_CHAPTER EIGHTEEN_
Glani waited in the patio for the reappearance of the master, and asConnor paced with short, nervous steps on the grass at every turn hecaught the flash of the sun on the stallion. Above his selfish greed hehad one honest desire: he would have paid with blood to see the greathorse face the barrier. That, however was beyond the reach of hisambition, and therefore the beauty of Glani was always a hopelesstorment.
The quiet in the patio oddly increased his excitement. It was one ofthose bright, still days when the wind stirs only in soft breaths,bringing a sense of the open sky. Sometimes the breeze picked up ahandful of drops from the fountain and showered it with a cool rustlingon the grass. Sometimes it flared the tail of Glani; sometimes theshadow of the great eucalyptus which stood west of the house quivered onthe turf.
Connor found himself looking minutely at trivial things, and in themeantime David Eden in his room was deciding the fate of the Americanturf. Even Glani seemed to know, for his glance never stirred from thedoor through which the master had disappeared. What a horse the bigfellow was! He thought of the stallion in the paddock at the track. Heheard the thousands swarm and the murmur which comes deep out of a man'sthroat when he sees a great horse.
The palms of Connor were wet with sweat. He kept rubbing them dry on thehips of his trousers. Rehearsing his talk with David, he saw a thousandflaws, and a thousand openings which he had missed. Then all thoughtstopped; David had come out into the patio.
He came straight to Connor, smiling, and he said:
"The words were a temptation, but the mind that conceived them was notthe mind of a tempter."
Ineffable assurance and good will shone in his face, and Connor cursedhim silently.
"I, leaving the valley, might be lost in the torrent. And neither theworld nor I should profit. But if I stay here, at least one soul issaved to God."
"Your own?" muttered Connor. But he managed to smile above his rage."And after you," he concluded, "what of the horses, David?"
"My sons shall have them."
"And if you have no sons?"
"Before my death I shall kill all of the horses. They are not meant forother men than the sons of David."
The gambler drew off his hat and raised his face to the sky, askingmutely if Heaven would permit this crime.
"Yet," said David, "I forgive you."
"You forgive me?" echoed Connor through his teeth.
"Yes, for the fire of the temptation has burned out. Let us forget theworld beyond the mountains."
"What is your proof that you are right in staying here?"
"The voice of God."
"You have spoken to Him, perhaps?"
The irony passed harmless by the raised head of David.
"I have spoken to Him," he asserted calmly.
"I see," nodded the gambler. "You keep Him in that room, no doubt?"
"It is true. His spirit is in the Room of Silence."
"You've seen His face?"
A numbness fell on the mind of Connor as he saw his hopes destroyed bythe demon of bigotry.
"Only His voice has come to me," said David.
"It speaks to you?"
"Yes."
Connor stared in actual alarm, for this was insanity.
"The four," said David, "spoke to Him always in that room. He is there.And when Matthew died he gave me this assurance--that while the walls ofthis house stood together God would not desert me or fail to come to mein that room until I love another thing more than I love God."
"And how, David, do you hear the voice? For while you were there I wasin the patio, close by, and yet I heard no whisper of a sound from theroom."
"I shall tell you. When I entered the Room of Silence just now yourwords had set me on fire. My mind was hot with desire of power overother men. I forgot the palace you built for me with your promises. Andthen I knew that it had been a temptation to sin from which the voicewas freeing me.
"Could a human voice have spoken more clearly than that voice spoke tomy heart? Anxiously I called before my eyes the image of Benjamin to askfor His judgment, but your face remained an unclouded vision and was notdimmed by the will of the Lord as He dims creatures of evil in the Roomof Silence. Thereby I knew that you are indeed my brother."
The brain of Connor groped slowly in the rear of these words. He was toostunned by disappointment to think clearly, but vaguely he made out thatDavid had dismissed the argument and was now asking him to come for awalk by the lake.
"The lake's well enough," he answered, "but it occurs to me that I'vegot to get on with my journey."
"You must leave me?"
There was such real anxiety in his voice that Connor softened a little.
"I've got a lot to do," he explained. "I only stopped over to rest mynags, in the first place. Then this other idea came along, but since thevoice has rapped it there's nothing for me to do but to get on my wayagain."
"It is a long trip?"
"Long enough."
"The Garden of Eden is a lonely place."
"You'll have the voice to cheer you up."
"The voice is an awful thing. There is no companionship in it. Thisthought comes to me. Leave the mule and the horse. Take Shakra. She willcarry you swiftly and safely over the mountains and bring you backagain. And I shall be happy to know that she is with you while you areaway. Then go, brother, if you must, and return in haste."
It was the opening of the gates of heaven to Connor at the very momentwhen he had surrendered the last hope. He heard David call the servants,heard an order to bring Shakra saddled at once. The canteen was beingfilled for the journey. Into the incredulous mind of the gambler thetruth filtered by degrees, as candlelight probes a room full oftreasure, flashing ever and anon into new corners filled withundiscovered riches.
Shakra was his to ride over the mountains. And why stop there? There wasno mark on her, and his brand would make her his. She would be safe inan Eastern racing stable before they even dreamed of pursuit. And whenher victories on the track had built his fortune he could return her,and raise a breed of peerless horses. A theft? Yes, but so was thestealing of the fire from heaven for the use of mankind.
He would have been glad to leave the Garden of Eden at once, but thatwas not in David's scheme of things. To him a departure into the worldbeyond the mountains was as a voyage into an uncharted sea. His dignitykept him from asking questions, but it was obvious that he was painfullyanxious to learn the necessity of Connor's going.
That night in the patio he held forth at length of the things they woulddo together when the gambler returned. "The Garden is a book," heexplained. "And I must teach you to turn the pages and read in them."
There was little sleep for Connor that night. He lay awake, turning overthe possibilities of a last minute failure, and when he finally droppedinto a deep, aching slumber it was to be awakened almost at once by thevoice of David calling in the patio. He wakened and found it was thepink of the dawn.
"Shakra waits at the gate of the patio. Start early, Benjamin, andthereby you will return soon."
It brought Connor to his feet with a leap. As if he required urging!Through the hasty breakfast he could not retain his joyous laughteruntil he saw David growing thoughtful. But that breakfast was over, andDavid's kind solicitations, at length. Shakra was brought to him; hisfeet were settled into the stirrups, and the dream changed to a sense ofthe glorious reality. She was his--Shakra!
"A journey of happiness for your sake and a speed for mine, Benjamin."
Connor looked down for the last time into the face of the master of theGarden, half wild and half calm--the face of a savage with the mind of aman behind it. "If he should take my trail!" he thought with horror.
"Good-by!" he called aloud, and in a burst of joy and suddencompunction, "God bless you, David!"
"He has blessed me already, for He has given to me a friend."
A touch of the rope--for no Eden Gray would endure a bit--whirled Shakraand sent her down the
terraces like the wind. The avenue of theeucalyptus trees poured behind them, and out of this, with astonishingsuddenness, they reached the gate.
The fire already burned, for the night was hardly past, and Josephsquatted with the thin smoke blowing across his face unheeded. He wasgrinning with savage hatred and muttering.
Connor knew what profound curse was being called down upon his head, buthe had only a careless glance for Joseph. His eye up yonder where thefull morning shone on the mountains, his mind was out in the world, atthe race track, seeing in prospect beautiful Shakra fleeing away fromthe finest of the thoroughbreds. And he saw the face of Ruth, as hereyes would light at the sight of Shakra. He could have burst into song.
Connor looking forward, high-headed, threw up his arm with a low shout,and Shakra burst into full gallop down the ravine.