A Trip to Venus: A Novel by John Munro (best feel good books .txt) 📗

world—the strong and the weak—the rich and the poor—the happy and the miserable."

"But do the good not help the bad?"

"Yes, to a certain extent; but life is a struggle there; every man for himself; and the good very often find it hard to secure a little happiness for themselves."

"How can they be happy when they know that others are suffering and in want, that others are bad? I long to go and help them."

"Darling, you are an angel, and I adore you; but, believe me, you alone could do very little. One has already come and taught us how to love and cherish each other, that the strong should help the weak, the rich give to the poor, and the happy comfort the wretched. His followers believe that He came from Heaven, and yet after nineteen hundred years I am afraid that some of them do not fully understand the plain meaning of His words, or else find it convenient to ignore them."

"But many of us will go there. We will bring the sinful and the suffering over here to Womla and make them happy."

"I am touched by your simple faith in us, dearest It does you honour, but I fear it is mistaken. What would you say if the very people you had saved and befriended were to turn round and take your country from you, perhaps even destroy you? Such ingratitude is not unknown in our world."

"If they are so wicked they have the more need of help."

"In any case, darling, I cannot take you with me, for the vessel we came in is too small; but I will come back as soon as possible and stay with you in Womla. How happy we shall be!"

"In Womla—no. We should not be quite at rest."

"Then we shall seek out some desert star where we can live only for each other."

"You do not understand me. Neither in Womla nor in a desert star could we be happy in a selfish love, knowing that others were in pain."

"Better I had not spoken of my world at all."

"No, a thousand times no!" cried Alumion with fervour. "For you have opened up to me a new source of happiness—of blessedness which I have never known before. Only let us go together to your world and minister to the unfortunate."

"Well, darling, we will think of it; but see! the sun has set and you are free again. I came to marry you, but since I must return so soon to my own world, perhaps it would be well to postpone the ceremony until I come back here."

"Why should we do that?"

Evidently she had no idea of the dangers of the journey, or how long it would take.

"If anything should happen to me. If I should die and never return."

"Ah! do not speak of that. The Giver will preserve you."

"But life is uncertain."

"Beloved, I shall never love another but you; therefore, let us unite ourselves, as we are already united in heart and soul, henceforth and forever. Come!"

With these words she turned and glided towards the sacred grotto. I held aside the flowering creeper which hung over the entrance like a curtain, and followed her within. To my great surprise the interior was neither dark nor dusky, but filled with a soft and luscious light from myriads of glow-worms and fire-flies of various colours, which glimmered on the walls like tiny electric lamps, or sparkled in the facets of the gems and spars depending from the roof. Judging by their shape and tint I imagine that some of these incrustations are native crystals of the diamond and ruby, the sapphire, topaz, and emerald. In a deep recess or alcove on one side a spring of clear water gushed from the rock into a natural basin of sinter, enamelled inside and out with the precious opal. Owing perhaps to the minerals through which it had passed the liquid shed a delicious perfume in the air, and made a bath fit for the goddess of beauty.

I had scarcely time to look about me when a strange and wonderful melody of most entrancing sweetness echoed through the cavern.

"Siloo, Siloo!" cried Alumion softly, and the music, which I cannot compare to any earthly strain, ceased in a moment. Presently I was more than startled to see in the gloomier background of the cavern a great white serpent glide like a ghost along the floor and come straight towards us. His milk-white body was speckled all over with jewelled scales, and shone with a pale blue phosphorescence; his eyes blazed in his head like twin carbuncles, and in spite of my instinctive dread of snakes, I could not help admiring his repulsive beauty. Presently he reared his long neck, and faced us with his forked tongue playing out and in. I shrank back, for I thought he was about to spring upon me; but Alumion, laughing gaily at my fears, stepped quickly up to him, and stroked him with her hand. The serpent laid his head caressingly upon her shoulder and emitted a low faint note of pleasure.

Alumion then took a shallow dish or patera, and, filling it from a vase which she carried with her set it upon the floor for the snake to feed.

"You don't seem to be afraid of that gruesome reptile," said I pleasantly.

"Oh, no," she replied smiling. "Siloo knows me very well."

"Tell me, was it he who made the music a little while ago?"

"Yes, and also the noise which alarmed you the first night you wandered here. The music comes from his head, and the noise is from his tail. That is why we call him Siloo."

The word, as nearly as I can translate it, means harmony, order, measure, proportion, in the Womla tongue.

"Does he always live in this cave?"

"Yes, he is a sacred animal with us, and long ago was worshipped and consulted by our forefathers, and those who preceded them in the island."

"Is he very old?"

"None can tell how old. Some say he is immortal. Others think he is only the offspring of the snake worshipped by our forefathers. He is guardian of the sacred fountain whose waters we are about to drink."

When she had spoken, Alumion tripped to the flowing spring, and, taking a cup which was standing on the edge of the basin, filled it from the pellucid stream.

"Give me your hand," she murmured, holding out her own, and lifting her celestial eyes, so full of love and tenderness, to mine. It was a dainty hand, plump, lilywhite, and dimpled, with tapering fingers; and as I felt her warm and silk-soft touch for the first time, my soul melted within me, and my whole being thrilled with delight. Her rosy lips parted with pleasure, and a delicate blush mantled her blooming cheeks and full white throat.

I gazed in rapture on her divine countenance, so like a speaking flower, the image of a beautiful soul on which neither sorrow, care, nor passion had ever left a trace.

She raised the cup, and having sipped of the water, handed it to me in silence. I sought the place where her lips had touched the brim and drank. Now whether it was phantasy or some foreign ingredient I cannot tell, but the water seemed to taste like nectar, and to run through all my veins like wine.

The glamour of the lights and the perfume of the waters wrought upon my senses, and, yielding to the intoxication of my love, I caught Alumion to my arms.

Suddenly the most appalling noise rent the air, and caused me to spring back from my bride in terror. It came from the rattlesnake. His grisly body swayed to and fro, his gaping mouth displayed all its horrid fangs, and his large eyes burned like two red-hot coals.

"Siloo, Siloo!" cried Alumion hastily in a tone of command. "Down, Siloo!"

The serpent at once obeyed her voice and retired again to his dish.

"He thought I was going to harm you," I exclaimed, not without a sense of relief. "Or perhaps he was jealous of me."

"Remember this is holy ground," responded Alumion.

"Forgive me," I said, feeling her reproof. "My love—your beauty—must be my excuse."

"We must part now," she continued, with a blinding glance and a ravishing smile. "I have some last offices to perform here. We shall meet to-morrow at my father's house."

On my way home the blood coursed through my veins like an immortal ichor of the gods, full of sweet and inextinguishable fire. Inebriated with the cup of bliss which I had only tasted, I began to repent me of my promise to leave Womla.

"To-morrow Alumion will be mine," I reflected, "but for how long? A few days at the most. It is too bad!"

An idea struck me.

"Gazen," said I that night as soon as I had a convenient opportunity to speak with him, "I have married Alumion."

"Married her!" he exclaimed, completely taken aback.

"Yes, that is to say, I have gone through the formal ceremony of marriage. I have drunk of the cup."

"But you promised me you would do nothing of the kind."

"I said I would go back to the earth with you, and I will keep my word. But I must say that since I agreed to your wishes in the matter, I think you owe me some concession, and I want you to leave me in Womla while you go on to Mercury, and then come back here to pick me up. That will give me a longer honeymoon."

"Impossible, my dear fellow—quite impossible," replied the professor. "Venus will be too far out of our way home. We have no oxygen to waste, and can't go hunting you in your love affairs all round the solar system."

"Very well, then, I shall stay behind."

"But, my dear fellow—"

"Say no more about it. I have made up my mind."

CHAPTER XI. THE FLYING APE.

It was broad day when I awoke, and oppressively warm in the little cabin. My first thoughts were of Alumion, the consecration of our loves, and my resolution to abide in Venus. In getting up I felt so light and buoyant that for a moment I fancied I must be giddy, but on reflection I ascribed the sensation to the intoxication of passion, and the exhilarating atmosphere of the planet. I looked out of a window towards the blessed island of my dreams, and to my blank amazement found that it was gone! I could neither see anything of the lake, the square, nor the town, but only a bare and rugged platform of weathered rocks, and the cloudy sky above it.

What was the matter? Had Gazen and Carmichael taken it into their heads to make an excursion, such as we had often planned, in order to observe something more of the country? Yes, that was it, no doubt.

Under the circumstances I was far from pleased with them for having carried me off without asking my leave, knowing as they should have done, that I would be eager to rejoin Alumion; but experience of travel had taught me that a man must not expect to have it all his own way, and should know when to let his companions have theirs, and above all things to keep his temper. I, therefore, decided to take their behaviour in good part, more especially as we could always return to the capital as quickly as we had come from it.

Apparently there was nobody in the car but myself. Wondering, and perhaps a trifle uneasy at the dead stillness, I dressed rapidly and went outside.

The welkin was wholly overcast with dense, murky vapours, which totally hid the sun, and the air was excessively hot, moist, and sultry as before a thunderstorm—an unusual phenomenon in Womla. Black boulders and crags, speckled with lichens, and carpeted with coarse herbage, shut out the prospect on every side but one, where the edge of the platform on which the car was resting ran along the sky. I saw it all now. Gazen and Carmichael had made a journey to the extreme verge of the country; to the very summit of the precipice which surrounded the Crater Land.

Picking my steps over the rough rocks like one who treads on air, I hastened to the brink of the platform. If the car were on the further side of the summit I should be able to see the wide ocean, but if, as I fondly hoped, it were on the hither side, I should enjoy a far-off glimpse of the city and its holy island, which had become a heaven to me. How different was the scene which met my view!

I was looking away over a vast plain towards a distant range of volcanic mountains. A broad river wound through the midst between isolated volcanoes, curling with smoke, and thick forests of a sable hue, or expanded