Silas K. Hocking

“ The tones of his voice were still vibrating through the chambers of her brain, the colour mounted to her cheeks whenever she thought of him.
"Perhaps, when I see Gervase," she said to herself, "all my forebodings will vanish. It will be a comfort to know that I have been worrying myself for nothing. If he loves me for my own sake—and I shall soon find out if he doesn't—and if I—I—like him as I have always done, why there is no reason at all why we should not be two of the happiest people in the world. Nevertheless, I wish Sir Charles was not in such a hurry to arrange things." ”

“ If a man gets the stupid notion into his head that he is accountable to somebody for his life, or that he will have to give an account at some hypothetical judgment day, that man becomes a slave at once. He is no longer his own master. No longer free to do what he likes."
"My dear Muller," Rufus questioned, with a smile. "Are you free to do as you like? Is not the life of every one of us bounded by laws and conditions that we cannot escape?"
"Up to a point, no doubt. Freedom is not chaos. Liberty moves within legitimate bounds. Our philosophy is at any rate rational." ”

“ Its success or failure will not matter one whit to Sir Charles Tregony, for instance, and you belong to the same circle, do you not?"
"But its success or failure will matter to you, won't it?"
"It will matter everything to me."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Just what I say. Everything means everything. I've staked my all."
"Oh, no, you have not," she said, brightly. "You may have staked your fortune, and your reputation as an inventor, and your immediate prospects. But life is left."
He caught his breath sharply. "But what is life worth when all you have lived for is swept away?" ”

“ Possibly some subtle and intractable current of sympathy ran between the cottage and the mansion—some occult and undiscovered movement of the air between brain and brain or heart and heart, some telepathic communication that science had not scheduled yet. Be that as it may, neither Rufus nor Madeline could woo a wink of sleep. All through the long hours of the night they lay with wide-open eyes—the one weaving the threads of fancy into all imaginable shapes, the other fighting for the most part the twin demons of pain and fear. ”

“ Gaved seemed to her like a little place that had got stranded in the dim and distant past. The rest of the world had run away from it. It lived on its traditions because it had no hope of a future. Like the granite cliffs that stretched north and south, it never changed. Its business, its politics, its morals, its religion, were what they had been from time immemorial. A man who said anything new, or advanced an opinion that was not strictly orthodox, was regarded with suspicion.
St. Gaved had its charm, no doubt. The charm of antiquity, the charm of leisureliness, the charm of immobility. ”

“ She never expected to see a more soldierly man, never expected to hear a voice that was more clearly meant to command, never anticipated a stronger arm to lean upon.
And yet there was no denying the fact that the brightness of the image had been somewhat dimmed of late. In point of bigness, in point of masterfulness, and, above all, in point of social position, Rufus Sterne was not to be mentioned in the same day with Gervase Tregony, and yet Rufus Sterne, poor and friendless as he was, had touched her heart and her imagination in a way that Gervase had never done. ”

“ When Madeline Grover got used to the cliffs they did not seem nearly so forbidding or dangerous as at the first. Exploring the caves and crannies for sea shells and lichen and gulls' eggs became a favourite pastime of hers. To stay within the precincts of Trewinion Park she declared was like being in prison. To wander across the level lawns, or through the woods by well-kept paths, was an exercise altogether too tame and unexciting. She loved something that had in it a spice of adventure. To do something that nobody else had ever done was very much more to her taste. ”

“ But devotion is lost, affection is thrown away, the burning hope of years is trampled upon."
"I thought we were to let that matter drop, Gervase, until we had had more time to think it over?"
"But I don't want more time, Madeline. My mind is quite made up. If I wait a year—ten years—it will be all the same. For me there is only one woman in the world, and her name is Madeline Grover."
"It is very kind of you to say so, Gervase, and I really feel very much honoured. But, you see, I have only known you about a week." ”

“ Muller persisted.
"Well, if it does you will not suffer; and I shall be glad to hide myself and be at rest."
"You say that now."
"Do you doubt my courage or my honour?" Sterne demanded, sharply.
"No, I doubt neither," Muller said, slowly; "but the instinct of life is strong—especially in the young."
"When a man has something to live for—some great purpose to achieve, or some proud ambition to realise, he naturally wants to live. But take away that something, and life is a squeezed orange which he is glad to fling away." ”

“ But his only son, Joshua, the child of many prayers, gave no evidence of saving grace, and died uncalled to the favours of the heavenly fold, while his grandson, Rufus, appeared, even from boyhood, to be as pagan as his name. This was a great grief to the old man, though he would not have made any sign of it for the world. It was his place to bow, not only in submission, but in thankfulness to the heavenly will. To kiss the hand that smote, and adore the unrelenting power that consigned to eternal burning those who were dear to him as his own life. ”

“ If life were not his own to do as he liked with—to spend or end how or when seemed good in his own eyes—then his attempt to gamble with it was more immoral than for a trustee or a lawyer to gamble with his client's property. Rufus had always prided himself on his honour. It was his sheet-anchor in all the mental storms through which he had passed; but if in throwing his life into pawn he had pawned his honour at the same time what was there left to him that was worth possessing? ”

“ Was Christianity what his grandfather preached, or what he lived? He had heard him declare from the pulpit, with passionate vehemence, that good works were filthy rags, and that morality might be a millstone around the neck to sink the soul in deeper perdition. Yet who cared for his grandfather's theology in Tregannon? The thing that made his name revered was that very morality which he had so often warned his hearers against.
"There's a screw loose somewhere," Rufus said to himself, with a smile. "Perhaps I had better read the New Testament again and try to find out what Christianity is. ”

“ The conversation was a revelation to Rufus in many ways. Marshall Brook was a scholar as well as a thinker. He was as familiar with the German writers as with the English. He was alive to all modern questions, conversant with all the work of the higher critics, alive to all that was fundamental in the creeds of the Churches, contemptuous of the narrowness and bigotry that brought religion into contempt, tolerant of all fresh light, patient and even sympathetic with every form of human doubt, and large-hearted and clear-eyed enough to see that there was good in everything. ”

“ CHAPTER I A STRANGE COMPACT
"Well, of all the hare-brained proposals I ever listened to, this takes the bun"; and Felix Muller adjusted his pince-nez and lay back in his chair and laughed softly.
"But why hare-brained?" asked his companion, seriously. "Singular, I admit it may be; startling if you like, but I do not see that there is anything in it to laugh at."
"You don't?" and the lawyer's face became suddenly grave. "Do you realise what your proposal implies?"
"I think I do," and Rufus Sterne's face flushed slightly; "but you are thinking of a contingency that will never arise." ”

“ She glanced at him for a moment with an indignant light in her eyes, then picked up her book again.
"Pardon me, Madeline," he said, hurriedly, "I would not offend you for the world, but love such as mine makes a fellow jealous and suspicious."
"Suspicious of what?" she demanded.
"Well, you see," he said, slowly and awkwardly, turning away from her, and staring into the fire, "it's better to be honest about it, isn't it?"
"Honest about what?"
"I don't think I'm naturally jealous," he explained, "but father has told me all about your—your—well, your escapade with that scoundrel, Sterne." ”

“ To attempt to reason the matter out would be to destroy a sweet illusion—for that it was illusion he had no doubt. And yet the illusion, or the impression, or the sensation, or whatever it might be, was so delightful that he had not the courage to touch it.
Life had not possessed so many pleasures for him that he could afford to scorch with the white flame of logic even the faintest and most shadowy of them. He had had a hard and unloved childhood, a youth from which all sympathy had been excluded, and a manhood of badly compensated toil and unrealised ambition. ”

“ His great discovery would now never see the light, the toil of years would be wasted, the travail of his brain would end in darkness and silence, and in return a foolish girl would dance her heedless way through life.
But in the great crises of life logic perpetually fails, and philosophy proves but a broken staff. Neither logic nor philosophy comforted Rufus in that solemn and trying hour. He could not reason it out, but deep down in his soul he felt that death was far less terrible than being a coward. Better die in the service of others than live merely for self. ”

“ He would save his honour at the expense of his honesty.
It was not of failure, however, he thought, as he looked towards the sunset. The future was opening out before his imagination in widening vistas of success.
"I shall astonish everybody," he said to himself, a bright, eager smile spreading itself over his face. "Muller believes in me, but he has no idea how great my scheme is. I don't see the end of it myself, for one thing will lead to another. Oh! I shall have a crowded life; for one success will beget other successes, and so I shall go forward—never idle—till my day's work is done." ”

“ If she had cared less for him she would have been less sensitive. Beryl had just told her that she had been carried away by a foolish and romantic attachment, or words to that effect, and it would never do to give colour and substance to the insinuation. She must keep her self-respect whatever happened.
For several days Rufus was more frequently in her thoughts than was good for her peace of mind. She pictured his disappointment, his helplessness, his despair. She saw him in imagination wandering out on the cliffs alone, with knitted brows and troubled face. She wondered what he would do. ”

“ The thought of failure very rarely crossed his mind.
But while outwardly there was no change, inwardly there was a distinct evolution. He found himself unconsciously viewing life from a different standpoint. It was easy to laugh at the claims of priests and prelates, and to poke fun at musty and worn-out creeds. Easy to riddle with merciless logic the stupendous dogmas of the Churches, and the monumental follies of so-called theologians, but when all that had been done to his complete satisfaction, he was no nearer the solution of the riddle of life. ”

“ It was a warm, drowsy afternoon. The wind slept, and a soft impalpable haze imparted a new mystery to the sea. The tide was coming in slowly and imperceptibly, and rippling like silver bells on the shingly beach. The distant landscape was an impressionist picture in which all the sharp outlines melted into space. The sunshine filtered through a veil of gauze. [Pg 32] Half-way to Penwith Cove he sat down on a ledge of rock on the very edge of the cliff, and looked seaward. He saw nothing distinctly, heard no song of the sea. He was too intent on the problem that was baffling his brain. ”

“ He was conscious, too, of a new and terrible hunger that was steadily growing upon him—a hunger for companionship, for sympathy, for love. The coming of Madeline had changed his life, changed his outlook, changed the very centre of gravity. Nothing seemed exactly the same as it did before. Even death had changed its face, and the possibility of a life beyond forced itself upon his brain with a new insistence.
[Pg 113]
To win success had been his ambition—the one dream of his life. The only immortality he desired was to live in a beneficent invention he had wrought out. ”

“ You seemed wonderfully pleased with the idea when you first came to Trewinion; and, after all, it is no small thing to marry a man with Gervase's prospects."
"Marriage is a serious thing, Beryl," Madeline said, gently. "When I met Gervase first I was only a school girl. I did not know my own mind. I own he attracted me greatly, and all the time he was away I cherished, and almost worshipped, an ideal——"
"But surely Gervase has realised your ideal?" Beryl questioned. "He may not be as handsome as some men, but think how brave he is, how self-sacrificing, how devoted! ”

“ Had faith no place in the eternal and immeasurable scheme.
If science could not prove, if philosophy halted and broke down, was there nothing left? Was religion a thing to be dismissed with a sneer? Might not faith be as truly a faculty of the human soul as reason?
So all unconsciously he retraced his steps from the barren realm of negation to the region of inquiry. He ceased to be dogmatic. Materialism did not explain everything. Theology, like other sciences, might be empirical, and yet its groundwork and framework might still be truth. ”

“ Moreover, the possibility of a conscious existence beyond the shadow of death had been looming larger and larger for months past, and with that possibility other possibilities had come into view. What if the consequences of conduct followed men into the unseen? What if sin should separate a soul from the soul it loved? What if this life were a trust for which we should be held responsible? What if suicide should be as heinous a crime as murder? What if dying by one's own hand should stain the soul with deeper dishonour than any broken vow or unfulfilled promise? ”

“ They would not settle down in a sleepy place like St. Gaved. They would have a town house, and perhaps a shooting-box in Scotland, and when tired of the United Kingdom they would travel on the Continent—Paris, Vienna, Monte Carlo, Florence, were delightful places to visit, and to tarry in for a few weeks or months. The common work-a-day world might roar and fret and toil and perspire, but they would live in a serener atmosphere, undisturbed by the jar and strife that went on around them. ”