CHAPTER X

THE GATEWAY TO THE FUTURE

Every Sardanian hand in the great hall was uplifted in salute as five

men entered through one of the pillared arches. Two of them were of

bearded middle age, evidently persons of station in the land; but the

eyes of the throng and the eyes of Rose Emer and Polaris passed them

indifferently, to gaze on the three who followed.

It did not need the whisper of Kard the Smith, "He in the center is the

prince," to distinguish the ruler of Sardanes. He was not more richly

garbed than his companions, or differently. Neither was he taller than

they, or of more commanding presence. All of the three were of great

height, and all carried themselves regally. Something in the mien of

his high-featured, thoughtful face, in his large black eyes, and in the

lines of his smoothly shaven countenance bespoke his kingship as surely

as though a herald had preceded him and cried out: "This is Helicon,

Prince of Sardanes!"

The three were brothers, Helicon, the eldest, was well under thirty

years. The two who walked on either side of him were of the startling

likeness to each other found only in twins.

Surprise was written large on the features of all of the party as they

came into the open space before the throne, and they halted. The two

nobles stared frankly. The faces of the twin princes expressed a kindly

curiosity, not unmixed with the general awe in which the Sardanians

held the strangers. In the face of Helicon was a similar expression,

but with less of awe and more of grave dignity.

His eyes roved over the pack of dogs, to him the most unusual figures

of the group; hesitated in admiration at the splendid form of Polaris,

and passed to Rose Emer.

As their glances met, the eyes of the prince opened wide, and seemed

suddenly to become suffused. Then they snapped back to the face of

Polaris, and seemed to carry a quick question. The son of the snows

regarded him calmly; but there was in his calmness a challenge, the

more deadly because of its quietude. His right hand, which rested on

the neck of Marcus, contracted so powerfully that the dog whined in

pain. Polaris knew that he had found an enemy.

Helicon swung on his heel and ascended the steps to the throne.

The nobles and the two tall princes took seats, and Kard the Smith,

with the enthusiasm of the born orator, stood forth to tell his story.

"The man, sayest thou, cometh out of the snows, and speaketh our

tongue?" interrupted Helicon in the midst of the tale.

"Even so, prince," said Kard.

"And the woman cometh from beyond, and speaketh not our language,

but one of her own, which the man speaketh also? And the woman is a

princess in her own land?"

"That, O prince, is true!"

"Then cease though thy tale, Kard, and let us hear from the man in our

tongue, of himself and of the princess, and of how they came hither."

With little relish for such cutting short of his bombast, Kard the

Smith stood back and yielded the floor to Polaris.

In a few words the man of the snows sketched the chances which had

brought the girl and himself to Sardanes.

"Then thou wert reared in the great wilderness, and knowest naught of

the world, or of Sardanes, or even of who thou thyself art?" questioned

Helicon. His voice was even and courteously intoned; but, though the

man he questioned was of little experience, Polaris understood the

sneer that lay in the words.

"So it seemeth, Prince Helicon," he answered quietly.

"And the woman thou didst find in the snows, she is a princess? I can

well believe that."

"Nay, prince, for she cometh from America, a great land where there are

no princes or princesses. Yet is she of high rank in her land, as her

birth and wealth entitle her."

Helicon frowned. "How meanest thou--a land in which are neither

princes or princesses?" he asked quickly. "How, then, are the people in

that land ruled?"

"By the people themselves are the people ruled in America, O prince,"

Polaris answered. "The whole of the country and its lesser divisions

are governed by men chosen by the people to rule for certain spaces of

years, when others are chosen."

"Are there, then, no kings or princes in the world?" asked Helicon

sharply.

"Aye, princes and kings rule in many of the lands of the world,"

answered Polaris, "but their power is limited more and more by the

wishes of their people. In some other lands the government is like that

in America."

"Truly, this America of which thou speakest must be a strange country.

Here in Sardanes I hold the power of decision over life and death; aye,

even unto the Gateway to the Future extendeth the power of Sardanes's

prince."

"Yet," and the voice of Polaris rang like a bell--"yet, of all lands in

the world, is America the greatest--and hath no prince or king."

Over the face of the prince passed a flush of annoyance. He waved his

hand in dismissal of the conversation.

"Hospitality shall be thine, outlander of the snows. Thou shalt rest

and be refreshed. More of thy strange tales will I hear anon. And the

girl--" His eyes softened as they strayed again to Rose Emer, and again

the red blood flashed up in his cheeks. For a moment he seemed lost in

his thoughts.

* * * * *

All through the interview the young man in the black stone seat had sat

motionless and attentive, his eyes glued on the strangers, his ears

drinking in every word spoken by Polaris, his expression rapt. Now he

arose and stepped forward. Before the Prince Helicon could speak again

he interposed.

"If it be pleasing to the strangers, I, Kalin the Priest, will make

them welcome at mine own home in the Gateway to the Future." Without

waiting for the objection which the prince seemed to be framing, Kalin

addressed himself directly to Polaris.

"Is the hospitality of Kalin welcome to thee, O man with the hair of

the sun? Much there is that Kalin fain would learn from thee, and

perhaps some little that he may tell thee in return. Say, wilt come,

thou and the woman?"

Polaris looked into his eyes, and somewhere in their dreamy depths he

thought he read more meaning than the words of the priest conveyed to

him. He stepped forward and tendered his hand, a form of salutation

which, although new to the Sardanians, Kalin accepted.

"Thy most kind offer of hospitality I accept for myself and for the

lady," Polaris said. "She hath, I fear, much need of rest."

They left Helicon on the throne in the Judgement House, looking as if

he liked the new arrangement little enough. As they passed out of the

hall, five or six men, all dressed in somber black, detached themselves

from the crowd of Sardanians and joined Kalin the priest. Under his

direction they fetched the sledge and drove it toward the lower end of

the valley, whither Kalin and his two guests followed.

On the way Polaris told Rose Emer of the meaning of the conversation

in the hall, which she had understood only so much as she was able to

guess from the demeanor of the prince and of Polaris. As they talked,

Kalin, although their tongue was unknown to him, courteously walked

ahead.

"They seem to be a happy people, but I don't think I'm going to like

this prince of theirs," said Rose Emer when she heard the details of

the talk. "And you, who never have seen America, have so defended it

that you have put the gentleman out sadly. From what you have said to

him, he will think that we have no very exalted opinion of princes. If

he were not such a grave-looking personage I should think that he tried

to flirt with me."

"What is the meaning of 'flirt,' lady?" asked Polaris.

Rose Emer's answer was a silvery laugh. "Sometimes, in your cold and

snows, your knowledge makes me feel like a child; but when you get back

to where I came from you will have a great deal to learn," she said

lightly.

In spite of the privations and terrors through which she had passed,

and the grief at the loss of her brother, the spirits of Rose Emer

were rising amazingly in the warmth and sunshine of Sardanes. For all

her lightness of speech, the girl could not but feel alarmed at the

expression she had read in the eyes of the Prince Helicon, although she

would not admit to Polaris that she had taken note of it.

They crossed the little bridge again and the plain beyond it, and began

the ascent of the one green mountain that stood verdure-clad in strange

contrast to its score of bleak-crowned sisters.

"What do they mean by the 'Gateway to the Future,' Polaris?" asked the

girl.

Polaris, in turn, put the question to Kalin.

"It lieth before us," said the priest, pointing to the green

mountainside. "Hast thou not noted that in all Sardanes no man or woman

is old, or crooked of body, or diseased? When the first chills of age

creep upon a Sardanian and bow his form and whiten his hair, then he

cometh to me and passeth through the gateway. Thither likewise come the

dead when one dieth in the land through a mischance or sudden illness.

To me also are brought the babes that are misshapen at birth or that

give promise of but puny life.

"To that which lieth beyond life, be it of glory or of oblivion, all

Sardanians pass through the Gateway to the Future; and I, Kalin, am

guardian to the gateway. The gateway itself shalt thou see anon."

Polaris translated. Rose Emer shuddered. "And I thought them such a

happy people!" she said. "How can they be with such strange, terrible

customs?"

Kalin, it seemed, had the trick of reading people's thoughts, for he

answered:

"It hath been so almost from the first. When our ancestors peopled

Sardanes they came to realize that for them to live on in the small

land and remain a people their numbers must be limited. Thus hath it

been done.

"Sardanians know of no other way, and are content therewith. Think of

what is spared--terrible old age that creepeth on a strong man and

decays him; that withers his limbs and fades the bloom of youth in his

cheeks; of the horrors and distempers which make of life a misery and

a mockery; of the sorrow of living on misshapen and helpless. In thy

world do all such abide with thee?"

Polaris told him that in the world each one waited for his appointed

hour of death, and that it was sin to hasten it for another or for

oneself. The priest shrugged his shoulders.

Higher and higher they ascended the wooded slopes of the mighty hill,

and came to a ledge many yards in width, so earthed and covered with

vegetation and trees that it was like a huge terrace. There were a

number of dwellings similar to those below in the valley. At the back

of the terrace the side of the mountain was sheer for many feet and

covered with vines.

In the center, at the level of the terrace, stood a giant façade of

white stone, carved and scrolled and pillared. Through its arches they

looked into the entrance to a lofty gallery in the heart of the rock.

Kalin ushered them into a room in one of the houses, and attendants

fetched them fruits and bread with a sweet, unfermented wine. In

another building near the edge of the terrace he showed Polaris a

building, used as a stable for a number of the small ponies, where he

might bestow the dogs; and at his word another of his servants brought

both bread and flesh for the animals. When they were refreshed the

priest led them to couch-rooms, bidding them to rest.

"Take thou thy rest well, man of the snows; there is much in thy path

to try thee," he said to Polaris with a slow smile. Thinking on the

enigma of his words, and of the wonders of the lost world, Polaris fell

into the deep sleep which his body craved.

Polaris of the Snows · 第 9 / 22 章