Morgana laughed.
"Oh, no, I do not expect that! Nowadays no one really cares for anybodyelse's happiness but their own. Besides, I shall be much too busy towant company. I'm bent on all sorts of discoveries, you know!--I wantto dive 'deeper than ever plummet sounded'!"
"You will only find deeper depths!" said Don Aloysius, slowly--"And inthe very deepest depth of all is God!"
There was a sudden hush as he spoke. He went on in gentle accents.
"How wonderful it is that He should be THERE,--and yet HERE! No oneneed 'dive deep' to find Him. He is close to us as our very breathing!Ah!" and he sighed--"I am sorry for all the busy 'discoverers'--theywill never arrive at the end,--and meanwhile they miss the clue--thelittle secret by the way!"
Another pause ensued. Then Morgana spoke, in a very quiet andsubmissive tone.
"Dear Don Aloysius, you are a 'religious' as they say--and naturallyyou mistrust all seekers of science--science which is upsetting to yourdoctrine."
Aloysius raised a deprecating hand.
"My child, there is no science that can upset the Source of allscience! The greatest mathematician that lives did not institutemathematics--he only copies the existing Divine law."
"That is perfectly true"--said the Marchese Rivardi--"But la SignoraRoyal means that the dogma of the Church is in opposition to scientificdiscovery--"
"I have not found it so"--said Don Aloysius, tranquilly--"We havebelieved in what you call your 'wireless telephony'--forcenturies;--when the Sanctus bell rings at Mass, we think and hope amessage from Our Lord comes to every worshipper whose soul is 'in tune'with the heavenly current; that is one of your 'scientificdiscoveries'--and there are hundreds of others which the Church hasincorporated through a mystic fore-knowledge and prophetic instinct.No--I find nothin
g upsetting in science,--the only students who aretruly upset both physically and morally, are they who seek to discoverGod while denying His existence."
There followed a silence. The group in the loggia seemed for the momentmesmerised by the priest's suave calm voice, steady eyes and nobleexpression, A bell rang slowly and sweetly--a call to prayer in somenot far distant monastery, and the first glimmer of the stars began tosparkle faintly in the darkening heavens. A little sigh from Morganastirred the stillness.
"If one could always live in this sort of mood!" she suddenlyexclaimed--"This lovely peace in the glow of the sunset and the perfumeof the flowers!--and you, Don Aloysius, talking beautiful things!--whythen, one would be perpetually happy and good! But such living wouldnot be life!--one must go with the time--"
Don Aloysius smiled indulgently.
"Must one? Is it so vitally necessary? If I might take the liberty togo on speaking I would tell you a story--a mere tradition--but it mightweary you--"
A general chorus of protest from all present assured him of theireagerness to hear.
"As if YOU could weary anybody!" Morgana said. "You never do--only youhave an effect upon ME which is not very flattering to myself-love!--you make me feel so small!"
You ARE small, physically"--said Don Aloysius--Do you mind that? Smallthings are always sweetest!"
She flushed, and turned her head away as she caught the MarcheseRivardi's eyes fixed upon her.
"You should not make pretty compliments to a woman, reverend father!"she said, lightly--"It is not your vocation!"
His grave face brightened and he laughed with real heartiness.
"Dear lady, what do you know of my vocation?" he asked--"Will you teachit to me? No!--I am sure you will not try! Listen now!--as you all giveme permission--let me tell you of certain people who once 'went withthe time'--and decided to stop en route, and are still at thestopping-place. Perhaps some of you who travel far and often, haveheard of the Brazen City?"
Each one looked at the other enquiringly, but with no responsive result.
"Those who visit the East know of it"--went on Aloysius--"And some saythey have seen a glimpse of its shining towers and cupolas in the fardistance. However this may be, tradition declares that it exists, andthat it was founded by St. John, the 'beloved disciple.' You willrecall that when Our Lord was asked when and how John should die Heanswered--'If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?'So--as we read--the rumour went forth that John was the one disciplefor whom there should be no death. And now--to go on with thelegend--it is believed by many, that deep in the as yet unexploreddepths of the deserts of Egypt--miles and miles over rolling sand-waveswhich once formed the bed of a vast ocean, there stands a great citywhose roofs and towers are seemingly of brass,--a city barricaded andbuilt in by walls of brass and guarded by gates of brass. Here dwells arace apart--a race of beautiful human creatures who have discovered thesecret of perpetual youth and immortality on this earth. They have seenthe centuries come and go,--the flight of time touches them not,--theyonly await the day when the whole world will be free to them--that'world to come' which is not made for the 'many,' but the 'few.' Allthe discoveries of our modern science are known to them--our inventionsare their common everyday appliances--and on the wings of air and raysof light they hear and know all that goes on in every country. Our warsand politics are no more to them than the wars and politics of ants inant-hills,--they have passed beyond all trivialities such as these.They have discovered the secret of life's true enjoyment--and--theyenjoy!"
"That's a fine story if true!" said Colonel Boyd--
"But all the same, it must be dull work living shut up in a city withnothing to do,--doomed to be young and to last for ever!"
Morgana had listened intently,--her eyes were brilliant.
"Yes--I think it would be dull after a couple of hundred years orso"--she said--"One would have tested all life's possibilities andpleasures by then."
"I am not so sure of that!" put in the Marchese Rivardi--"With youthnothing could become tiresome--youth knows no ennui."
Some of the other listeners to the conversation laughed.
"I cannot quite agree to that"--said a lady who had not yetspoken--"Nowadays the very children are 'bored' and ever looking forsomething new--it is just as if the world were 'played out'--andanother form of planet expected."
"That is where we retain the vitality of our faith--" said DonAloysius--"We expect--we hope! We believe in an immortal progresstowards an ever Higher Good."
"But I think even a soul may grow tired!" said Morgana, suddenly--"sotired that even the Highest Good may seem hardly worth possessing!"
There was a moment's silence.
"Povera figlia!" murmured Aloysius, hardly above his breath,--but shecaught the whisper, and smiled.
"I am too analytical and pessimistic," she said--"Let us all go for aramble among the flowers and down to the sea! Nature is the besttalker, for the very reason that she has no speech!"
The party broke up in twos and threes and left the loggia for thegarden. Rivardi remained a moment behind, obeying a slight sign fromAloysius.
"She is not happy!" said the priest--"With all her wealth, and all hergifts of intelligence she is not happy, nor is she satisfied. Do younot find it so?"
"No woman is happy or satisfied till love has kissed her on the mouthand eyes!" answered Rivardi, with a touch of passion in hisvoice,--"But who will convince her of that? She is satisfied with herbeautiful surroundings,--all the work I have designed for her haspleased her,--she has found no fault--"
"And she has paid you loyally!" interpolated Aloysius--"Do not forgetthat! She has made your fortune. And no doubt she expects you to stopat that and go no further in an attempt to possess herself as well asher millions!"
The Marchese flushed hotly under the quiet gaze of the priest's steadydark eyes.
"It is a great temptation," went on Aloysius, gently--"But you mustresist it, my son! I know what it would mean to you--the restoration ofyour grand old home--that home which received a Roman Emperor in thelong ago days of history and which presents now to your eyes sodesolate a picture with its crumbling walls and decaying gardensbeautiful in their wild desolation!--yes, I know all this!--I know howyou would like to rehabilitate the ancient family and make thevenerable genealogical tree sprout forth into fresh leaves and branchesby marriage with this strange little creature whose vast wealth setsher apart in such loneliness,--but I doubt the wisdom or the honour ofsuch a course--I also doubt whether she would make a fitting wife foryou or for any man!"
The Marchese raised his eyebrows expressively with the slightest shrugof his shoulders.
"You may doubt that of every modern woman!" he said--"Few are really'fitting' for marriage nowadays. They want somethingdifferent--something new!--God alone knows what they want!"
Don Aloysius sighed.
"Aye! God alone knows! And God alone will decide what to give them!"
"It must be something more 'sensational' than husband and children!"said Rivardi a trifle bitterly--"Only a primitive woman will care forthese!"
The priest laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Come, come! Do not be cynical, my son! I think with you that ifanything can find an entrance to a woman's soul it is love--but thewoman must be capable of loving. That is the difficulty with the littlemillionairess Royal. She is not capable!"
He uttered the last words slowly and with emphasis.
Rivardi gave him a quick searching glance.
"You seem to know that as a certainty"--he said, "How and why do youknow it?"
Aloysius raised his eyes and looked straight ahead of him with acurious, far-off, yet searching intensity.
"I cannot tell you how or why"--he answered--"You would not believe meif I told you that sometimes in this wonderful world of ours, beingsare born who are neither man nor woman, and who partake of a naturethat is not so much human as elemental and ethereal--or might one notalmost say, atmospheric? That is,
though generated of flesh and blood,they are not altogether flesh and blood, but possess other untested andunproved essences mingled in their composition, of which as yet we canform no idea. We grope in utter ignorance of the greatest ofmysteries--Life!--and with all our modern advancement, we are utterlyunable to measure or to account for life's many and variousmanifestations. In the very early days of imaginative prophecy, the'elemental' nature of certain beings was accepted by men accounted wisein their own time,--in the long ago discredited assertions of the Countde Gabalis and others of his mystic cult,--and I am not entirely surethat there does not exist some ground for their beliefs. Life ismany-sided;--humanity can only be one facet of the diamond."
Giulio Rivardi had listened with surprised attention.
"You seem to imply then"--he said--"that this rich woman, MorganaRoyal, is hardly a woman at all?--a kind of sexless creature incapableof love?"
"Incapable of the usual kind of so-called 'love'--yes!" answeredAloysius--"But of love in other forms I can say nothing, for I knownothing!--she may be capable of a passion deep and mysterious as lifeitself. But come!--we might talk all night and arrive no closer to thesolving of this little feminine problem! You are fortunate in yourvocation of artist and designer, to have been chosen by her to carryout her conceptions of structural and picturesque beauty--let theromance stay there!--and do not try to become the husband of a Sphinx!"
He smiled, resting his hand on the Marchese's shoulder with easyfamiliarity.
"See where she stands!" he continued,--and they both looked towards thebeautiful flower-bordered terrace at the verge of the gardensoverhanging the sea where for the moment Morgana stood alone, a smallwhite figure bathed in the deep rose afterglow of the sunken sun--"Likea pearl dropped in a cup of red wine!--ready to dissolve and disappear!"
His voice had a strange thrill in it, and Giulio looked at himcuriously.
"You admire her very much, my father!" he said, with a touch ofdelicate irony in his tone.
"I do, my son!" responded Aloysius, composedly, "But only as a poorpriest may--at a distance!"
The Marchese glanced at him again quickly,--almost suspiciously--andseemed about to say something further, but checked himself,--and thetwo walked on to join their hostess, side by side together.
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