The Divine Adventure etc. (Works vol. 4)

owed the course of a brown torrent, and were soon under the shadow of the mountain. The ewes and lambs made incessantly that mour

play of light and shadow in the swirling brown torrent along whose banks we walked, and by whose grayling-haunted pools we lingered often, to look at the beautiful shadowy unrealities of the perhaps not less shadowy reality which they mirrored: of the solemn dusk of the pines

shadow till it should turn and leap into him, and he be a wild creature of the woods again, and b

Nay, the mystery of the Trinity is symbolised here again-as in us three; for there is an ancient forg

seemed, by the tremulous blue band of the sea-line. The Body was glad, for here were friends, and he wearied for his kind. The Will and the Soul, too, wer

en under a granite rock is home to a tired hind; and so we, who are wayfarers idler than th

ke the

a cheerier home than the green bracken. Tell me, ha

ht? I would take them to be

ul-but what do

to be Dream, and

ith a sigh, "for the Three Companions of who

hing," muttered the Will, w

a sandy lane hung with honeysuckles, which were

, and Longing; Laughter, and Wine, and Love:

the green dusk in the shadow of the hedge, we came upon a white devious road. A young man

, young and strong, should be doing

reathing?" he

," answered the Bod

reak stone

t wor

tter tha

dy slowly, "it is

e Soul, "why is it

ts not t

d to want, then,

r looked sullenl

u have? It is a pity good money should be wasted. I know well where I wou

ed at him wit

spending it?" he asked

an from America, who has come back to his own town, and is givin

who is marrying Elsie Camero

be the other daughter of Al

e face of the Body

e," he said

ne-breaker mutter

Alastair Rua and

a Macdonald's big hous

show me

ing tha

ody turned to

said simply; "I l

ed the Will sharply; "for she has gi

ody l

ove," he s

ul wearily; "we have loite

breaker, who was gazing curiou

laugh?" as

h to go into the town, you have only to follow this road. And if you wa

," whisper

to go with this man. I will meet you to-morrow morning at the first bridge to the w

leave. For a long time the Will watched him with a bitter

distant farm-steading, where already were lights, and whence came a lowin

se with you?"

have come a

at

would say, to

man laughed. "To see the

for ou

e world gives to them that alr

ou hope fo

be d

ugh and the joke by the fireside; and of food and drink, too

As for me, I ho

hy

an you think what it is to break a hope in your heart each time you crack a stone on the roadside? That's what

that, and you speak like a ma

ough," said the man

ing does t

ld as the Bible. For there's mention o' me there. Only

our fathe

rses me o'

me as the old story t

n. But see, yonder's the farm. Take my advice, an' drink. It's better than the fireside, it's better than food, it's bet

Marsanta Macdonald, and with laughter and delight met

f two books, now out of one, now out of the other. The one was the

ched him. In the little harbour, thin shadowy masts ascended like smoke and melted. A green lantern swung from one. The how

as the incalculable notes of a stilled music, become visib

slay the spirit," the Will murmured, star

ernal hope. To me they are whited sepulchres. They say we live, to those who die; they say God endures, to Man that perisheth

all all be caught in a net, we whom Chance hath for his idle sport, and upon whom Time trampleth wi

lifted the other. Having found the p

he fishes that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds that are caught in the snare,

low light run out, leap across the pavement and pass like a fan of outblown flame. Then t

s? Can you not s

which follows upon what you have just read. It is not only Time and Chance upon which to dwell; but upo

ittle windy street, the Will opened the Bo

wake to behold his dream-As thou knowest not what is the way of t

lit a candle as he lay down on his bed, and watched the warm companionable flame till sleep came

p, and across the windy common where a tethered ass stood, with drooping head, his long, twitching ears now motionless. In the moonlight, the sh

g, and the pipes and a shrill flute added to the tumult. Others sang and laughed, or laughed a

yes aflame, his face flushed with wine, his left arm holding close to his heart a bright winso

grown faint. But what the ear could not he

ink no mor

him. The stone-breaker lounged heavily

g eyes. "I am drunk, an' now I am as reckless as a kin

red flame rising from grey ashes. The ashes were hi

ntered. He went straight to the stone-breaker, who was

ear. The man lifted his head, a

that?"

d to give you her life. What will it be

ng arm. There was a star

devil. Your nam

. "I do not know," he answered

love o

love o

lls eve

rywh

raised the deathly spirit to his lips again, and again drank. Then, laugh

y, so that those about him sta

riend whom he loved was whispering eager vows of sand and wind; and the girl Morag, clinging close to him, tempted

nger, as he went slowly from the house, though all were

ight-jar creeping forward on a juniper, uttering his whirring love-note; and he blessed their sweet, innocent lust. Then, looking upward, he watched for a while the wh

of an open window. On the ledge lay a violin, doubtless discarded by some reveller. The Soul lifted it, and held it up to the night-w

none knew what the strain was, or whence it cam

. Beautiful, unfamiliar sounds, and sudden silences passing sweet, filled the rooms. The last guests left hur

from hidden sanctuaries in rocks and trees, green and grey lives slid, and stood intent. Out of the hillside came those of old. There were many eager voices, like leaves lapping in a wind. The wild-fox lay down, with red tongue lolling idly: the stag rose from the fern, with dilated nostrils; the night-jar ceased, the cornc

was his mother's voice that he heard, singing-low a cradle-sweet song, and putting back her white hair that she might look earthward to her

e beauty of Beauty, the Immortal Love, so that, afterwards, he should remember the glory rather than the shame of his poor frailty. What he played t

was a balm upon all. He fel

" he prayed, "let none

pe and Peace, how Dream and Rest and Longing, how Laughter and Wine