CHAPTER IV. SOMEWHERE OR NOWHERE?
The sun was very bright, but I doubted if the day would long be fine,and looked into the milky sapphire I wore, to see whether the star in itwas clear. It was even less defined than I had expected. I rose from thebreakfast-table, and went to the window to glance at the stone again.There had been heavy rain in the night, and on the lawn was a thrushbreaking his way into the shell of a snail.
As I was turning my ring about to catch the response of the star to thesun, I spied a keen black eye gazing at me out of the milky misty blue.The sight startled me so that I dropped the ring, and when I picked itup the eye was gone from it. The same moment the sun was obscured;a dark vapour covered him, and in a minute or two the whole sky wasclouded. The air had grown sultry, and a gust of wind came suddenly.A moment more and there was a flash of lightning, with a single sharpthunder-clap. Then the rain fell in torrents.
I had opened the window, and stood there looking out at the precipitousrain, when I descried a raven walking toward me over the grass, withsolemn gait, and utter disregard of the falling deluge. Suspecting whohe was, I congratulated myself that I was safe on the ground-floor. Atthe same time I had a conviction that, if I were not careful, somethingwould happen.
He came nearer and nearer, made a profound bow, and with a sudden wingedleap stood on the window-sill. Then he stepped over the ledge, jumpeddown into the room, and walked to the door. I thought he was on his wayto the library, and followed him, determined, if he went up the stair,not to take one step after him. He turned, however, neither toward thelibrary nor the stair, but to a little door that gave upon a grass-patchin a nook between two portions of the rambling old house. I made hasteto open it for him. He stepped out into its creeper-covered porch, andstood looking at the rain, which fell like a huge thin cataract; I stoodin the door behind him. The second flash came, and was followed by alengthened roll of more distant thunder. He turned his head over hisshoulder and looked at me, as much as to say, "You hear that?" thenswivelled it round again, and anew contemplated the weather, apparentlywith approbation. So human were his pose and carriage and the way hekept turning his head, that I remarked almost involuntarily,
"Fine weather for the worms, Mr. Raven!"
"Yes," he answered, in the rather croaky voice I had learned to know,"the ground will be nice for them to get out and in!--It must be agrand time on the steppes of Uranus!" he added, with a glance upward; "Ibelieve it is raining there too; it was, all the last week!"
"Why should that make it a grand time?" I asked.
"Because the animals there are all burrowers," he answered, "--like thefield-mice and the moles here.--They will be, for ages to come."
"How do you know that, if I may be so bold?" I rejoined.
"As any one would who had been there to see," he replied. "It is a greatsight, until you get used to it, when the earth gives a heave, andout comes a beast. You might think it a hairy elephant or adeinotherium--but none of the animals are the same as we have everhad here. I was almost frightened myself the first time I saw thedry-bog-serpent come wallowing out--such a head and mane! and SUCHeyes!--but the shower is nearly over. It will stop directly after thenext thunder-clap. There it is!"
A flash came with the words, and in about half a minute the thunder.Then the rain ceased.
"Now we should be going!" said the raven, and stepped to the front ofthe porch.
"Going where?" I asked.
"Going where we have to go," he answered. "You did not surely think youhad got home? I told you there was no going out and in at pleasure untilyou were at home!"
"I do not want to go," I said.
"That does not make any difference--at least not much," he answered."This is the way!"
"I am quite content where I am."
"You think so, but you are not. Come along."
He hopped from the porch onto the grass, and turned, waiting.
"I will not leave the house to-day," I said with obstinacy.
"You will come into the garden!" rejoined the raven.
"I give in so far," I replied, and stepped from the porch.
The sun broke through the clouds, and the raindrops flashed and sparkledon the grass. The raven was walking over it.
"You will wet your feet!" I cried.
"And mire my beak," he answered, immediately plunging it deep in thesod, and drawing out a great wriggling red worm. He threw back his head,and tossed it in the air. It spread great wings, gorgeous in red andblack, and soared aloft.
"Tut! tut!" I exclaimed; "you mistake, Mr. Raven: worms are not thelarvae of butterflies!"
"Never mind," he croaked; "it will do for once! I'm not a reading manat present, but sexton at the--at a certain graveyard--cemetery, moreproperly--in--at--no matter where!"
"I see! you can't keep your spade still: and when you have nothing tobury, you must dig something up! Only you should mind what it is beforeyou make it fly! No creature should be allowed to forget what and whereit came from!"
"Why?" said the raven.
"Because it will grow proud, and cease to recognise its superiors."
No man knows it when he is making an idiot of himself.
"Where DO the worms come from?" said the raven, as if suddenly growncurious to know.
"Why, from the earth, as you have just seen!" I answered.
"Yes, last!" he replied. "But they can't have come from it first--forthat will never go back to it!" he added, looking up.
I looked up also, but could see nothing save a little dark cloud, theedges of which were red, as if with the light of the sunset.
"Surely the sun is not going down!" I exclaimed, struck with amazement.
"Oh, no!" returned the raven. "That red belongs to the worm."
"You see what comes of making creatures forget their origin!" I criedwith some warmth.
"It is well, surely, if it be to rise higher and grow larger!" hereturned. "But indeed I only teach them to find it!"
"Would you have the air full of worms?"
"That is the business of a sexton. If only the rest of the clergyunderstood it as well!"
In went his beak again through the soft turf, and out came the wrigglingworm. He tossed it in the air, and away it flew.
I looked behind me, and gave a cry of dismay: I had but that momentdeclared I would not leave the house, and already I was a stranger inthe strange land!
"What right have you to treat me so, Mr. Raven?" I said with deepoffence. "Am I, or am I not, a free agent?"
"A man is as free as he chooses to make himself, never an atom freer,"answered the raven.
"You have no right to make me do things against my will!"
"When you have a will, you will find that no one can."
"You wrong me in the very essence of my individuality!" I persisted.
"If you were an individual I could not, therefore now I do not. You arebut beginning to become an individual."
All about me was a pine-forest, in which my eyes were already searchingdeep, in the hope of discovering an unaccountable glimmer, and sofinding my way home. But, alas! how could I any longer call that houseHOME, where every door, every window opened into OUT, and even thegarden I could not keep inside!
I suppose I looked discomfited.
"Perhaps it may comfort you," said the raven, "to be told that you havenot yet left your house, neither has your house left you. At the sametime it cannot contain you, or you inhabit it!"
"I do not understand you," I replied. "Where am I?"
"In the region of the seven dimensions," he answered, with a curiousnoise in his throat, and a flutter of his tail. "You had better followme carefully now for a moment, lest you should hurt some one!"
"There is nobody to hurt but yourself, Mr. Raven! I confess I shouldrather like to hurt you!"
"That you see nobody is where the danger lies. But you see that largetree to your left, about thirty yards away?"
"Of course I do: why should I not?" I answered testily.
"Ten minutes ago you did not see it, and now you do not know where itstands!"
"I do."
"Where do you think it stands?"
"Why THERE, where you know it is!"
"Where is THERE?"
"You bother me with your silly questions!" I cried. "I am growing tiredof you!"
"That tree stands on the hearth of your kitchen, and grows nearlystraight up its chimney," he said.
"Now I KNOW you are making game of me!" I answered, with a laugh ofscorn.
"Was I making game of you when you discovered me looking out of yourstar-sapphire yesterday?"
"That was this morning--not an hour ago!"
"I have been widening your horizon longer than that, Mr. Vane; but nevermind!"
"You mean you have been making a fool of me!" I said, turning from him.
"Excuse me: no one can do that but yourself!"
"And I decline to do it."
"You mistake."
"How?"
"In declining to acknowledge yourself one already. You make yourselfsuch by refusing what is true, and for that you will sorely punishyourself."
"How, again?"
"By believing what is not true."
"Then, if I walk to the other side of that tree, I shall walk throughthe kitchen fire?"
"Certainly. You would first, however, walk through the lady at the pianoin the breakfast-room. That rosebush is close by her. You would give hera terrible start!"
"There is no lady in the house!"
"Indeed! Is not your housekeeper a lady? She is counted such in acertain country where all are servants, and the liveries one andmultitudinous!"
"She cannot use the piano, anyhow!"
"Her niece can: she is there--a well-educated girl and a capitalmusician."
"Excuse me; I cannot help it: you seem to me to be talking sheernonsense!"
"If you could but hear the music! Those great long heads of wildhyacinth are inside the piano, among the strings of it, and give thatpeculiar sweetness to her playing!--Pardon me: I forgot your deafness!"
"Two objects," I said, "cannot exist in the same place at the sametime!"
"Can they not? I did not know!--I remember now they do teach that withyou. It is a great mistake--one of the greatest ever wiseacre made! Noman of the universe, only a man of the world could have said so!"
"You a librarian, and talk such rubbish!" I cried. "Plainly, you did notread many of the books in your charge!"
"Oh, yes! I went through all in your library--at the time, and came outat the other side not much the wiser. I was a bookworm then, but when Icame to know it, I woke among the butterflies. To be sure I have givenup reading for a good many years--ever since I was made sexton.--There!I smell Grieg's Wedding March in the quiver of those rose-petals!"
I went to the rose-bush and listened hard, but could not hear thethinnest ghost of a sound; I only smelt something I had never beforesmelt in any rose. It was still rose-odour, but with a difference,caused, I suppose, by the Wedding March.
When I looked up, there was the bird by my side.
"Mr. Raven," I said, "forgive me for being so rude: I was irritated.Will you kindly show me my way home? I must go, for I have anappointment with my bailiff. One must not break faith with hisservants!"
"You cannot break what was broken days ago!" he answered.
"Do show me the way," I pleaded.
"I cannot," he returned. "To go back, you must go through yourself, andthat way no man can show another."
Entreaty was vain. I must accept my fate! But how was life to be livedin a world of which I had all the laws to learn? There would, however,be adventure! that held consolation; and whether I found my way home ornot, I should at least have the rare advantage of knowing two worlds!
I had never yet done anything to justify my existence; my former worldwas nothing the better for my sojourn in it: here, however, I must earn,or in some way find, my bread! But I reasoned that, as I was not toblame in being here, I might expect to be taken care of here as well asthere! I had had nothing to do with getting into the world I had justleft, and in it I had found myself heir to a large property! If thatworld, as I now saw, had a claim upon me because I had eaten, and couldeat again, upon this world I had a claim because I must eat--when itwould in return have a claim on me!
"There is no hurry," said the raven, who stood regarding me; "we do notgo much by the clock here. Still, the sooner one begins to do what hasto be done, the better! I will take you to my wife."
"Thank you. Let us go!" I answered, and immediately he led the way.