CHAPTER XXXII
A Happy Consummation
Not many months after the publication of the “History of the Upper World” there occurred a vastly more important event. At least, it was vastly more important to me, and constituted the most fortunate episode of all my life in Atlantis. Ever since that encouraging talk with Aelios in “The Temple of the Stars,” I had been drawing gradually nearer to her; and by slow and unconscious degrees, so subtle that we ourselves could hardly note the change, we seemed to be entering upon the rôle of lovers. There was no emotional demonstration, and no deliberate reference to love, for in Atlantis it was considered undignified to express any casual amorous sentiments; but at times, in her eyes I would catch that reassuring look I had noted at rare intervals before, and in our increasingly frequent meetings, her manner seemed to be tinged by something indefinably wistful and yet indefinably gentle, that I had not previously observed.
It might be imagined that the appearance and wide discussion of my book would have had an adverse effect upon her; but, fortunately, I had shown her many chapters before publication, and the contents were no surprise to her. And while she was at one with her people in loathing the upper world, she could hardly blame me for the conditions I depicted. Indeed, she was soon to give proof that she did not consider me in the least a partner in the supposed backwardness of my race.
I do not now recall the precise circumstances that led up to the climax; I only know that it was on one of my numerous visits to her home, when we were alone together in the tapestried room of the pale blue lanterns. Nothing had suggested to me in advance that our interview today was to differ from our previous interviews, and certainly nothing could have suggested such a thought to her; but somehow the conversation drifted into unexpected channels, and we found ourselves provocatively near the subject of love; and somehow her words (though I cannot now remember their trend) stirred up all my checked and slumbering emotions, forced down the barriers of my reserve, filled me with a sudden and unlooked-for courage, and urged my lips to frame words that I had not premeditated then. And almost as much to my own surprise as to hers, I found myself proposing that she marry me!
But was my rashness appropriately punished? Far from it. What was my amazement, and what my delight, when she looked up at me with trustful, grave blue eyes and quietly consented!
And yet it all seemed so simple that it might have been an everyday occurrence! She had taken my proposal almost as a matter of course, almost as if she had expected it; but at the same time the exalted and happy light in her eyes showed that she was far from indifferent.
“I was not sure before,” she murmured, simply, after my first rapturous exclamations. “But now I am quite certain. We will be all in all to one another, will we not, my beloved?”
I forgot just how I replied; I have an impression that my arms performed some lively antics, with Aelios as their goal, and that anything I said must have been merely incidental.
“When shall the day be, Aelios?” I asked, when I was again in a mood for discussion. “When do you say?”
“When do you want me to say?” she returned, as though surprised at my query. “If we are both sure, what is the use of delaying?”
And, by dint of further questioning, I learned that long engagements were unknown in Atlantis. Although usually so slow-going and leisurely, the natives seemed to me singularly hasty in this one regard; and once two people had decided upon marriage, it was not customary to allow more than the few days’ interval necessary for the preparations. It had always been so in Atlantis, Aelios explained, and she could not imagine how it could be otherwise, for why subject the young couple to the unnatural tension of waiting, and why make love ridiculous by arbitrarily starving it?
Previously, when I had dared to think of the possibility of marriage with Aelios, I had half reconciled myself to the prospect of a long engagement, since observation had taught me nothing of Atlantean marriage customs, and I had imagined that an interval at least of months, might be considered proper. And so I was a little bewildered by the unexpected imminence of our union; I was like a man who, long blind, has suddenly beheld a flash of light; and it took me a little while to adjust myself to the startling new unfolding vistas.
* * * * *
To begin with, I was not sure quite what was expected of me. Should I present Aelios with a ring or similar trinket such as was customary on earth? or was some more elaborate gift deemed necessary? In my perplexity, I consulted Xanocles, who merely smiled at my doubts. “Marriage with us,” he explained, “is not treated as a form of barter; nor is it a bargain wherein precious articles must be given as sureties. We have long ago stamped out of our marriage system all traces of its primitive origin--all traces of that old custom which regarded it merely as a contract of sale, and which in the beginning demanded the parental receipt of cattle or other material property, and later required rings or similar baubles as a tender of the purchase price if not as a pledge of good faith. When two of our people are married, they would consider it degrading to be expected to give anything beyond themselves.”
But even after I had been relieved on this important subject, there was still much that troubled me. Aelios had decided that but eight days were to intervene before the ceremony (this being about the usual time); and, despite all my joyous anticipations, I trembled just a little at the thought that I was so soon to exchange my known if monotonous bachelor life for an unknown career as Atlantean husband. But, fortunately, my hours were so completely occupied that I had little chance to be disturbed by doubts. For one thing, I spent a great deal of time with Aelios; for another thing, I was much entertained by my friends, who were astonished and yet loudly congratulatory upon hearing the news, and insisted upon putting me through long ordeals of questions, laughter, and amiable chaffing remarks. An entire meeting of the Upper World Club was given over to a celebration alleged to be in my honor; and President Gavison, after unbending from his official sternness to wish me luck in terms that I thought just a little wistful and a little reminiscent of his own lost happiness, was followed in quick succession by the various other club members, all of whom strove to express themselves with appropriate levity. Had there been such a thing as an intoxicant in Atlantis, I am sure that we would have had a merry old time; but, for lack of the proper stimulants, the men had to be content with their questionable jests, with poking me mirthfully in the ribs, with slapping me heartily on the back, with expressing the wish that they might be in my shoes (or, rather, sandals, since these were the only footwear in Atlantis), and with laughing and guffawing in a generally irresponsible and uproarious manner.
But as the few remaining days slid by, did I have no thought of her whom I had left on earth? Did I not think of Alma Huntley, she to whom I had once pledged devotion? Perhaps I should be ashamed, but I am not, to say that the memory of her scarcely entered my mind. She was no more than a shadow in a world that was daily growing more shadowy, in an existence I had outlived and could not expect to reenter; and if at times she would obtrude herself before me like a dim melancholy presence without color or form, such occasions were growing increasingly rare; and now that Aelios seemed so near and our two lives were so soon to be fused, Alma was obscured as a pale star is obscured by the sunlight; and all the torrents of my being welled up tumultuously toward Aelios, and it seemed as if her companionship and her love were the only love or companionship I had ever known or desired.
And how near I was to enjoying that companionship for life became vividly apparent to me about three days after we had reached our decision. Then it was that Aelios and I, in accordance with the custom of the land, visited the local housing bureau, which was to assign us to our new lodgings. After we had duly placed our names side by side in a great venerable-looking ledger wherein all the wedded couples of the past hundred years were enrolled, we passed an exciting afternoon in the company of the chief housing representative, who showed us all the available dwelling places with the same obliging courtesy as when I had selected my bachelor quarters. As on the former occasion, there were so many desirable locations that the choice was difficult; and on passing each new threshold, Aelios would pause with a little cry of wonder or surprise, and would point in admiration to some distinctive feature of arrangement or decoration. Needless to say, I too was dazzled and delighted; particularly since I had previously seen only apartments designed for single people. None of these homes were very large; indeed, most of them had but three or four rooms in addition to the roof sleeping chambers and the almost invariable central court; but they were the most home-like little nooks one could imagine, and were made attractive not only by the lawns and flowering gardens that surrounded them, but by their tastefully furnished rooms, whose lamps and tapestries and statuary were never too lavish or ornate and yet always gave an effect at once picturesque and cozy.
Our choice was in favor of a little butterfly-shaped dwelling, with silvery walls inlaid with mother-of-pearl and high-arched windows surrounded by vivid bands of stained glass. The interior appeared entrancing to us both, for not only were the walls and ceilings frescoed as though by a master hand, but the painted designs were matched by the very rugs on the floor and the draperies that screened the doorways; while a little statue-lined fountain that bubbled perpetually in the court fascinated us both by its rainbow glimmering showers of spray.
“You may move in any time after your names are registered in the Marriage Book,” said the housing representative, when we had notified him of our decision and he had duly recorded it. “But if ever you should find this house unsatisfactory, you have only to enter your complaint, and if possible we will provide you with another dwelling. But meanwhile this will be regarded as your official residence.”
* * * * *
And with these words the housing representative bowed a gracious retreat, while Aelios and I were left to inspect the home that was so soon to be ours.
With the enthusiasm of children we examined every nook and corner, growing constantly more excited as our search proceeded; Aelios was radiant; I had never seen her eyes sparkle more brightly, her cheeks glow more vividly; and I realized as never before how extraordinarily fortunate I was.
And it seemed as if her emotions corresponded with mine! “Is it not the strangest whim of fate,” she asked, “that you have come down here to me, my beloved? How easily I might have missed you! How easily we might each have gone through life not knowing that the other existed!”
“So it has been with all lovers since the world began,” I returned. “Even in Atlantis, love must always seem a miracle.”
“Even in Atlantis, it always is a miracle,” she amended; and she looked up at me with a smile so luminous and trustful, so kindly and so tinged with a rapturous emotion, that I could not but admit that she was right.
The days that followed this delightful interview are but a blur in my memory. Although every hour was slow-footed with the suspense and the waiting, it seems to me that but a moment elapsed between our departure from our chosen home and our happy return ... the intervening events are all obscured by that never-to-be-forgotten morning when Aelios and I entered the office of the Local Adviser and were officially united.
The actual ceremony was insignificant--indeed, there was no ceremony at all. We had merely to record our names for a second time, writing them in the Marriage Book which the housing representative had mentioned--an enormously thick volume bound in blue and gold, with thousands of pages, of which one was devoted to the history of each marriage. There were no questions asked us; there were no high-sounding formulas to be spoken by clockwork; there were no official representatives of saintliness to offer dogmatic advice; there were no vows to be taken, no promises to be made, no witnesses to gape or snicker, no pompous giving or receiving of the bride. We merely furnished the State with that record which it required, and did so without having to purchase a preliminary printed tag by way of permission; and after we had entered our names in the book, we were not insulted with any attempt to sanctify proceedings with words of antique witchcraft, nor humiliated by any implication that our own feelings would not amply solemnize the day.
Of course, if we desired to celebrate our nuptials with a festival of any sort, that was our privilege--a privilege which the State would recognize by providing an appropriate hall for the day. And, as it happened, most bridal couples availed themselves of this right. We were no exception, for when our marriage had been officially recorded, we repaired to a flower-decked chamber where a few of Aelios’ friends and relatives were awaiting us. And after receiving greetings and congratulations, we did not pass our time in feasting or drinking, nor in making merry nor in riotous jests; but we danced for a while a sedate dance timed to ethereal strains of music; and later we all sat quietly about the room, Aelios at my side and the others on mats and sofas opposite, while the lights were subdued, and we listened to a still more ethereal music, which rose and quavered in a voice of joy like the notes of melodious birds, then faintly trilled like a far-off elfin call or throbbed and sang in an organ-burst of ecstasy, until one was moved almost to tears by the revealed poignancy and beauty of life, and came to look upon love with a new reverence and a new wonder.
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