An Official Summons
Three or four days after the pageant, I was surprised to receive a
visitor in the shape of a serious-looking gray old man whom I did
not remember ever having seen before. In his hand he bore a little
blue-sealed parchment scroll, on which my name had been inscribed in
the native language; and by his grave manner, and particularly by
the significant way in which he held the document, I feared that his
mission might prove of ominous importance.
My first impression was that I had unwittingly violated some local
law, and was being summoned to court to answer for the crime. But this
fear was swiftly dissipated. “I congratulate you, young man,” said my
visitor, having determined that I was the person he sought. “This is an
occasion such as comes but once in a lifetime.” And with a sedate and
deferential air, and apparently not surmising that the nature of his
mission was still a mystery to me, he passed the little document to me;
following which he congratulated me again, and solemnly bowed his way
out of the room.
I now suspected that I was either the recipient of some high honor or
the appointee to some responsible office. It is no wonder, accordingly,
that my fingers trembled when I ripped open the blue seal, and that
in my eagerness I almost tore the parchment as well. But again my
expectations were to prove ill-founded. The message turned out to be
very brief; and, far from providing cause either for exultation or
dismay, it served merely to puzzle me.
“To the respected Anson Harkness,” ran the words, which were handsomely
formed in the native script, “the Committee on Selective Assignments
wishes to announce that it is ready for the hearings and examinations
in his case. If he will therefore be so kind as to present himself at
the Committee offices any noon during the next ten days, he may be
assured that the investigations will be carried out with a minimum of
delay and a decision promptly rendered.”
And that was all, except for the signature of the Head of the
Committee! Not a word as to what the Selective Assignments might be!
Not a word as to the nature of the “hearings and examinations!” Time
after time I re-read this queer message, scrutinizing it until I had
memorized it in its entirety; but the more I read the more perplexed I
became, and I could almost believe myself the target of some practical
joker. Just what was to be investigated? And what decision was to be
reached? Was it that my conduct was thought improper and was to be
reviewed? That I was considered too scornful of local customs, or too
friendly to Aelios? Or--judging from the congratulatory manner of
the gray-haired one--was I somehow deemed worthy of reward, possibly
through the connivance of Aelios? Or was I to be examined as prize
scholars are sometimes examined before being granted a scholarship?
To confess the truth, none of these possibilities appeared very
credible to me. But I could think of nothing more plausible, and at
length was forced to recognize that the mystery was too deep for my
penetration. The only reasonable course would be to consult one of
the natives, who could doubtless answer all my questions without any
trouble. And since I was acquainted with only one of the natives
besides my tutor, and since it would give me particular pleasure to
consult that one, I decided that, if possible, I should refer the
baffling document to Aelios.
But how to isolate Aelios long enough for a conversation was in itself
a problem. After some thought, however, I conceived an idea which
seemed promising: if I could determine where Aelios lived and then pay
her a visit, I might solve the mystery of the Selective Assignments at
the same time as I made possible a closer intimacy with Aelios herself.
Yet it was only by a severe effort that I found the courage to carry
out my plans----to follow Aelios one afternoon after the conclusion of
her day’s instruction. Through innumerable curving lanes and avenues
I trailed her and her fellow tutors, pressing close to the columns
and the walls of the building, like a detective tracking his prey. At
length, when we seemed to be approaching the outskirts of the city,
Aelios waved a pleasant farewell to her companions, and started off
alone down a little path bordered by a deep-red geranium-like flower.
Thinking this to be my opportunity, I hastened my footsteps; but
before I could overtake her she had reached the end of the path, and,
quite oblivious of my approach, had entered the arching doorway of a
house--or, should I call it a palace?--with curving convex walls of the
color of pearl.
For several minutes I stood wavering without. And it was in half-timid
hesitancy, that at lest I forced my feet to the threshold and urged my
hands to rap at the violet stained-glass panels of the door.
It was but a minute before the sound of approaching footsteps notified
me that I had not knocked in vain. But in that minute I was swept by
wild hopes and still wilder torments and regrets. Would it be Aelios
herself that answered me? Or would it be some member of her family,
possibly her mother or father, or else a sister almost as charming as
herself? And, if so, what should I say? and on what business pretend to
seek a conference with Aelios?
While I was wrapped in such thoughts, the door swung open, and I found
myself face to face--not with Aelios, nor with her mother or father,
nor with a sister of hers! But a young man of perhaps twenty-five,
broad-browed and sparkling-eyed like most of the Atlanteans, stood
looking inquiringly out at me.
“Is this--is this where Aelios lives?” I gasped, in embarrassment.
“Yes, Aelios lives here,” he returned, in matter-of-fact tones. And
then, with a winning smile, “You would like to see her?”
I admitted that he had surmised correctly, and was relieved to be
admitted into the house without further questioning. Having passed
through a broad hallway or vestibule illumined by large, swinging
orange-colored lamps, we entered a daintily tapestried sitting room
featured by lanterns of pale blue. The young man bade me be seated on
the seaweed-decorated sofa, and then left me momentarily to myself; and
in that brief snatch of solitude I found myself assailed by storms of
jealous questions. Who was the young man? And in what relationship did
he stand to Aelios? Was he perchance some suitor of hers? Or was he
merely her brother? Or was it possible--oh, unspeakable thought!--that
she was already married, and that this was her husband?
At the latter reflection I experienced in advance all the pangs of
unsuccessful love. My head swam with senseless fury; I was weighed
down with anticipatory despair, and saw myself the victim of hopes
that could never be fulfilled. I had just reached the darkest point
of my broodings, and was just telling myself that of course I could
never attract so admirable a woman as Aelios, when I heard a well known
melodious voice murmuring, “What is the matter today, my friend? What
are you so depressed about?”
* * * * *
Recalled from my dejection as from a bad dream, I sprang up to take the
hand of Aelios, who was smiling as graciously as though my visit had
been expected and even welcomed.
But what I next said I cannot recall. No doubt it was some bit of
nonsense not worth repeating; indeed, it would perhaps have been some
bit of sentimental nonsense, had I not recalled the existence of the
unknown young man. But since I was too diffident to inquire who he
might be, and since the thought of him remained with me in spite of
Aelios’ kindness, I refrained from all sentimental advances in this,
our first private meeting. It is true, that whenever her blue eyes
flashed, they drew me toward her like twin magnets; it is true, that
whenever she smiled, her inexpressibly sweet smile, I yearned to dash
down all barriers in one long fervent confession; yet I was thankful
even to be able to sit side by side with her quietly talking. In the
wide years that separate me now from that brief enchanted interview, my
memory has lost track of what she said, it merely retains how she said
it; I can recall the sparkling eagerness with which her words poured
forth, like the wavelets of a rapid crystal stream; I can recapture
the sage nodding and tossing of her head, the ripples of deep feeling
that passed and repassed on her mobile countenance, the luminescence as
from some inner sun that would make her whole face shine as she uttered
some rare bit of wit or fancy. But I do not even know the subject of
our discussion, except that it was a theme suggested by her and that it
was impersonal; I only know that it was she who did most of the talking
while I looked on in awed worship, and that either she was blind to my
reverence for her or else chose to ignore it.
It was not until I rose to leave that my thoughts reverted to the
subject which had brought me to see Aelios. And then, since the hour
was late and my mood was no longer prosaic, I did not choose to
discuss that topic long. I merely showed Aelios the letter, which she
glanced at briefly and with a broad smile; then she surprised me by
congratulating me just as the gray-haired bearer of the message had
done.
But she was exceedingly chary of information. “If you will go to the
Committee offices,” she suggested, “the whole matter will be made much
clearer to you than I could make it.” And, after directing me where to
find the offices, she added, “I’d advise you to waste no time, or else
you may lose your turn and have to wait another half year. You know,
that’s what happened once to my cousin Argol, who met you at the door
just before.”
Genuinely gratified that my doubts about Cousin Argol had been
dispersed, I thanked Aelios and turned to leave. My heart pattered
happily when I found her accompanying me to the outer door; and I felt
an actual thrill of joy when she pressed her little hand firmly in my
great one, and murmured, in tones that could leave no doubt of her
sincerity, “Come again, my friend. Come whenever you wish some one to
talk with. I shall always be glad to see you.”
And it was with a glow of triumph that I found myself walking down
the flower-bordered walk toward the main avenue. Aelios was more
friendly than I had had any reason to expect!--her company was even
more charming than I had imagined! Considering all things, I had every
cause to be thankful, and who knew but that some day-- But here my
thoughts reached a dazzling veil beyond which I would not allow them to
penetrate, for there were still heights that I could not mount even in
my most daring fancies.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Some of the trees had branches symmetrically woven into
the likenesses of great cobwebs, and from those cobwebs at regular
intervals dangled clusters of grape-like fruits; other trees were
cactus-like and leafless; and some of the shrubs and creepers bore
pods resembling those of beans and peas, except that they were over a
foot in length. The vast majority of this strange assemblage of plants
seemed to be fruit-bearing ...]
* * * * *