The Star In The East

: The Doomsman

It was in October of the same year that Constans and Esmay stood one day

in the court-yard of the Greenwood Keep, now restored and rebuilt.



His father's blood friends had helped generously in the rehabilitation

of his fortunes, and Constans had worked hard with his own hands. Now

the task was finished, and he had persuaded Esmay to ride over from the

River Barony and pronounce in person upon its merits. For let it be< r />
known that Piers Minor had lost no time in bringing home his bride, and

both he and Nanna had insisted that Esmay must live with them. And Esmay

had accepted gratefully, for all that she was an heiress in her own

right, through inheritance of her uncle Hugolin's estate, and could have

bought and sold Piers Minor and Nanna, and all their holdings, ten times

over. But all of her red gold could not buy love, and Esmay was wise

enough to know this. Moreover, the River Barony was but twenty miles

distant from the Greenwood Keep, and at least twice every week Constans

rode over and spent the night. It was pleasant to hear him tell proudly

of the progress of the work; how yesterday the roofing of the

guard-house had been started, and how to-day they had turned for the

first time the waters of the Ochre brook into the moat. Esmay always

listened attentively, and it pleased her to think that Constans looked

at her when he talked, even though his actual words might be addressed

to Piers Minor or to Nanna. Listening always, but speaking seldom, for

she felt that he was waiting purposely until some milestone of

achievement had been passed, and she feared that he might consider her

unwomanly. So the summer had gone, the great work was accomplished, and

now they were viewing it together. They had seen everything, going in

turn from lighting platform to calving-barn; from forge and smithy to my

lady's bower. And Esmay had duly admired all and pronounced it good.



Now they were standing in the great hall watching the martins as they

circled around the red-capped gatehouse, and the white doves cooing in

the eaves. A silence had fallen between them, and Constans, leaning

against the window-casement, seemed to have forgotten of Esmay's very

existence. Quietly she drew aside and left him, impelled by an

irresistible desire to know if he would notice her absence and would

follow her. Hardly had she stolen five steps away than she heard him

start, and then turn to seek her. A sheer delight coursed through her

veins, and she began to run.



"Esmay!" he called, but she would not stop, gathering up her skirts in

both her hands, and trying not to look behind her. But he was quickly at

her heels, and an inexplicable terror seemed to seize her; she looked

about for a hiding-place; a door presented itself, and she clutched the

handle desperately, but it refused to turn. Seeing her discomfiture,

Constans believed that he was entitled to enjoy his triumph. He walked

up with leisurely deliberation. "You are a goose," he said, and took

her hands in his, as one who reproves a wilful child.



She assented meekly.



"To run away like that--so foolish, when I had something serious to say

to you. Why do you suppose I brought you here? Why should I want you to

see the house? why did I build it at all? Be good enough to answer me."



She looked up at him with the most innocent expression in the world.

"Why?" she echoed, as though mightily puzzled, and immediately the male

creature became miserably bewildered, and lost his confident bearing in

the twinkling of an eye. Had she really misunderstood him? had he been

deceiving himself from the very beginning? He turned pale and dropped

her hands, and she, misinterpreting this relinquishment of ownership,

felt the blood receding from her own checks. Two utterly foolish

creatures, and yet their folly is not to be argued away by the wise men.

For while it is the accepted theory that a woman always knows when she

is loved (with which men please themselves), and per contra that a man

is never unconscious of the favor in which he stands (with which women

torment themselves), yet the truth is that neither man nor woman is ever

certain of the fact until it is finally proclaimed in actual speech. So

this is why lovers are always being asked to repeat and repeat again the

magic words upon which all their happiness depends.



"The reason--you know--the reason why," he stammered, and then she came

to his aid.



"Yes, I know, but tell me."



And thereupon he did tell her.



A year later, and Constans and his wife sat on a high point of land that

overlooked the waters of the Lower bay and the broad, salt sea beyond

the dunes. Several of Constans's neat-cattle had strayed, and he had

determined to ride to the fishermen's village below the Narrows to

inquire if the estrays had been seen in that direction. Esmay had

accompanied him, and they had been all day in the saddle and were weary.

Nevertheless, they were satisfied, for the lost cattle had been

recovered, and in the morning the herdsmen would be sent over to drive

them home.



They had shared a frugal supper of bread and cheese and dried grapes,

and now they were waiting until the horses should have cropped their

fill. There was no hurry, the moon not rising for an hour yet, and it

was useless to arrive at the Kills before the time of slack water.

Constans had his back against a pine-stump, and Esmay's head rested on

her husband's shoulder. They sat in silence, gazing out upon the gray

sea, content in their present happiness and looking forward to a yet

greater one in the near future. For to Constans Esmay had just made a

wife's final confession, the secret being whispered into his inmost ear,

though there was only the land and the sea to overhear.



Suddenly, on the darkened eastern sky-line, a bright light flashed out,

in color like to a star, and yet incomparably more brilliant. And the

light was not fixed, but continually changed its base, as was shown by

the broad band of rays that now swept the surface of the sea and then

traced their luminous way on the overhanging clouds. Another shift and

the shining pathway reached to their very feet, illuminating with its

radiance every object within its focus, down to the tiniest shell upon

the beach. Esmay, startled, clung to her husband's arm.



"What is it?" she asked, but he could not answer her.



Yet as they gazed upon the new star, insensibly they became comforted.

Whatever this prodigy foretold, it could not be an omen of lasting evil.

Had they not seen for themselves that, even in the worst of worlds,

righteousness and justice and truth had been something more than names.

Doom had fallen; for more than a twelvemonth the ruins had smouldered,

and to-day they were but the harmless haunt of bat and badger. And the

world relieved of that intolerable incubus, and recovered of its purging

and cleansing sickness, had started once more upon its appointed

path--slowly, indeed, at the first, but ever onward and upward.



"It is only one more of the things that we cannot understand," said

Constans at the last. "But we who love need not fear."



He drew his wife's face to his own, and there, full in the radiance of

the unknown star, he kissed her on the lips.



* * * * *



Early that same evening Sub-Lieutenant Jarvison, watch-officer of the

electric cruiser Erebus, reported to his commander that a landfall had

been made six points away on the port bow. Captain Laws immediately

hastened to the bridge of the vessel and ordered that the engines be

stopped and the customary signals shown. But no reply was received to

the rockets displaying the red, green, and white colors of the Antarctic

Republican Navy; apparently the country was not inhabited. Yet to make

sure, the search-light was put in requisition. Up and down, from side to

side, swept the giant beam, and now they could see that the land on the

left rose gradually into a considerable headland. Beyond opened the wide

waters of what must be a great bay. Captain Laws reflected for a moment,

and then gave another order to his executive.



Under half speed, and with a leadsman in the chains, the Erebus moved

steadily towards the unknown coast.