CHAPTER XIII. TOM'S TWO SECRETS. "If you have a secret, Go tell it in waste places, far away From all but elves and goblins; yet be sure TOM JONES had the first night-watch—in such matters, juniores priores. They lighted the bonfire at sunset, and then his friends left him, Miranda giving him a merry smile as she vanished down the pathway. Gradually the magical lights-those ghostly echoes of sunset-died in the east and west; grey grew the concave sky, and darker grey the levels of the sea. Night-watches are good for the restless spirit of man. You are face to face, nothing to disturb, with the most marvellous and inexplicable works of God. No wonder the Chaldean shepherds were astronomers, seeing how close seemed the stars during their long solitary nights. Also, when you are so close to the Creator, you get a new and special introduction to yourself; you are not the same man among your jolly comrades over the wine as when you are absolutely alone upon a windy hill, with nothing between yourself and God. Tom Jones had two secrets, and wished he hadn't. He pondered over them through this calm and lovely night, while the bonfire blazed on the height, and the ocean was phosphorescent, as if to mock the stars. It was a marvellous time. Those stars move faster than the light of ocean; yet distance makes them seem immovable. They are coming or going with measureless speed, yet we call them fixed. Leaning against the flagstaff, watching his bright bonfire, and looking sometimes at the tracks of scintillant light upon the sea, Tom passed the hours in half-conscious soliloquy and self-examination. He looked back over his life with doubtful feelings. Had he been right, after all, to sever himself from his family, and pass eighteen years in Australian wilds, because his father neglected him and his schoolmaster flogged him? When a man gets an opportunity of seriously reflecting on his past life, he can usually touch one point of departure which was the real commencement of his career, whether that career were success or failure. At the moment, it possibly seemed to him unimportant which course he took; but the two paths diverged more widely every year, and the time arrives when it was easy to see whether you have made a mistake or not. It is not impossible that a mathematical formula might be constructed to take in all cases of this kind. The astrologers could do it, doubtless. Some such vague fancy had Tom Jones, as the clear stars filled the air with quiet light. liked to question the stars. He would have Had they indeed any influence on the lives of men? Could their runes be read? What would he not give to know his fate before making an attempt to change its course! But, probably because he had not faith enough, there reached him no intimation of guidance, so he had to decide for himself. How I love Miranda!" he thought, smoking his pipe by that solitary fire which blazed unanswered. "I have seen no women, and after Miranda I have no wish to see any. Surely she is perfect, if there is any such thing as perfection. She must have some small faults, of necessity: perhaps I shall find them out if I am lucky enough to make her my wife. She can't be quite immaculate. Indeed, I should be sorry if she were; for I should like to amuse myself by correcting her little peccadilloes. But shall I tell her? If I do, will she laugh at me as an old fogy, whom she has always regarded as a kind of amateur uncle? Why have I thrown away my youth on those Australian sheepwalks? But, then, if I had not, I should never have seen Miranda; and not to have seen her would have left my life incomplete. Certainly I know very little about women, but there can be no other like her, I'll swear." In this fashion through the summer night did Tom Jones meditate on the first of his two secrets. At last he decided to pluck up courage and tell Miranda his first secret the first time there came an opportunity. Alack! how many an opportunity already had he lost! If you cannot tell your sweetheart your desire during a month or two at sea, better not try to do so ashore. The quiet night went on. The bonfire blazed. An eastern light came slowly up the sky, and slowly grew more strong. Then purple and rose and saffron streaked the heaven; then came the gold rim of the rising sun, widening and widening till the perfect disc threw level light upon the sea. Tom Jones forget his troubles in the glory of the sight. To him a sunrise was no such novelty as to the jaded citizen who sees it seldom, unless he is up a little later than usual. Many a sunrise had Tom Jones seen upon the green plains of Australia, when there was a long day's ride to be done; but this sunrise on the sea appeared to him the loveliest sight he had ever known; and he looked eastward as eagerly as if he had been Orion in his blind ness. |