"This was his god--poor old Myles! This was a symbol to him of the
Creator. A great, restful god, yet alive and alert. A changeless
god--a god to pray to even--a listening god."
"He would have given all that he had to know a listening god," she said.
"And yet who is there but has sometimes seen his god, moving dimly,
awfully, behind the veil? A flash--a divine gleam at higher moments.
We fall on our knees, but the vision has gone. We yearn--we yearn to
make our crying heard; but the clay comes between. That was his case.
You and I have our Christ to cling to. He sweetens our cup of
life--when we let Him. But Myles--he walked alone. That is among my
saddest thoughts--among the very saddest thoughts that Nature and
experience bring to me."
"The earth is very full of things that bring sad thoughts."
"Yes, and a man's heart still more full. There are plaintive sorrows I
could tell you about--the sadness of hidden flowers, that no human eye
ever looks upon--the sadness of great, lonely mists on lonely lands; the
sadness of trees sleeping in moonlight; the sadness of a robbed bird;
the eternal sadness and pathos of man's scant certainties and undying
hopes. How wonderful he is! Nothing crushes him; nothing stills the
little sanguine heart of him, throbbing on, beating on through all the
bitter disillusions of this our life from generation to generation."
Far below them, in fulvous light of a wild sunset, the circle of Scor
Hill appeared. Concerning the memories its granite girded, Christopher
knew little; but, at sight of Watern's crest, now dark against the
flaming sky, he remembered that there lay the scene of Stapledon's end,
and regretted that he had come within sight of it that night. To him
the distant mountain was a theatre of tragedy; to Honor, an altar of
sacrifice.
Without words they waited and gazed upon the sky to witness after-glow
succeed sunset. Over the Moor a vast and radiant mist burnt under the
sun and faded to purple where it stretched beneath the shadows of the
hills; and the earth, taking this great light to her bosom, veiled
herself within it. All detail vanished, all fret of incident
disappeared, while the inherent spirit of the place stood visible, where
loneliness and vastness stretched to the sunset and heaved up their huge
boundaries clad only in a mystery of ruddy haze. Particulars departed
from the wilderness, save where, through alternate masses of gloom and
transparent vapour, carrying their harmonies of orange and tawny light
to culmination and crown of fire, there twinkled a burn--twinkled and
tumbled and flashed, under mellow drapery of air and cloud, beneath
flaming depths of the sunset, and through the heart of the earth-born
mist, like a thread of golden beads. Here colour made a sudden music,
sang, and then sank back into silence.
For heavy clouds already reared up out of the West to meet the sun; and
amid far-flung banners and pennons and lances of glory he descended into
darkness. Then the aspect of earth and heaven changed magically; day
waned and grew dense, while a great gloom swept over the heath and rose
to the zenith under a cowl of rain. Dim radii still turned upon the
clouds where light fought through them; but their wan illumination was
sucked away and they died before their shafts had roamed full course.
The cry of the river rose and fell, the rain began to whisper, and all
things merged with unaccustomed speed into formless chaos of twilight.
"No after-glow--then we must look within our own breasts for it--or,
better still, each other's breasts," said the man.
But neither heart nor voice of the woman answered him.