Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-02-15

beings of tomorrow Only on the path
ahead Like the will-o'-the-wisp
Then what was she? Was she his
dream-his dream of beauty, visible to
another?
Fantastic? Was not the fantastic
always the mere working of unfamiliar
laws? When men looked out upon
things, what was the stuff Of which
their visions were made? Form, feature,
flesh and blood? Were not the things
he saw only the things projected by
himself upon screen he called. the
real? Did. he not endow action with
meaning, possessions with worth,
woman herself with the attributes OF
his ideal? Could his ideal then become
visible to the woman who merely loved
him?
Fantastic indeed! But what was this
cndowing, projecting, creating thing In
man and woman? Was it not the thing
that lived-that lived the only life
that ever-present life of every f1eeting
moment? Was it not the vital thing OF
which form, feature, movement, we're
but the unreal reflections? AS unreal as
that heroic figure of man descending
glittering stairs to face a mob?
She turned back toward the man
behind her. He was still on his knees
on the rock, but his hands rested
poised on their fingertipS and he was
staring at her, as if it were in her
white figure against the night that he
saw his ghostl
She stepped slowly toward him. "She
is very beautiful, Radley," she said,
your dawn maiden!"
He started to his feet. "Phyllis!" he
cried. Then suddenly he put out his
hands half fearfully, to touch her. AS
if he were not sure she was there! HIS
fingers came upon her arms. He held
her and looked into her eyes. And she
could not conceal what was in them.
Whatever he did or was, she would
always love him. Then" he said at
last, "it Is you that comes real!"
She could not speak-only stand and
look at him, betraying all her heart.
But she did not care.
My God" he whispered, chow right
Carol was! You're not-picturesque;
youre-real!"
He drew her closer and put his arms
about her shoulders.
Can you forgive me, Phyllis?" he
begged. 1--WE been caught in my own
| trap"
They stood at the edge of the lookout
| together. AS far as their eyes could
reach there was soft darkness, sprinkled
with rnyriads of twinkling lights, like a
reflection of the starlit sky. The distant
yellow fire was dead.
"And the Vicarion, Phyl?" he asked
at last. He turned and smiled at her.
''You know I've been dreaming OF
| empire"
what is empire?"
sitting apart and running the rest. y
| "It can't be DONE
| st know it can't-now. Not because
people can't be managed, but because
no man can-sit long apart"
He took dark little disk from his
pocket and held it up. Here's my
crown and scepter, Phyl. You're right
| If belongs to the world. Do you
realize that it's you who will be giving
it to 'em?"
She could not answer.
you think the Vicarion's raw facts
can't hurt em?"
mot If they get enough facts to ses
truth"
He snapped the little bit of mys-
FERROUS substance into the air like
coin and caught 1t.
"Going back to the house?" he
asked, almost casually.
/ mot now"
I "Well.n he said, looking off over this
dark land, there's a iuII GOWN eiisA'
in the Wprld. Now is good time 10
me to gosand becore-one OF my KIND
Wish me luck"
II do"
"Then shall have it," he said. ant
kissed her fingers softly. Then n
turned, closed the travelling case on IN
rear of the car, and next moment wa
behind the wheel. She watched hin
| turn the car. He waved his hand a.
he passed her again-and smiled. TheI
he was gone, of down the great hill
| in the dark. =,
1t was not spectacular And, in tn
dark. 1t was probably something tn
Vicarion would never record. Merel,
a man going to acknowledge his one
ness with his kind!
The girl walked out to the end O.
the lookout How far away seemed tn
violent little events Of that night! 1