THE ACCUSATION.
The heat of the day had been excessive, but our friends had not suffered
to any great extent because of the shade which the avenue trees had
afforded; and then they had rested during the midday hour, and had not
taken up the journey until late in the afternoon. Then, too, the brisk
trot of the animals, as they moved over the smooth stone pavement, had
created a breeze which was very cooling to the riders; but as they
emerged from the forest, dark clouds were seen rising out of the west;
dark, forboding clouds, which portended rain and probably a hard blow.
The forerunner of this equatorial storm reached them before they arrived
at the villa, in the shape of quick, rapidly moving gusts of wind, which
would overtake them and moving on would leave the air perfectly calm,
hot and humid, until the next gust would spring out of the ground
seemingly, and fly after its leaders.
The riders hurried on, one minute fanned by a refreshing breeze and the
next almost sweltering in the dead calm. But they suffered only a short
time, as the villa was reached and once inside its cool, onyx walls, all
thought of the humidity of the outside was forgotten, and the on-coming
storm was only thought of as making the air cool for the morrow’s
journey. After dinner the travelers went into the garden and hardly any
signs were seen now of the approaching storm; in fact, the evening was
much the same as had been many others since their arrival. They retired
late but had not slept long when the wind rose almost to a gale. The
storm was a novelty, and our friends never having seen an equatorial
storm, all arose and went on the terrace.
The elephants had already sniffed the approaching storm and began to
throw their trunks in the air, moving their huge ears back and forth,
all the time making those funny sounds, which seemed so strange in such
large animals. The storm meant to them a refreshing bath, coupled with a
feed of grass and herbs washed by the cooling rain; they gloried in it.
The zebras were already grazing, or half buried in the long grass, were
rolling and kicking, happy to be free from bridle and saddle.
Onrai alone, of all the party, after going onto the terrace, seemed to
be worried over the storm. He had gone to one end of the terrace, and
now stood looking intently at the black mass of clouds which were
rolling on, coming nearer and nearer, and reaching out huge, dark arms
toward the earth. He was muttering in the strange tongue of his people:
“An omen. Is our great God angry? Have my people failed in their duties?
Have we neglected our work? Have we treated lightly our teachings? No;
but our God is great. He sees all things, and goes deep into the hearts
of his people, and he knows even if they contemplate doing wrong. Oh!——”
Onrai raises his hand to his forehead, and pressing it tightly against
his throbbing temples, he staggers and almost falls.
“Can this thing be?” he gasped. “Is this a warning to me, the King of
the Land of On? Is this to show me that God knows my sinful thoughts and
would check them before it is forever too late? Oh, my God, spare me!”
he cries, and sinks into one of the onyx chairs near him. His powerful
frame shook like an aspen leaf; his breath came in gasps; his hands
twitched nervously; his eyes almost started from their sockets as he
gazed on the black clouds, which seemed to engulf him. Unable to look
upon the fearful sight any longer, he sprung to his feet, and shading
his eyes with his hand as if to hide from view those fearful clouds, he
staggered towards the entrance. He struck something as he hurried
forward, and started back frightened. Looking up he saw that it was
Enola, and raising his hand as if to warn her back, he said:
“You, too? Have you come to accuse me at this moment? Could you not have
spared me?”
Onrai again started for the entrance, but Enola noticing the pained look
in his face, and being totally at a loss to know why he should address
her in this manner, caught him by the light tunic as he was passing her.
He stopped and looked at her with frightened eyes.
“Onrai,” said Enola, “don’t look at me in that way. How have I offended
you? Tell me, is it I or one of my people?”
Onrai looked at her, his heroic figure standing erect, his shoulders
thrown back as if to defy the influence which Enola was exerting over
him. But his face was deathly pale and his hands clutched nervously as
they hung by his side; his eye never flinched, however, as he looked at
her.
“Onrai, do not look at me so,” said Enola, stepping back, growing afraid
of that unbending figure and steely gaze.
“What have I done?” she continued. “I come to seek you to-night to thank
you for the happy, happy day which you have given me; for having
suggested this pleasant journey. The beautiful music of the evening made
me forget for a time this duty, but I thought of it as I retired to my
apartment and was glad of the opportunity which the storm afforded me to
thank you yet to-night. My heart was light as I came from the villa,
expecting to find that great, noble Onrai glad to see me and ready to
hear my thanks, but I find him excited and nervous, and when he sees me
he speaks as I never heard him speak before. Tell me, oh, tell me,
Onrai, what have I done?”
Enola stopped near the entrance and waited for Onrai’s answer.
“What have you done?” he said. “Everything. You have come from that
planet home of yours and have stolen into our land in the night; but we
have received you as guests and have treated you as we would those who
come from afar and sought our hospitality.
“Myself and my people have done all in our power to make your sojourn in
our world a happy one. From that world of yours, far above, in one of
those shining stars which twinkles and throws its soft light on us on
the clear beautiful nights, we believe that your people have for ages
looked down on us, and have learned our life, our customs and our
secrets. This we have learned to believe since you have come among us,
for before that time we knew nothing of another people. And you come to
us with the chain of the high priest about your neck, and this is proof
that you know the great secrets of the high priests and those of the Day
of Resis. For this reason we have looked for you to respect our laws and
customs. To all but me you seem to have done this. I have just begun to
believe that you, and may be your people, have no respect for the sacred
laws that govern me, the King of On. To-night has been a revelation to
me. Never before, during my life, has there come such a storm at this
season. I looked at the dark heavens and saw the black clouds hurried on
by the mad winds, almost sweeping the earth, and I could see in it only
a warning. Then it flashed over my bewildered brain that the warning was
meant for me. I had sinned. But why had I sinned? Because tempted by you
who knew our laws, and knew the fearful punishment which would be the
King’s who would dare disobey these laws. You who cared naught for all
these, but still threw out your alluring temptations, your subtle
fascinations, in order to entrap me. But God has spoken in this storm
and I am saved. Listen to His voice,” and as he ceased speaking a
fearful peal of thunder broke through the air as if in answer to him.
Enola stood aghast during this accusation, unable to account for this
fearful change in Onrai’s conduct toward her, until he had mentioned the
storm, and then she realized that it was this unusual phenomenon which
had wakened in his mind the sin he was committing in loving her; she
must let him know that these fascinations were only those which God had
given her, and that the seeming allurements were but the graceful
acknowledgments of his many courtesies. But how to tell him, how to
convince him! He still stood like a statue, like an accusing Apollo who
had but little mercy for one who had caused him even a moment’s pain. To
suffer for even an instant was such a new sensation to the man, and it
was so acute withal, that for the time he could find no forgiveness for
the one who had caused it, and he stood contemplating Enola, for the
moment a savage, glaring at the one who had caused him a moment’s pain,
and whom he had in his power to torture as he saw fit.
He forgot his love for her for the moment; he only remembered that she
had hurt him, and when the first great fear of the discovery was over,
he grew hard and cold and wanted revenge. Enola saw that she had blind
superstition to deal with, superstition whose birth was in sin, and she
knew that it would be hard to convince Onrai of her innocence. But this
she must do; so taking a step timidly toward him, she raised her hand as
if she would touch his arm, but when he saw this movement he
involuntarily drew his arm away as if afraid that her touch would
contaminate him. The movement hurt her more than all his harsh words had
done, and she partially turned as if to walk away, but remembering the
fearful consequences that might ensue unless Onrai’s mind should be
disabused of this fearful mistake which he had made, she turned again,
and placing her hands behind her, walked up to him and looking him
straight in the eye, said:
“Onrai, look at me. Do you see any guilt or flinching in my eye? Do you
think that I, who have the same faith in the same God that you have,
could look at you now if I were guilty, and too, when this fearful storm
is raging, which you call the voice and anger of God? No, Onrai; you and
your people have a mistaken idea when you think we knew your life,
customs and laws before we came to your world. We did not even know that
your people existed; but we knew that there was a world here and we
determined to visit it, and learn whether it was inhabited or not. So we
came and found this glorious land and this beautiful, justice-loving
people. And never until to-night have I learned to think that they had
any but the grandest minds, with the most charitable thoughts for those
who had been thrown in with them for awhile. I understand your laws but
imperfectly, and I do not understand why you should treat me thus, or
accuse me of wishing to make you sin or suffer because of an unusual
phenomenon. Search your mind, Onrai, and see if it was not yourself who
sinned willingly and not because I have tempted you; ask yourself if in
any way I have been less modest than your native women; whether I have
sought you, or you me; whether I have not avoided you rather than sought
you. Ask yourself these questions, and then accuse me if you can.” And
as Enola finished speaking, she drew herself up nobly and started to
walk toward the entrance. She had nearly reached this when Onrai stepped
forward and almost in a whisper, said:
“Enola, wait; wait; let me think; let me think; my brain is whirling; I
cannot see all clearly yet; but it is growing brighter. Oh, Enola,
forgive, forgive me. I cannot now tell you the great sin which I thought
was your making, but which I can now see was all my own. The laws of the
Land of On are stringent on this point, and if I should give up to the
temptation I would be killed. To be killed for sinning means not only
the death of the body, but the everlasting torture of the soul. It is a
fearful thing for any of us to sin, but how much more so is it for the
King, the chosen one, who is the people’s choice not because he is the
greatest physically, but the purest of mind, if there can be one purer
than the others. But I have sinned unwittingly, and it is because of
this that I was so ready to accuse you. But I look at you now and see in
that clear, unflinching eye, that smooth brow and erect body, no guilt.
You are innocent, Enola; innocent and I ask forgiveness. It seems
strange that I should use the word to one on earth, for it belongs to
God, and is never used among us. But I have wronged you fearfully and I
know not how else to make amends. Forgive me, Enola,” and as he
finished, he took her hand and raised it to his lips.
Enola was crying, for the pleading words of this strong man, this King,
touched her strangely.
“But tell me, Onrai, of this strange sin, that I may know,” she said.
“No,” Onrai answered, “it would be a greater sin to tell it to you. But
listen; what is that fearful rumbling sound?”