If there had been, now they were ended forever.
"Not forever," said Sweetheart; "who knows how long the magic second may last?"
"But we--what difference can that make?" I asked.
We looked out into the west. The sun turned to a mound of cinders; the hills loomed in opalescent steam.
"But--but--your shadow!" said Sweetheart.
The shadows we cast were whiter than snow.
I still heard the hill winds, soft in my ears as breaking surf; a bird-note came from the dusky woodland; a star broke out overhead.
"What is your pleasure, Sweetheart, now all is said?" I asked.
"The world is all so fair," she sighed; "is it fairer beyond the hills, Jack?"
"It is fair where you pass by, north, south, and from west to west again. In France the poplars are as yellow as our oaks. In Morbihan the gorse gilds all the hills, yellow as golden-rod. Shall we go?"
"But in the spring--let us wait until spring."
"It is written that Time shall pass as a shadow across the sea. What is that book there under your feet--that iron-bound book, half embedded like a stone in the grass."
I raised the book; it left a bare mark in the sod as a stone that is turned. Then, holding it on my knees, I opened it, and Sweetheart, leaning on my shoulder, read. The tall stars flared like candles, flooding the page with diamond light; the earth, perfumed with blossoms, stirred with the vague vibration of countless sounds, tiny voices swaying breathless in the hidden surge of an endless harmony.
"The white shadow is the shadow of the soul," she read. Even the winds were hushed as her sweet lips moved.
"And what shall make thee to understand what hell is?... When the sun shall be folded up as a garment that is laid away; when the stars fall, and the seas boil, and when souls shall be joined again to their bodies; and when the girl who hath been buried alive shall be asked for what crime; when books shall be laid open, when hell shall burn fiercely, and when paradise shall be brought very near:
"Every soul shall know what it hath wrought!"
I closed my eyes; the splendour of the starlight on the page was more than my eyes could bear.
But she read on; for what can dim her eyes?
"O man, verily, labouring, thou labourest to meet thy LORD.
"When the earth shall be stretched like a skin, and shall cast forth that which is therein;