A Voyage to Arcturus - David Lindsay (list of e readers .TXT) 📗

you to go. I will take him over myself.”

“No, you have always put me off,” said Gleameil, with some emotion. “This time I mean to go. When Teargeld shines at night, and I sit on the shore here, listening to Earthrid’s music travelling faintly across the sea, I am tortured⁠—I can’t endure it.⁠ ⁠… I have long since made up my mind to go to the island, and see what this music is. If it’s bad, if it kills me⁠—well.”

“What have I to do with the man and his music, Gleameil?” demanded Maskull.

“I think the music will answer all your questions better than Polecrab has done⁠—and possibly in a way that will surprise you.”

“What kind of music can it be to travel all those miles across the sea?”

“A peculiar kind, so we are told. Not pleasant, but painful. And the man that can play the instrument of Earthrid would be able to conjure up the most astonishing forms, which are not phantasms, but realities.”

“That may be so,” growled Polecrab. “But I have been to the island by daylight, and what did I find there? Human bones, new and ancient. Those are Earthrid’s victims. And you, wife, shall not go.”

“But will that music play tonight?” asked Maskull.

“Yes,” replied Gleameil, gazing at him intently. “When Teargeld rises, which is our moon.”

“If Earthrid plays men to death, it appears to me that his own death is due. In any case I should like to hear those sounds for myself. But as for taking you with me, Gleameil⁠—women die too easily in Tormance. I have only just now washed myself clean of the death blood of another woman.”

Gleameil laughed, but said nothing.

“Now go to sleep,” said Polecrab. “When the time comes, I will take you across myself.”

He lay down again, and closed his eyes. Maskull followed his example; but Gleameil remained sitting erect, with her legs under her.

“Who was that other woman, Maskull?” she asked presently.

He did not answer, but pretended to sleep.

XV Swalone’s Island

When he awoke, the day was not so bright, and he guessed it was late afternoon. Polecrab and his wife were both on their feet, and another meal of fish had been cooked and was waiting for him.

“Is it decided who is to go with me?” he asked, before sitting down.

“I go,” said Gleameil.

“Do you agree, Polecrab?”

The fisherman growled a little in his throat and motioned to the others to take their seats. He took a mouthful before answering.

“Something strong is attracting her, and I can’t hold her back. I don’t think I shall see you again, wife, but the lads are now nearly old enough to fend for themselves.”

“Don’t take dejected views,” replied Gleameil sternly. She was not eating. “I shall come back, and make amends to you. It’s only for a night.”

Maskull gazed from one to the other in perplexity. “Let me go alone. I would be sorry if anything happened.”

Gleameil shook her head.

“Don’t regard this as a woman’s caprice,” she said. “Even if you hadn’t passed this way, I would have heard that music soon. I have a hunger for it.”

“Haven’t you any such feeling, Polecrab?”

“No. A woman is a noble and sensitive creature, and there are attractions in nature too subtle for males. Take her with you, since she is set on it. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps Earthrid’s music will answer your questions, and hers too.”

“What are your questions, Gleameil?”

The woman shed a strange smile. “You may be sure that a question which requires music for an answer can’t be put into words.”

“If you are not back by the morning,” remarked her husband, “I will know you are dead.”

The meal was finished in a constrained silence. Polecrab wiped his mouth, and produced a seashell from a kind of pocket.

“Will you say goodbye to the boys? Shall I call them?” She considered a moment.

“Yes⁠—yes, I must see them.”

He put the shell to his mouth, and blew; a loud, mournful noise passed through the air.

A few minutes later there was a sound of scurrying footsteps, and the boys were seen emerging from the forest. Maskull looked with curiosity at the first children he had seen on Tormance. The oldest boy was carrying the youngest on his back, while the third trotted some distance behind. The child was let down, and all the three formed a semicircle in front of Maskull, standing staring up at him with wide-open eyes. Polecrab looked on stolidly, but Gleameil glanced away from them, with proudly raised head and a baffling expression.

Maskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five years, respectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time. The eldest was tall, slim, but strongly built. He, like his brothers, was naked, and his skin from top to toe was ulfire-coloured. His facial muscles indicated a wild and daring nature, and his eyes were like green fires. The second showed promise of being a broad, powerful man. His head was large and heavy, and drooped. His face and skin were reddish. His eyes were almost too sombre and penetrating for a child’s.

“That one,” said Polecrab, pinching the boy’s ear, “may perhaps grow up to be a second Broodviol.”

“Who was that?” demanded the boy, bending his head forward to hear the answer.

“A big, old man, of marvellous wisdom. He became wise by making up his mind never to ask questions, but to find things out for himself.”

“If I had not asked this question, I should not have known about him.”

“That would not have mattered,” replied the father.

The youngest child was paler and slighter than his brothers. His face was mostly tranquil and expressionless, but it had this peculiarity about it, that every few minutes, without any apparent cause, it would wrinkle up and look perplexed. At these times his eyes, which were of a tawny gold, seemed to contain secrets difficult to associate with one of his age.

“He puzzles me,” said Polecrab. “He has a soul like sap, and he’s interested in