The Doomsman

  XXII

  YET THREE DAYS

  Esmay sat in the gardens at Arcadia House. It was the loveliest ofspring days, and there were blossoms everywhere--the vivid pink of theJudas-tree, the white glory of the dogwood, and each Forsythia bush acascade of golden foam. It was all so beautiful, and in that samemeasure it hurt so keenly. The girl flung herself face downward in thegrass, seeking to shut out from sight and hearing the world that mockedher.

  That same night Esmay went to Nanna and announced her intention ofpaying another visit to the "House of Power."

  "Our lord cannot be wholly unmindful of his children," she said, "andlight may come to us from the Shining One. Besides," and here her colordeepened, "it is where he lived, he who was my friend. If I could butfind some little thing that had been his--a glove or one of his books!Now do be a good Nanna and help me in this."

  But the practical Nanna shook her head. "That mad, old graybeard, whoconsiders it a contamination to even look upon a woman, is it likelythat he will invite you into his sanctuary and set himself to answeryour foolish questions? It is supposed to be sufficient grace for awoman if the Shining One deigns to accept the gifts that she lays uponhis altar."

  "Then we will go dressed as men. There is everything we can want in thepresses up-stairs, and I can steal the key of the wicket gate from outof Kurt's very pocket. Now, Nanna, dear----"

  And of course Nanna yielded, for she saw that her darling's heart wasset upon this thing. Quinton Edge was still absent in the _Black Swan_,and it would be an easy matter to hoodwink old Kurt; he was alwaysfuddled with ale nowadays. To-morrow would be Friday, the day of theweekly sacrifice; they could make the trial then.

  It was hard upon noon of the following day when the two women drew nearto the temple of the Shining One. Nanna, clad in doublet andsmall-clothes, swung jauntily along, one hand on dagger-hilt andcareless challenge in her snapping, black eyes, the picture of aswaggering younker. But Esmay, at the last moment, could not bringherself to don habiliments exclusively masculine. So she compromised bywearing a round jacket with a rolling collar and tucking away her hairunder a boy's cap. A long rain-coat, for which the showery morning wasan excuse, completed her outward attire and concealed her petticoatsfrom casual view. Yet in any case her blushes had been spared, for theymet nobody on their way, and the open space in front of the temple wasdeserted. Not a single worshiper had come to pay honor and tithe to theShining One; the altar was empty of offerings, and the priest himselfwas absent from his accustomed post. Yet upon the ear fell the rumbleand clang of moving machinery, and the eye, piercing through thehalf-lights of the archway, caught indefinite glimpses of the pulsingmysteries of wheel and piston-rod that lay within the shadows.

  "He must be within," said Nanna, leading the way. "Don't stumble aroundlike that. Here, take my hand."

  Prostrate in front of the switch-board they found the priest, a mereanatomy of a man, with his checks shrunken to the jaw, and his wastedlimbs no larger than those of a child. Yet he was alive and conscious,the deep-set eyes glowing with suspicious fire as they turned upon hisunexpected guests.

  "Starving," said Nanna, briefly, and proceeded to force a few drops ofwine from a pocket-flask between his lips, while Esmay ran for thebasket of food which had been brought along as an offertory in theirassumed character of worshippers. The stimulant acted powerfully, andwithin the hour Prosper was so far restored as to be able to partake ofsome solid food. Then he insisted upon getting to his feet, a gaunt andterrible figure in his rusty cassock.

  "I have my work to do," he reiterated, stubbornly. "I must be preparingthe harvest field for my lord's sickle, and already the time is ripe forhis appearing. Behold and believe!"

  With a firm step he approached the switch-board and turned one of thecontrolling levers. A flash of light, succeeded by a stream of cracklingsparks, leaped from the free end of a broken wire at the other end ofthe building, and a pile of straw lying near it burst into flame. Anexpert in electrical engineering would have understood that the brokenwire must be in proximity to a mass of metal, and that the powerfulcurrent was being visibly hurled across the gap. Esmay uttered a cry,and even Nanna shrank back. Prosper smiled.

  "Who can abide the displeasure of the Shining One? Who can stand beforethe flame of his wrath? A mighty and a terrible god, yet he would haveleft his servant to starve before his altar--you have seen that foryourselves. It is ten days now since even a woman has condescended tokneel at his shrine and make her offerings of meat and drink. I, hishigh-priest, may eat no common food, but how should the lord of heavenand earth keep such trivial circumstances in mind? He had forgotten, andso I must have died but for your opportune coming and pious gifts.

  "One might argue that our lord employed you as the instruments of mydeliverance," continued the priest, musingly. "I might think it, butthat I know the Shining One of old. It is his pleasure to punish, not tohelp; to slay and not to make alive. Never has he given aught of graceto me who have served him faithfully for these threescore years. Andto-day, if I should sit with him upon the death-chair, he would consumeme as utterly as though I were the foulest-mouthed blasphemer in allDoom. What think ye, in all honesty, of the Shining One? Is he a god tobe propitiated by sacrifice and offering, to be worshipped andadored--supreme, almighty, everlasting? Or are we but blind fools,trembling before a blind force that knows and sees and is nothing,except as we, its lords and masters, may compel it to work our will?"

  The muttering of thunder broke in upon the priest's last words. Astorm-cloud was driving in from the west, low-hanging and menacing. Thepriest's face changed.

  "He comes! he comes!" he continued, with fanatic intensity. "This is ourlord, in very truth, who now stands before us, calling upon his peopleto turn to him ere it be too late. Yet three days, and Doom, Doom theMighty, is fallen, is fallen! He has said it--yet three days."

  The two women stayed neither to see nor to listen further. Hand-in-handthey gained the street and ran in the direction of the Citadel Square,heedless of the rain that was now beginning to fall. Several blocks awaythey paused, exhausted, compelled to seek shelter in a doorway from thefury of the storm. Some one was already there--a man. He turned as theyentered, and Esmay saw that it was Ulick.

  For several moments they stood side by side without exchanging a word,and, indeed, no speech would have been audible amid the almostcontinuous crashing of the thunder-peals. Then, as the first violence ofthe storm expended itself, Esmay heard her name uttered, and realizedthat Ulick was holding her hand in both his own.

  "Don't!" she pleaded, and drew her hand away.

  Ulick's face hardened. "I might have known it," he said, bitterly. "Yethe who has been false to friendship may betray love as well."

  "He is dead," she said, and Ulick started.

  "Constans--dead!" he stammered.

  "Hanged at the yard-arm of the _Black Swan_. But Quinton Edge stilllives."

  "You loved him?" persisted Ulick, the sense of his injury still strongwithin him.

  The girl drew herself up proudly. "Yes, I loved him--that is for you andall the world to know. But be comforted; he cared not a whit for me.That, in the end, was made plain enough."

  Ulick's fare was pale. "But he still stands between us?" he said.

  "Yes," she answered, simply.

  The rain had almost ceased; Esmay made a movement to depart.

  "There is nothing--no way in which I can serve you?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "Nothing. I am going back to Arcadia House, but Ishall have Nanna with me. There is nothing to fear."

  He regarded her fixedly. "What can you do against Quinton Edge? He isthe master--our master."

  "I do not know; I have not thought. But I can watch and I can wait."

  "Waiting! If that were all----"

  "No, no! it could not be." She colored hotly, and he stopped, abashed.

  "You must go now," she went on, gently. "Ulick, dear Ulick, I am sendingyou away, but, indeed, it is better so. And I shall r
emember--always."

  He would have spoken again, but something in her face restrained him. Hebent and kissed her reverently, as a brother might, and went out. Andshe, watching him go, found her vision suddenly blurred by a mist oftears. For there is something in every woman's heart that pleads a trueman's cause, for all that she may not accept the gift he proffers.

  Nanna had disappeared into the house some few minutes before; now shereturned from her journey of discovery, wearing an expression of gravityquite new to her. "Come," she said, "I want to show you something."

  She drew Esmay after her down the draughty passage that led to theoffices of the long-since-deserted dwelling-house. There was a largeapartment at the end of the passage--the kitchen, to judge from thecharacter of the fittings. The room had been formerly lighted byelectricity, and Nanna pointed out a lampwire whose free end wasdangling in close proximity to a lead water-pipe. Underneath was a smallheap of oil-soaked rags.

  "You remember what we saw at the House of Power?" said Nanna,significantly.

  Esmay examined the wire carefully. At the broken end the insulatingfabric had been stripped off and the copper scraped clean and brightwith a knife-blade.

  "I found this on a nail in the passage," went on Nanna, and held out abit of cloth that had been torn from a garment. It was of that peculiarweave worn only by the priests of the Shining One.

  Esmay looked at it with troubled eyes. "What does it mean?" she asked,but Nanna only shook her head.

  "Of course, I remember what happened at the temple," said Esmay,hesitatingly. "We saw him turn a handle, and the wire a hundred feetaway spouted fire. If a hundred feet, why not half a mile?"

  "It is a trap," asserted Nanna.

  "But for what purpose?"

  Nanna was not to be moved. "A trap," she persisted. "I do notunderstand, but I can feel what it is just as do the wolverine and thefox. Come away."

  They walked down the street.

  "What could Prosper hope to catch in such a snare--for whom could he haveset it?" asked Esmay, putting into audible language the question over whichboth were puzzling. "Unless," she went on, thoughtfully--"unless this isonly one of many."

  Nanna nodded. "Dozens, hundreds of them, and scattered all over thecity. It is the harvest-field of which he spoke."

  As they passed a street corner that commanded a view of the Palace Road,Nanna caught Esmay by the arm and bade her look. Towering head andshoulders above the throng of idle men and gossiping women strodeProsper, the priest, and as he went he proclaimed the woe that mustshortly come upon the city, a message to which none gave heed. But forall their mocking he would not forbear, and long after he had passed outof sight Esmay could distinguish the accents of his powerful voicerising above the din that strove to drown it:

  "Yet three days, and Doom the Mighty--is fallen, is fallen!"