He had the world to himself, and loved the loneliness.
Out here, the sea about him, the night above, he could feel the slow
tides of God pushing onwards through the dark of Time.
Wars and tumults and all the tiny irritations and griefs of life, what
were they to that immense-moving flood? And he was one with that
flood. Stealing through the water with cleaving arms, he was assured
of it.
V
Something rose shadowy and gaunt before him. It was the privateer.
The sight tumbled him out of Eternity into Time. His heart began to
clamour, as though it would force its way out of his body.
No longer one with God, seeing all things with His large eyes, and
loving them--he was a little boy, mortally afraid, alone in the vast
and callous night.
In his flurry be began to splash about: then recollected himself, and
trod water quietly.
The moon was deserting him, the sardonic moon he had thought of as a
friend. Her silver rim glimmered behind the Downs and was gone. He
missed her. Cold she was, still she had been company. He thought she
might have stayed--just this one night! He felt aggrieved, and very
much alone. And those stars strewing the night above him were so far,
and had such hard little eyes.
Pages:
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215