Idolatry: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

BEFORE SUNDOWN.

If Balder Helwyse had been in a vein for self-criticism at this
juncture, the review might probably have dissatisfied him. He
possessed qualities which make men great. He could have discharged
august offices, for he saw things in large relations and yet minutely.
His mind and courage could rise to any enterprise, and carry it with
ease and cheerfully. His nature was even more receptive than active.
He had force of thought to electrify nations.

But his was the old story of the star-gazer walking into the well, who
might have studied the stars in the well, but could not be warned of
the well by the stars. He had whistled grand chances down the wind,
reaching after what was superhuman. His hunger had been vast, but the
food wherewith he had filled himself nourished him not, and suddenly
he had collapsed. His first actual step towards realizing his lofty
aspirations had landed him low amongst earth's common criminals,--nor
had the harm stopped there. That defiant impulse to which he had just
now been on the point of yielding had not dared so much as to have
shown its face before his unvitiated will. He was disorganized and at
the mercy of events, because without law sufficient to keep and guide
himself.

Though fallen, there was in him somewhat giant-like, perhaps easier to
see now than before,--as the ruin seems vaster than the perfect
building. The travail of a soul like Balder's must issue greatly,
whether for good or ill. He could not remain long inchoate, but the
elements would combine to make something either darker or fairer than
had been before. Meanwhile, in the uncrystallized solution the curious
analyst might detect traits bright or sinister, ordinarily invisible.
Here were softness, impetuosity, romantic imagination, and tender
fire, enough to set up half a dozen poets. Again, there was a fund of
malignity, coldness, and subtlety adequate to the making an Iago.
Here, too, were the clear sceptical intellect, the fertility and
versatile power of brain, which only the loftier minds of the world
have shown.

Such seemingly incongruous qualities are, in the human crucible, so
mingled, proportioned, and refined, as to form a seeming simple and
transparent whole. We may feel the presence of a spirit weighty,
strong, deep, without understanding the how and why of impression.
Only at critical moments, such as this in Balder's life, can we point
out the joining lines.

Balder's present attitude, viewed from whatever side, was no less
irksome than ignoble. One misfortune was with diabolic ingenuity
dovetailed into another. It was bad enough to have killed a man; but
the victim was his own uncle, and the father--at least the
foster-father--of Gnulemah. And she, forsooth, must idolize the
murderer; and, finally, his heart must leap forth in passionate
response to hers at the moment--partly perhaps for the reason--that
every honest motive forbade it. That look and touch, at the molten
point of various emotions, had welded their spirits together at once
and lastingly.

What next? For Gnulemah and for himself what course was least
disastrous?--the heroic line,--to leave her without a word?--or,
concealing what he was, should he stay and be happy in her arms? Was
there a third alternative?

"To part would be yet worse for her than for me. She would think I had
deceived her. And, love apart, how can I leave her whose only
protector I have killed? That deed puts me in his place; so love and
duty are at one for once. Her Balder,--her God,--she calls me. She is
my universe; the depth and limit of my knowledge and power are gauged
by her. Such is the issue of my aspirations!"

He breathed out a half-laugh, ending in a sigh. "But loving her is
sweeter than to inform creation!" he added, aloud.

The crocodile made no reply. Balder went on, fingering the telltale
ring and talking with himself; the earth, meanwhile, slowly turning
her warm shoulder to the western sun. A still half-light filled the
conservatory as with a clear mellow liquor, and the rich leaves, and
blossoms stood breathless with delight. The painfully rigid
contraction of Balder's features was softening away; he was coming
into harmony with the sensuous beauty of the scene, or its refined
voluptuousness--serene, unambitious, content with time and careless of
eternity--interpreted his altered temper.

Be happy in the sunlight, O men and women! Love and kiss,--bow down
and worship each the other! Who can tell of another joy like this?
Everlasting knows it not, for only the flavor of death can give it
perfection! Save for the foreshadow of midnight, noonday were not
beautiful. But when night comes, sink ye in one another's arms, and
sleep! Heaven on earth is a richer, stronger draught than Heaven; but
pray that in vouchsafing death, it cheat ye not of annihilation!

He had forgotten that there was anything ugly in the world, or that
the blindest cannot always escape the Gorgon. He recked not the risk
of bringing a being such as Gnulemah face to face with modern life,
nor bethought him that the secret in his heart would still be nearer
it than love could come. Neither, during this fortunate moment, did
fear of discovery harass him.

Oddly, too, it was not to domestic comforts,--the love of wife,
children, and friends,--nor yet to the absorbing duties of a
profession, that Balder looked for a shield against inward trouble.
Hope held him no more than fear; his happiness must consist in freedom
from both. He thought only of the Gnulemah of to-day,--unique,
beautiful, untamed, divinely ignorant; but whose heart walked before,
leading the giddy mind by paths the wisest dared not tempt. The sounds
of her voice, the shiftings of her expression, her look, her
touch,--he recalled them all. He centred time and space in her.
Change, new conditions, succession of events,--these came not near
her. Their life should know neither past nor future, but abide a
constant Now,--until the end!

His lips followed his thought with soundless movement. Handsome lips
they were,--the under, full, but sharply defined from the
bulwark-chin; the upper, slender, boldly curved, firm, yet
sensitive;--the mouth was a compendium of the man's physical nature.
His eyes, large and almost as dark as Gnulemah's, albeit far different
in effect,--were now in-looking; the pupils, always extraordinarily
large and brilliant, almost filled the space between the eyelids. His
hair clung round his head in yellow curls; the dark dense eyebrows
arched at ease. With velvet doublet and well-moulded limbs, in the
enchanted evening-glow, he looked the ideal fairy prince,--noble,
wise, and valiant; conquering fate for love's sake. They were brave
princes,--they of old time. But one wonders whether the giants and
enchanters, nowadays, are not stronger and subtler than they used to
be!

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