elizabeth sat down on the bench beside him. her whole demeanour said as plainly as speech:
“take your own time. i have nothing on earth to do but listen to you. nothing will give me greater pleasure. this is what i have been wanting.”
it is astonishing what confidence such an attitude will give. confidences—hesitating confidences, at all events—will take flight before the least trace of urgency. if you think you’ve got to be in a hurry to show them, they hide like shy children in the inmost recesses of your soul, and no amount of coaxing will bring them forth to the light of day. you may, by dint of violent effort, force them forth, so to speak; but, coming unwillingly, they show no trace of their true personality. you barely recognize them yourself; [pg 292]a stranger will not recognize them at all, unless he be the one in a million endowed with an almost uncanny gift of insight. and such a one, to my thinking, will never hurry confidences.
“do you mind my smoking?” asked david.
“not a bit,” returned elizabeth cheerily.
david pulled pipe and tobacco pouch from his pocket. busy with them, he spoke.
“i am a bad hand at talking,” said he. “words are slippery kind of things, and slide out of my mind as soon as i think i’ve got them fixed there; so, if i talk in a muddle, perhaps you’ll forgive me. i can’t even get what i want to say very clearly to myself.”
he paused to light his pipe. then went on:
“i fancy i’ll have to talk a bit in kind of symbols. i see things that way myself better than in actual descriptive words. you know, of course, my reason for being here?”
“i do,” responded elizabeth.
david was silent for a moment.
“well,” he said presently, pulling at his pipe, “when i set out on this job, i didn’t think much about the right or wrong of it. it was simply there. it got up and stood before me suddenly, [pg 293]and i said to myself, that’s what i’m going for. i went for it. there’s no need to go into details. it wasn’t an easy undertaking, but i brought it through. what i set out to get is mine. it’s there. i’ve only got to put out my hand and take it.”
“yes,” said elizabeth, as he stopped.
“well,” said david frowning, “now comes the difficult part to put into words. what i’m going to say may sound rubbish; but, for the life of me, i don’t think it is. i’m going to get to symbols now. can you figure to yourself a man finding a mighty powerful telescope; and, looking through it, he sees a sack of gold lying in a place some thousands of miles away, and he knows that the sack is his for the seeking. well, he doesn’t think much about the wisdom of the search, or its difficulties, or what he’s going to do with the gold when he gets it. he just knows it’s there, and it’s his if he can get to it. it isn’t easy to find, and there are other people who think they’ve got the right to it. but anyhow he gets there, and establishes his claim. he’s got nothing to do now, but put in his hand and take everything that is in the sack. it seems simple enough, doesn’t it?”
[pg 294]
“it does,” said elizabeth smiling. the naïveté of his words amused her.
“but,” went on david, “just as he’s waiting to take possession of the whole thing, he suddenly gets a glimpse of something else, a bit further on. now, he doesn’t for the life of him know exactly what it is, or what use he’s going to make of it, only there’s some kind of voice telling him all the time that it’s worth going for. that’s pretty nearly all he knows about it. common-sense seems to say to him, ‘empty your sack first, and then go on and have a look.’ but way back in his mind he has three thoughts,—one is that he hasn’t any darned use for the gold in the sack, he doesn’t know what to make of it—you remember i’m speaking in symbols; the second is that somehow it will be a bother carrying it along with him on this other quest; and the third is a queer sort of idea as to whether the gold is really his after all. of course everybody tells him it is. even the folk, who originally had the handling of it, are bound to say it must be, and yet he doesn’t feel dead sure. do you see what i’m driving at?”
“perfectly,” said elizabeth.
[pg 295]
“well,” he demanded, “what does it all mean?”
for a moment elizabeth was silent.
“can’t you tell me a little more?” she suggested. “haven’t you the smallest idea what this other quest is?”
david hesitated.
“not an atom clearly,” he said slowly, “at least—” he stopped.
again there was a silence. there was no sound but the rippling of the water, and the humming of insects. occasionally a dragon-fly darted across the surface of the stream with a flash of silver wings. beyond the grassy slope of the fields opposite them stood the trees of the wood, dark green, deep shadows lying beneath them.
and in the silence elizabeth waited.
presently david began to speak, shyly, difficultly.
“when i was a very little chap, i used to read tennyson. do you know the bit,
“‘... i heard a sound
as of a silver horn from o’er the hills...’?”
elizabeth nodded.
“‘... o never harp nor horn,
nor aught we blow with breath, or touch with hand.
was like that music as it came; and then
stream’d through my cell a cold and silver beam,
[pg 296]
and down the long beam stole the holy grail,
rose-red with beatings in it, as if alive,
till all the white walls of my cell were dyed
with rosy colours leaping on the wall...’”
her words fell softly into the silence.
“that’s it,” said david, his cheeks flushing. “i used to care for that a lot,” he went on slowly. “i used to play i was one of those knights going in search. but it’s years since i’ve thought of the poem, or had any of those fancies. perhaps working around knocks them out of one’s head. now, what i am going to say will sound pure nonsense. one day, here, in a wood, the whole thing came back to me.”
“yes?” said elizabeth gently.
“i came up through the wood to the edge of the park,” said david, “and i found myself by the castle chapel. a bell rang. i can’t in the least explain what happened then, but i might have been a little chap again, fancying myself near the end of my quest, only it was about a thousand times more real. well, it’s just that. what i played at as a little fellow has got hold of me again.” he stopped.
[pg 297]
“yes,” said elizabeth again, and very softly.
“i’ve tried to tell myself it’s nonsense,” went on david, “but it’s no good. and it doesn’t seem like play now. i can’t explain. of course reason tells me i’m being a bit mad, but the thought has got hold of me and won’t let me go. mr. elmore talked to me yesterday, down on the beach. he talked what seemed to me a good deal of rubbish, though i’ll grant it sounded all right in one way. i told him what i thought about it. but what we both said is beside the matter. it’s just that all the time this idea was gripping me tighter and tighter. it was as if the quest was real. everything—the sea, the rocks, the birds, the sun, the wind—was telling me so. i wanted to speak to someone about it. somehow i felt i could tell you. it seems so real, and yet— what do you make of a fantastic idea like that?” there was almost a wistful note in his voice.
elizabeth’s eyes were shining. perhaps there was the faintest hint of tears in them.
“i don’t think it is fantastic,” she said quietly. “i—i know it isn’t.”
“you know it is real?” asked david wonderingly.
[pg 298]
“i know it is real,” she said. “there are others who could tell you probably a great deal better than i can; yet you’ve asked me, so i will do my best. the story of king arthur and his knights seeking the holy grail, is a beautiful story, a wonderful story. it was a marvellous quest. it was the quest far the holiest purely material thing that ever existed. and yet there is something more wonderful even than it, something always present upon the earth which may be found by all who seek it. i think you have been given a glimpse of that quest.”
david looked at her silently.
elizabeth drew in her breath.
“christ in the blessed sacrament,” she said.
a silence fell on the words. elizabeth’s heart was beating quickly. david was looking at the water.
“when the bell rang,” went on elizabeth, speaking simply, almost as she would have spoken to a child, “it meant that christ had come to the altar within the chapel. he was lying there as helpless as when he was nailed to the cross. it needs, perhaps, as great faith to see him there, under his white disguise, as it did to see god in [pg 299]the man nailed to the tree of shame. yet the one stupendous marvel is as true as the other. up there, in the wood, you recognized the miracle, without realizing what it was that you recognized.”
once again fell silence. the wonder had been spoken, the miracle, which day by day, at countless altars, is silently performed, before which the very angels themselves stand watching in reverent awe.
it was a long time before david spoke again. at last he said:
“yet what bearing has—has that on the other question,—the question of my accepting this inheritance? why do i imagine that my acceptance might, in a measure, hinder this quest? there are, by the way, quite a dozen ordinary reasons which have cropped up to make me dislike the thought of accepting. i’ll grant that they are, no doubt, stupid reasons, which most people would consider barely worth consideration, but there they are. by themselves i might face them fairly, weigh them, and come to a decision; but added to them, all the time, has been this other thought. now the point is,” went on david, leaning forward, and speaking with frowning[pg 300] deliberation, in the effort to make his meaning clear, “which is really influencing me? am i making this queer thought the pretext for wanting to be rid of the whole business, when it’s really that i shirk the thought of the restrictions this new mode of life must bring? or is the thought of these restrictions merely a side issue, which should be ignored while i figure out the other question? and, from every reasonable standpoint, it hasn’t the smallest bearing on the case. it seems absurd to suppose that it has. then there’s the third idea that i mentioned, the idea that the whole thing is a mistake, and that i haven’t any right to the place at all. but that can really be ruled out; there’s so much proof to the contrary. it’s odd to me to analyse like this; and yet, for the life of me, i can’t help doing it.”
elizabeth listened, turned the matter in her mind, and spoke.
“let’s get hold of the business from a purely reasonable and sensible standpoint first,” quoth she. “you’ve made a bid for this inheritance which you believed to be yours. it is proved, from a legal point of view, that it is yours. now [pg 301]tell me what you think of it,—from the merely sensible standpoint, remember.”
“there isn’t one,” laughed david. “at least, i don’t believe any one would dream of calling it sensible. but we’ll call it the material standpoint. the fact is that i’m not in the least dead sure that i want the thing now. it would mean a mode of life entirely foreign to me. i should feel cramped and caged.”
“well?” smiled elizabeth triumphantly.
his statement so entirely coincided with her own and mrs. trimwell’s views. also mrs. trimwell’s exceeding simple solution of the problem was before her mind.
“well,” echoed david, “naturally the simple solution of the difficulty would be to chuck the whole thing.”
“exactly,” nodded elizabeth, delightedly, encouragingly.
“but,” continued david, “there’s another side to the matter. supposing i marry— i don’t feel drawn to marriage i own,—but supposing i do, supposing i have a son, won’t he possibly turn on me? won’t he ask what earthly right i had to renounce what wasn’t mine alone, but which [pg 302]belonged to him as well? won’t he ask why on earth i raked up the whole business if i was going to funk it in the end? won’t he say, ‘you made a fight for a thing which was yours and mine. you got it. if it had been yours alone you would have had every right to chuck it up. but it wasn’t. you had no right to throw away what belonged to me.’”
elizabeth was dumb. truly had this aspect of affairs not dawned upon her. for a minute, for two minutes, she was faced with a new problem. then suddenly, eagerly, she sprang at its solution.
“legally,” she announced, “in strict justice, the inheritance may be yours. in equity i don’t believe it is at all.”
“what do you mean?” asked david.
“the whole thing,” said elizabeth firmly, “turned on that missing document. those old letters—my brother has told me about them—proved that there had been such a document. from the legal point of view those letters were worthless, but only from the legal point of view. taking them into consideration, you could renounce the property at once with a clear conscience. indeed,” pursued elizabeth judicially, [pg 303]“if you want to act from the merely conscientious point of view, disregarding the strict legality of the matter, it would be, to my mind, the only thing to do.”
david gazed at her.
“i never thought of those letters,” he said slowly.
“never thought of them!” cried elizabeth. “why they were the crux of the whole business, the only standpoint the present owners had to work from.”
“oh, i see that now you’ve said it,” replied david. “but, honest injun, i’ve only just seen it clearly. perhaps you will hardly believe me, but it’s true. i left the details of the affair to the solicitors. i began to get a bit sick of the job after i’d got hold of the clues. i gave them all i’d collected, and told them to bring the matter through. i knew of the letters, of course, but somehow never thought of the point of view you’ve put forward. it seems incredible, but i didn’t.”
“i can quite believe that,” said elizabeth thoughtfully.
oh, she understood fast enough. she could understand the nature that went hot-foot to the [pg 304]vital issue, disregarding side lights on it, not from callousness, but merely because they sank into insignificance before the one big thought.
“well?” demanded david.
“oh,” smiled elizabeth, “are you asking me to be judge? well, at all events, you must be jury. if i sum up, you’ve got to weigh the case and give the casting vote, remember.”
she stopped, collecting her thoughts.
“well,” she said after a minute, “you’ll allow that now you are seeing matters from a different standpoint. you could—at least you think you could—say to this imaginary son of yours: ‘my dear boy, legally i had the possession in my hands. morally there was sufficient ground for me to give it up if i chose.’ you see i am not driving home the moral necessity of renouncement. i am leaving a choice.”
“i see,” smiled david.
“well,” pursued elizabeth, “given the freedom in that choice, we find the matter a trifle less complicated. let’s deal first with the purely sensible side. could you get used to the restrictions you fancy the possession would entail? is the possession worth it?”
[pg 305]
“in a measure it is,” said david, answering the last question first. “it isn’t the title, or the place for the grandeur of the thing. it’s the linking up with the past. that holds me,—the oldness of it. i suppose, too, i could get used to the restrictions in time.”
“well,” said elizabeth slowly, “now we come to the more subtle aspect of affairs. you’ve an idea that the possession may hinder you in your quest. you must grant the quest real. i know it is. now, i can’t see the smallest reason why it should prevent you actually finding what you seek. it couldn’t. but i fancy,” went on elizabeth thoughtfully, “that there may be two reasons for that idea of yours. the first, and most obvious, seems that there is probably a bigger moral obligation to give up the possession than appears on the surface of things, in fact that the possession isn’t yours, and that this queer idea is a sort of inner voice telling you so. the other reason—well, that’s only an idea of mine. you can leave it at the first reason.”
“why don’t you tell me the second reason?” demanded david.
“because it isn’t a reason,” said elizabeth. [pg 306]“at least it isn’t properly one. it’s an idea. and—well, anyhow i couldn’t exactly explain it to you.”
“all right,” laughed david. “well then, it comes to this,—legally the thing is mine. morally even, i’m not bound to give it up—we’ve allowed that, remember,—but weighing against it is a quite absurd feeling that i’d better give it up. i’m putting aside mere material inclinations. that sums up the case, doesn’t it?”
“it does,” said elizabeth.
david knocked the ashes from his pipe.
“what would you do?” he asked.
“no,” protested elizabeth, “that isn’t fair. you’re trying to shift the rôles. your summing up is merely a repetition of mine. i refuse to act as jury, and pronounce the verdict.”
“the jury always talk the matter over,” said david aggrievedly. “there’s never a jury of one man.”
elizabeth sighed.
“oh, well,” she said resignedly.
“doesn’t it seem an absurd thing to do—to give it up?” queried david.
“y-yes,” she hesitated.
[pg 307]
“wouldn’t any one say i was pretty mad to do it?” he demanded.
“the world would,” said elizabeth loftily.
“well, we live in it,” announced david calmly. “doesn’t the reason for giving it up appear far-fetched?”
“to those who don’t understand,” allowed elizabeth. she was feeling rather disappointed at his arguments.
“then the common-sense point of view would be to hang on to it?” argued david.
“i suppose so,” agreed elizabeth depressed.
“i am glad you agree with me,” reflected david.
“but i don’t,” protested elizabeth.
“oh!” david raised amazed eyebrows. “you’ve agreed to everything i’ve said.”
“i know,” said elizabeth. “i can’t help it. it’s true. it is common-sense. and yet——”
“well?” queried david.
“oh,” sighed elizabeth, “where’s the use of arguing the matter if you feel like that about it.”
“only i don’t.”
“what do you mean?”
“i don’t feel like that at all,” announced david [pg 308]calmly. “the points of view i’ve put forward express the workings of my intellect, not my feelings.”
“yes?” queried elizabeth.
“and on the whole i prefer my feelings.”
“you mean——?”
“that i’m going to give up the whole thing.”
elizabeth looked at him.
he really was rather an amazing young man.
and then the door in the house behind them opened. elizabeth turned.
“why!” said she surprised. “it’s father maloney.”
he came quickly across the grass. it was obvious that something was amiss.
“forgive me for troubling you,” he began breathlessly. “i have come to ask your help. antony is lost.”
“antony!” exclaimed david and elizabeth in one breath.
half a dozen words from father maloney sufficed as explanation; half a dozen more from the two promised all possible aid.
father maloney returned to the castle. david and elizabeth set off on the search.
