UPON THE GROUND
Alas! to come down from those pleasant heights, if ever I did attain to
them, to the turbulent dissatisfaction with oneself, and contempt of
every creature in the world, save one, which lonely love engenders!
Never had I seemed to myself so low, so awfully prosaic and
unpicturesque, as when I was trying to make myself look decent that very
evening. Since then I have learned that even pretty girls, who are roses
to thistles in comparison with us, are never quite certain at their
looking-glass that another touch might not improve them. And what did I
behold? A square-built fellow, with a stubby yellow moustache, and a
nose fit for the ring,--or to have a ring through it,--a great bulky
forehead, like Ticknor's bull-dog, and cheeks like a roasted
coffee-berry. The only thing decent was the eyes, firm and strong, of a
steadfast blue, and the broad full chin that kept the lips from drooping
in a tremble even now. Proud as I was of my Saxon breed, and English
build and character, in the abasement of the moment I almost longed for
a trace of the comely Norman traits. "As if any girl could love you!" I
exclaimed, in parody of that handsome Tom's self-commune.
In for a penny, in for a pound. Without a trial, there's no denial.
Handsome is that handsome does. Beauty is only skin-deep. And so on--I
laboured to fetch myself up to the mark, but it was a very low one. The
neap of the tide, or the low spring water,--which goes ever so much
further out,--was ebbing away on the shores of self-esteem as I entered
the glen of St. Winifred. Tom Erricker would have descended, as if the
valley and its contents belonged to him. Heaviness of heart may
sometimes visit even a healthy and robust young man, living the life
intended for us, working in the open air all day, and sleeping on a hard
palliasse at night. Heaviness and diffidence, and clownish hesitation,
and fear of losing precious landmarks in a desert-dazzle. Surely it were
better to turn back before they can have seen me, set the sheepish face
to the quiet hill, and thank my stars that not one of them yet has
turned into a comet.
Sadly was I perpending this, slower and slower at every step, while the
shadows of the trees grew longer, and the voice of birds was lower, and
the babble of the brook began to sink into the lisping of a cradled
child, as the draught of the valley hushed it; and falling into harmony
with all these signs, my breath was beginning to abate me, when along a
trough of sliding mist like a trysting track for the dusk, appeared the
form of my friend _Kuban_. Courage at once arose within me, and spirit
of true patronage. To men and women I may be nought, but to him I am a
hero. Lo, how he licks my hand, and whines, as if he had never seen my
like, and would never believe it, if he did! He longs to roll upon his
back, and offer himself a prostrate sacrifice. But he knows that I
should be vexed at that, because it would not be safe for him. The
labour of his great heart is to show me all his damages, and make me
understand that, but for me, he could not display them. What with love,
and what with fear, and the utter unsettlement of my mind, down I went
on the grass beside him, and took him paw by paw, to feel how much of
him was still existing.
Now if I had thought of it in the coldest blood--if there still were
cold blood in me--there was nothing in the world I could have done so
wise as this abasement. What says Ovid in the "Art of Love"? Many low
things, I am afraid, that no Englishman would stoop to. But if that
great Master arose anew, to give lessons to an age of milder passion,
probably he would have said to me, "Water those wounds with your tears,
my friend."
My eyes, being British, were dry as a bone; but upon them fell, as they
looked up, the lustre of a very different pair, like bright stars
extinguishing a glow-worm. And the glory of these was deepened by the
suffusion of their sparkle with a tender mist of tears. No blush was
lurking in the petal of the cheeks, no smile in the brilliant bud of
lips; pity and gentle sorrow seemed to be the sole expression.
I dropped the dog's great legs, and rose, and with all the grace that in
me lay--and that was very little--took off my hat, and made a bow, the
former being of the bowler order, and the latter of the British.
"No, no. Please not to do that," she said, "it is so very grievous.
Forgive me, if I am sad to look at. It always comes upon me so, when I
behold things beautiful."
"But," I replied, being quite unable to consider myself of that number,
even upon such authority, "it is I that should be shedding tears; it is
I that behold things beautiful."
"It was of the dog I meant my words,"--this was rather a settler for
me,--"and the beautiful tokens he manifests of gratitude to the kind
gentleman. And we have been desiring always; but the place we could not
find. It is my father who will best speak, for he has great talent of
languages. He was hoping greatly that you would come. I also have been
troubling in my mind heavily, that we must appear so ungrateful. It is
now ten days that have passed away. But we could not learn to what place
to send; neither did we know the name of Mr.--but I will not spoil it,
until you have told me how to pronounce."
"_Cranleigh, Cran-lee_; as if it were spelled with a double e coming
after the letter l," said I to her. While to my all abroad self I
whispered, "May the kind powers teach her to spell it, by making it her
own, while she looks like that."
For sometimes it is vain to think, and to talk is worse than lunacy. Her
attitude and manner now, and her way of looking at me,--as if I were
what she might come to like, but would rather know more about it,--and
the touches of foreign style (which it is so sweet to domicile), and the
exquisite music which her breath made, or it may have been her lips,
with our stringy words--I am lost in my sentence, and care not how or
why, any more than I cared how I was lost then, so long as it was in
Dariel's eyes.
If Dariel's eyes will find me there, and send me down into her heart,
what odds to me of the earth or heaven, the stars, the sun, or the moon
itself--wherein I am qualified to walk with her?
Possibly that sweet Dariel saw, but could not comprehend my catastrophe.
She drew back, as if from something strange, and utterly beyond her
knowledge. Then she cast down those eyes, that were so upsetting me; and
I felt that as yet I had no right to perceive the tint, as of heaven,
before the earth has glimpsed the dawn, which awoke in welcome wonder on
the wavering of her face. See it I did however, and a glow went through
me.
Who can measure time when time acts thus? _Kuban_ arose, as if his
wounds were all a sham, or as if we at least were taking them in that
light, and hating--as a good dog always does--to play second fiddle,
turned his eyes from one to the other of the twain, in a manner so
tragic that we both began to laugh. And when Dariel laughed, there could
be nothing more divine, unless it were Dariel crying.
"Oh, how he does love you, Mr. Cran-lee!" she exclaimed with a little
pout, pretending to be vexed. "What a wicked dog he is to depart from
his mind so! Why, he always used to think that there was nobody like
me."
"If he would only think that I am like you, or at any rate try to make
you like me, what a blessed animal he would be!" This I said with
pathos, and vainly looking at her.
"I am not very strong of the English language yet. It has so many words
that are of turns incomprehensible. And when one thinks to have learned
them all, behold they are quite different! To you I seem to speak it
very, very far from native."
"To me you seem to speak it so that it is full of music, of soft clear
sounds, and melody, that no English voice can make of it. It is like the
nightingale I heard when first--I mean one summer evening long ago;
only your voice is sweeter."
"Is it? Then I am glad, because my father hears it always. And he knows
everything I think, before I have time to tell him. And he can speak the
English well,--as well as those who were born in it. Seven different
languages he can speak. Oh, how he is learned! To hear me talk is
nothing--nothing--folly, trifles, nothing more than deficiency of
wisdom, and yet of himself he thinks no more, perhaps not so much as you
do."
"I think nothing of myself at all. How can I, when I am with you? Yet a
great many different people think highly of me, and I do my best to
deserve it." This was no vain word, although it is not like my usual
manner to repeat it.
"I am glad of that," she answered simply, looking with kind approval at
me; and I saw that her own clear nature led her to believe everything
she heard. "That is the proper way for people, and as the good Lord
intended. But how long we have been discoursing, without anything to be
said, while the dusk of the night is approaching! It is my father beyond
all doubt whom you have come by this long road to see. And he has been
desiring for many days to obtain the privilege of seeing you; not only
that he may return his thanks, but to learn that you did not receive a
wound; for he says that the wound of a dog is very dangerous in this
country."
"Yes, I did receive a wound, and a bad one rather,"--how mean of me it
was to speak like this! Although I was telling the simple truth, for
there was a deep gash all down my left forearm. "But I would gladly
receive a hundred wounds, for the sake of anything that you loved. For
what am I? Who could find any good in me, compared with you, or even
with _Kuban_?"
But this fine appeal to the tender emotions did not obtain any success
that time. If the pity, so ignobly fished for, felt any tendency to
move, it took good care not to show itself in the fountains watched by
me.
"Mr. Cran-lee speaks much from his good-will to please. For there must
be good in him, even to compare with _Kuban_, if a great many people
think highly of him, and he does his best to deserve it. But is it not
the best thing to hasten at once with this very bad wound to the one who
can cure it? Let us waste no more time, but go at once to meet my
father."
There was no getting out of this; and I said to myself that Miss Dariel
was not quite so soft after all. What had she told me about herself?
Nothing. How much about her father? Very little. And here was I being
towed off to him, when I wanted to talk with her, study her, make way
with her, find out whether there was any other villain in pursuit of her
marvellous attractions,--in a word, make my best love to her.
But this was the very thing she would not have at present; and I felt
like a man tumbling out of a tree, through making too lofty a grab at
the fruit. So I fell into the opposite extreme of manner, to make it
come home to her that I was hurt. This was another mistake; because, as
I came to understand long afterwards, the feminine part of mankind is
never struck all of a heap, as we are. If you will only think twice, you
will see that it never could be expected. For drop as we may--and the
ladies too often call upon us now to drop it--the sense that is inborn
in us, of a purer and higher birth in them, which they kept and exalted
by modesty--even if at their own demand we let fall every atom of that,
and endeavour to regard them as bipeds on a wheel, with limbs rounder
than our own,--I say that we ought to try still to regard them as better
than ourselves, though they will not have it so. And what could say more
for their modesty?
I looked at Dariel, and saw that she was not thinking of me at all,
except as a matter of business. And fearing to have gone too far, I
tried to behave in every way as a well-conducted stranger. This put her
into a friendly state of mind, and even more than that. For it was now
her place to be hospitable; and I displayed such bashfulness, that
believing her father to be the greatest man on earth, she concluded that
I was terribly afraid of him.
"You must not be uneasy about meeting him;" she spoke in a voice as
gentle as the whisper of the wind in May, when it tempts a young lamb to
say "Ba!" "I assure you, Mr. Cran-lee, although he can be very stern
with persons at all wicked, to those who are upright and good, he is a
great deal less austere and rigid than even I am. And I am afraid that
you have discovered much harshness in my character, for you appear to
dread a walk with me."
I had fallen behind as we approached the door, partly to show my
humility, and partly to admire the grace and true perfection of her
slender figure in motion. English girls may have lovely figures, but
none of them can walk like that.
"No," I said after some delay, to make her turn her head again, and
repeat that look of penitence; "you have been as kind as I could expect,
perhaps more kind than the ladies of your country are to a mere
stranger."
If ever I deserved a good hearty kick, and too often that has been my
merit, here was a solid occasion for it. She stopped and spread both
hands to me, and looked at me with her clear chin raised, and trembling
lips, and soft dark eyes, whose radiant depths appeared to thrill with
tender sorrow and self-reproach. What eyes to tell the tale of love, to
the happy man who shall inspire it!
No dawn was there now of any warmth, but light alone, the light of
kindliness and good-will, and the tranquil beams of gratitude. What more
could I expect as yet, though myself in such a hurry?
"What a beautiful place! I had no idea that it would be like this."
I spoke as we stood within the wall, for the maiden now seemed timid.
"Why, I must have lost my wits altogether, when I was here the other
day, for I do not remember a bit of this. What a wonderful man your
father is! What taste, and skill, and knowledge! But it must have taken
him many years to bring it into this condition. It was nothing but a
pile of ruins, inside an old ruinous wall, at the time when I used to
come home from Winton. And how beautifully it is laid out! I should like
to know who planned it. Why you must have quite a number of men to keep
it in such order. It is almost like a dream to me. But how rude I must
appear to you! Though really if the light were good, I could sit here
for an hour together and like to look at nothing else but all this
perfect loveliness."
She had come quite close to me as I spoke, with a bright smile of
pleasure on her face,--for I warmed my description knowingly,--and as I
said _perfect loveliness_, I think she knew where I found it. For she
turned away, as if to look at the distance I was praising; and being in
rapid chase of ever so trifling a thing to encourage me, after the many
mistakes I had made, I tried with the greatest delight to believe that
she did that to rob me of a conscientious blush. But the wonder of all
these zig-zag ways, when a straight solid man tumbles into them, is that
they tussle him to and fro, a hundred times as much as they upset a
slippery fellow whose practice is to slide in and out at pleasure. "Oh,
for the wits of Tom Erricker now!" was the only thought of things
outside, that came to me in this crisis. Then again in a moment I
scorned that wish. For a strong heart from its depth despises surface
gloss and frothy scum.
"What is the proper expression for me? I see your noble father in the
distance. How shall I accost him?" That I used such a word as
_accost_--which I hate, but no better word would come to me--shows the
state of mind I had fallen into; not about him, but his daughter. For
the great Sûr--whatever they might mean--I did not care a fig as yet,
and in fact felt rather annoyed with him. But it was of the utmost
moment now to make her prize my deference. That she did, far beyond the
value, and smiled at me with a superior light.
"In his own land he is a prince," she said; "not as those Russians call
everybody; but a Prince of the longest generations. He, however, makes
lightness of that; for he must have been the same without it. I have
read that you are proud of your English race, which comes down to you
naturally. But my father is purer than to dwell upon that. He allows no
one to call him _Prince_. And I never call him anything but Father. We
have not many names in our country. He is Imar; and I am only Dariel."
Before I could go further into that important subject, I found myself
looking up at the most magnificent man I ever saw.