Daybreak: A Romance of an Old World | Page 4

trying to have her break her foolish resolution and let me hear her.
Although unsuccessful, the situation was not without a pleasurable interest for me, for I
knew it must end some time, and in a way, no doubt, to give me great enjoyment, judging

from the accounts which came to my ears. Margaret, too, was well satisfied to let the
affair drift along indefinitely, while she anticipated with delight the surprise she was
preparing for me.
During the years she had just been spending abroad a good share of her time had been
given to her musical studies, principally vocal culture, and in her letters she provokingly
quoted, for my consideration, the flattering comments of her instructors and other
acquaintances. She did this as part of my punishment, trying to make me realize how
much pleasure I was losing. Each time I crossed the ocean to visit her I expected she
would relent, but I was as often disappointed; and now this homeward voyage had almost
come to an end, and I had never heard her voice in song since she was a child. Open and
unreserved as she was by nature, in this particular she had schooled herself to be as
reticent and undemonstrative as she accused me of being.
Our talk on the subject of my shortcomings, that evening on shipboard, had not continued
much longer before I acknowledged in plain language that I knew my fault and was ready
to cooperate in any scheme that could be suggested to cure it.
"What you need," said Margaret, "is some violent sensation, some extraordinary
experience to stir your soul."
"Yes," I answered, "my humdrum life, my wealth, which came to me without any effort
of my own, and the hitherto almost unruffled character of my relations with you have all
conspired to make me satisfied with an easy and rather indolent existence. I realize I need
a shaking up. I want to forget myself in some novel experience, which shall engross all
my attention for a time and draw upon my sympathies if I have any."
"But what can one do in 'this weak piping time of peace'? There are no maidens to be
rescued from the enchantments of the wizard, and it is no longer the fashion to ride forth
with sword and halberd to murder in the name of honor all who oppose themselves. No
more dark continents wait to be explored, neither is there novelty left in searching the
ocean's depths nor in sailing the sky above us. Civilized warfare itself, the only field
remaining where undying fame may be purchased, seems likely to lose its hold on men,
and soon the arbitrator will everywhere replace the commander-in-chief and the noble art
of war will degenerate into the ignoble lawsuit. So even universal peace may have its
drawbacks."
"That is quite sufficient in that line," said Margaret. "Now let us come down to something
practicable."
"Well, I might bribe the pilot to sink the steamer when we are going up the bay, so that I
could have the opportunity of saving your life."
"It would be almost worth the trial if it were not for the other people," she returned.
"Such a role would become you immensely."
"I regret that I cannot accommodate you," I said. "But I have thought of something which
would be rather safer for you. How would you like to have me fall desperately in love

with some pretty girl?"
"Just the thing," exclaimed Margaret, laughing and clapping her hands, "if you can only
be sure she will not return your passion."
"Small chance of that," I answered. "So you approve the plan, do you?"
"Certainly, if you care to try it. Lady never held knight against his will. But have you
forgotten that, after the resources of this planet are exhausted, as you seem to think they
are soon likely to be, you and I have other worlds to conquer? Perhaps in that work you
may find diversion powerful enough to draw you out of yourself and, possibly,
opportunities for some heart culture."
I must explain that this was a reference to a plan of life we were marking out for
ourselves. Margaret was an enthusiast on the subject of astronomy. I would include
myself in the same remark, only the word enthusiast did not fit my temperament at that
time. But our tastes agreed perfectly in that matter, and we had always read with avidity
everything we could find on the subject. Margaret, however, was the student, and as she
had developed great proficiency in mathematics, she had decided to make astronomy her
profession.
It was understood that I was to perform the easier part of furnishing the money for an
observatory and instruments of our own, and I was determined