THE DAWN OF A NEW LIFE
To desire death is to live, and to desire life is to die. It is the
mockery of human existence, the experience of all. I had willed to die
at that moment, without further speech or opportunity for thought, and
death seemed to have turned his back upon me.
We drifted on, tossed high and low by the tall waves which rose around
us like black shadows, threatening destruction at every moment. Often
when we had seen one towering above us we had thought that the end had
come, and I had felt my lover's arms tighten around me, and my lips had
clung close to his. But again and again a reprieve was granted to us.
Although every timber in our frail craft shivered, we survived the shock
and drifted into smoother water.
A little before midnight the wind dropped, although there was a heavy
sea still running. Through a dimly woven mist we could see the stars
faintly shining between the masses of black clouds rolling across the
wind-swept sky. But there was no moon; nothing to show us whither we
were drifting upon the waste of waters. There was something
inexpressibly weird in that darkness. It seemed less a blank darkness
than a darkness of moving shapes and figures--a living darkness, somehow
suggesting death. It will live in my memory forever.
"Do you mind dying, Lumley?" I asked him once.
"Yes," he answered solemnly, "I do. I am just learning how sweet it
would be to live."
I held him tighter, for at that moment a great wave had broken over us.
I dreaded nothing but separation.
"Supposing that, if we lived, something came between us?" I whispered.
"Suppose there was something between us which nothing could alter,
nothing could move--what then?"
"I cannot suppose it," he answered. "Nothing could come between us that
I would not overcome--nothing in life."
"Still, if it were so?" I persisted.
"Then I would sooner die like this if we are to die. We are in God's
hands."
I shuddered at that last sentence. If indeed we were on the threshold of
eternity, what had I to hope from God? Alas! at that moment my earthly
love was so strong that the fear of death was weak and faint.
We sat there silent and full of strange emotions, and expecting every
moment the end to come. All of a sudden, we both of us gave a great cry,
and my lover leaped up so that our boat rocked violently and nearly
capsized. For my part, I sat still, gazing, with distended eyes and
parted lips, upon the strangest sight which I had ever seen.
A great blaze of brilliant light seemed suddenly to flash into the
horizon, and falling into one long level ray, to travel slowly across
the surface of the water toward us. Everything which lay in its path was
revealed to us with minute and wonderful distinctness. So vivid was the
illumination that we could see the white foam on the top of the green
waves, and the floating seaweed rising and falling. Outside that one
level blaze, more brilliant even than the sunlight, the darkness seemed
blacker and more impenetrable than ever. It was a sight so marvelous
that I held my breath, awed and wondering. Then my lover gave a great
cry.
"Margharita, my love, my love, we are saved!"
"What is it?" I whispered.
"The electric search light. I had it fitted to the _Stormy Petrel_ by
the purest chance a few months ago. Here it comes. Put your hand before
your eyes, sweetheart. Oh, God, that they may see us!"
Swiftly it passed across the great desert of waters, and reached us. We
seemed suddenly bathed in a blinding glare of white light, and,
notwithstanding our anxiety, were forced to cover our eyes. There was a
moment's suspense. Then the sound of a cannon came booming across the
sea, and a rocket sped up into the air.
"Thank God! thank God!" my lover cried, "they have seen us. Look up,
Margharita! They are more than a mile away now, but they will be here in
a quarter of an hour. We are saved!"
He was right. In less than that time a boat from the _Stormy Petrel_ had
picked us up, and we were standing in for land, firing rockets all the
way to announce the news to Lord and Lady St. Maurice. So ended this,
the most eventful day of my life.
And with its close has ended that sworn purpose which has brought me
here. I, Margharita di Marioni, as one day I had hoped to call myself,
am about to disgrace the traditions and honor of my race. I am going to
break my faith with a suffering old man. I am going to tell my uncle
that my hand can work no harm upon any of this family.
Before me here lies his answer to my letter--my confession to him. How
he trusts me, when even now he never doubts.
* * * * *
"MARGHARITA,--I have received your letter, and I have pondered over it.
You are young to have such a sorrow, yet I do not doubt but that you
will act as becomes your race. You can never think of marriage with this
man; you a Marioni, he a St. Maurice! Yet I grieve that you have let
such a feeling steal into your heart. Pluck it out, Margharita, I charge
you; pluck it out by the roots! Think not of the wrong done to me, or,
if you do, think of me not as a man and your uncle, but as Count
Leonardo di Marioni, the head of my family, the head of your family. We
have been the victims, but the day of our vengeance is at hand. There is
no life without its sorrows, child! In the days to come, happiness will
teach you to forget this one.
"Farewell, my child. I shall send you no more notes. Write or come to me
the moment the deed is done! Come to me, if you can; I would hear your
own lips tell me the news. Yet do as seems best to you. In sympathy and
love,
"L. di M.
"One word more, child. Do not for a moment imagine that I blame you for
what has happened. Old man though I am, I too know something of the
marvels and the vagaries of this same love. Will can have little to do
with its course. I, who have suffered so deeply, Margharita, can and do
sympathize and feel for you."
* * * * *
This is the letter. I shall seal it up with the others, and this little
record of my life, on the last page of which I am now writing. When I
leave here they will go with me.
Yes, it is the dawn of a new day. Shall I ever see another, I wonder? I
think not! For me, no longer will the sun rise and set, the breezes
blow, and the earth be fair and sweet. All these things might have been
so much to me, for I have held in my hand the key to an everlasting
happiness--that deathless love which opens the gates to heaven; which
sanctifies life and hallows death. Oh! forgive me that I leave you, my
love! There was no other way. Only I pray that in that other world we
may meet again in the days to come, and that the music of our love may
ring once more through heart and soul. Farewell! Farewell!