It was early September, and the night was warm. The water was lightly wrinkled. It shimmered1 from the extreme height at which they viewed it, like beaten metal. The light rapidly died down, and already the lit rooms of a house were brighter than the sky. The house was beneath them, alone upon the side of a steep hill, its windows wide to the sea.
Peter was alone with Miranda for the first time that day. Hardly a week ago he had been eagerly looking each morning towards England. From the time he had landed, and Miranda had seen in him a soul swept clean, a will straining towards her, he had lived in the clutch of preparation and routine. All was now ready, every unessential thing put away.
In long days upon the deck of his yacht Peter had come to distinguish between the physical unrest of his late years—vague and impersonal3, afflicting4 him like hunger or the summer heat—and[Pg 330] the perfect passion of his need for Miranda.
Gradually, too, in these long weeks upon the sea Peter began to see steadily5 things which hitherto had wavered. He had touched reality at last. He overleaped the categories in a burning sense that life was very vast and very near; that the virtue6 of men could not easily be measured and ranked; that the wonder of existence began when it ceased consciously to confront itself, to probe its deep heart, and absurdly to appoint itself a law. He went through his adventures of the last few years with a smile for his ready infatuation with small aspects of men and things. He had attempted to inspect the discipline of the world, calling mankind to attention as though it were a regiment7. He had been a Socialist8, and then very nearly a Tory. Now, between sky and water, he vainly tried to constrain9 things to a formula. He found that he no longer desired to do so. He began to understand his mother's deep, instinctive10 acceptance of time and fate. All now seemed unreal, except the quiet, happy, and assured act of life itself. Craning at the Southern stars, he no longer desired to measure or to track their passage. He felt them rather as kindred points of energy. The pedantry11 and pride of knowledge, the ambition to assess, the need to round off heaven, to group mankind in a definite posture12 and take for himself a firmly intelligible13 attitude in his own time and way—these things had suddenly left him. Life was now [Pg 331]emotionally simple, and it therefore had ceased to be intellectually difficult. He had found humour and peace—an absolute content to receive the passing day. Life itself mattered so much to him—so brimmed him with the passion of being—that all he had thought or read was now rebuked14 as an insolent15 effort to contain the illimitable.
Interminably, of course, he thought of his personal quest. It all seemed very simple now. He had had some unhappy and trivial adventures. Their sole importance was to make him measure truly the high place of love. In the beginning was blind desire. Then the soul, with eyes for beauty and the power to elect, turned an instinct of the herd16 to a passion of the individual will—a passion whose fruit was loyalty17 and sacrifice, the treasures of art and the face of nature wrought18 into a countenance19 friendly and beautiful. So mighty20 had this passion grown that now it could command, as an instrument, the need out of which it came.
Love was now the measure of a man. Either it put him among creatures, groping uneasily till driven by appetite or fear, or it lifted him among the inheritors of passion, a gift rare as genius, a sanctuary21 from the driven flesh.
To-night, as Peter sat with Miranda looking towards the sea, the substance of these thoughts lay under the surface of his joy. He wondered if for ever he could beat his wings so high. Surely to die soon would be the perfect mating. They[Pg 332] were now upon a peak whence it was only possible to come down.
They sat quietly as the moments drifted. Words between them suddenly broke upon notes trembling on the edge of silence. To the passion of his adolescence—the passion of five years ago, recovered in Indian seas and among lonely islands of the Pacific—was added now something so intimate and personal that Peter saw in the fall of Miranda's dress and the poise22 of a comb in her hair syllables23 to make him wise. Her beauty had seemed, moments ago, to fill him, but still it poured from her.
He feared to think that this was only a beginning. How could he suffer more happiness and live? He could dwell for ever upon the line of her throat; and when he took her hands it seemed as if she gave to him all he could endure to possess. He feared to be stunned24 and blinded with her light, and he felt in himself an equal energy to dazzle and consume. It must surely be death to touch her to the heart, to pierce rashly to the secret of her power.
Into his happiness there intruded25, when it gave him leave, a profound gratitude26. He felt the need of a visible Power to thank. Almost it seemed he had supernaturally been led to this perfect moment, to encounter it perfectly27. All his youth was gathered up. He would plunge28 at once to the heart of love, his soul unblunted, no step of his adventure known. Many times, during his[Pg 333] days at sea, he had trembled to think how near he had come to losing the unspoiled mystery of the gift Miranda kept. He had marvelled29 at the delicate justice and complete right of her wish that he should clear his soul of all memories they did not share before they intimately met.
Now in the falling dark they sat looking sometimes to sea, sometimes to the light that beckoned30 them home, sometimes to the secret which ever more insistently31 urged and troubled them. They felt the call of their marriage, bidding them closer yet. It shone upon them out of Miranda's window in the house below. To this window he had sailed alone in his ship for long nights. Now that it shone so near, imperiously beckoning32, it hardly seemed an earthly lamp, but one that, when he stepped towards it, must suddenly go out or move away.
But the lure33 was true, for he found it also in Miranda—the look he had seen in her eyes years ago when first he had kissed her. She seemed to be giving herself to him—to give and give again, with treasures uncounted to follow. Yet it was not mere2 giving, but a passing of virtue from one to the other.
"I am glad we waited until now," Peter said in a note so low that it hardly reached her. "Why were you so wise to send me away? Each day has added to you. I cannot believe I shall ever hold you. It seems like wanting the whole world." He waved his hand at the sea.
[Pg 334]
"I could not endure to be less than the whole world," she quickly answered.
"I could die with you now. Life can never again be so wonderful."
Then, suddenly, words were foolish, and he abruptly34 ceased.
The last light of a day, which to-night had lain very late upon the water, had gone quite out. Hardly could they see each other; and missing the lost message of their eyes they pressed closely together. The beckoning window shone more brightly in the dark. Soon it put out land and sky. It could not be avoided. Together they read and answered the steady call. It put between them a growing distress35.
"Kiss me, my husband, and let me go."
Her heart, as Peter took her in his arms, was beating like a creature caught and held.
She almost disappeared into the dark as she went down; but he followed her with his eyes, alert for every step of her passage. At last she had reached the house, and soon Peter could see the light of her room waver with her moving to and fro.
Only Miranda's window was shining now.
Then, with a swiftness that struck mortally at his heart, Miranda's window also was dark, or so it seemed, for the light went down.
Peter spread his arms and stood full breathing for a moment, fighting desperately36 with an unknown power. He had a swift vision of her [Pg 335]waiting. Then he went down the hill, and felt the earth like a carpet spread for his marriage. He turned once only at the door to take, as he felt, a last look at the stars. They seemed like a handful of dust he had flung at the sky.
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1
shimmered
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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2
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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3
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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4
afflicting
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| 痛苦的 | |
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5
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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6
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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7
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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8
socialist
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| n.社会主义者；adj.社会主义的 | |
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9
constrain
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| vt.限制，约束；克制，抑制 | |
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10
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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pedantry
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| n.迂腐，卖弄学问 | |
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12
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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13
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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14
rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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16
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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17
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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18
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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19
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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20
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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23
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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24
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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25
intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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26
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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28
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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29
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
insistently
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| ad.坚持地 | |
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32
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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33
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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34
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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35
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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36
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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