In his great room he sat down by the table
and fell into a long meditation upon the most immediate consequences of
his success in the difficult undertaking he had so skilfully brought
to a conclusion. His eyes wandered about the room from one specimen to
another, and from time to time a short, scornful laugh made his white
beard quiver. As he had said once to Unorna, the dead things reminded
him of many failures; but he had never before been able to laugh at
them and at the unsuccessful efforts they represented. It was different
to-day. Without lifting his head he turned up his bright eyes, under the
thick, finely-wrinkled lids, as though looking upward toward that Power
against which he strove. The glance was malignant and defiant, human and
yet half-devilish. Then he looked down again, and again fell into deep
thought.
"And if it is to be so," he said at last, rising suddenly and letting
his open hand fall upon the table, "even then, I am provided. She cannot
free herself from that bargain, at all events."
Then he wrapped his furs around him and went out again. Scarce a hundred
paces from Unorna's door he met the Wanderer. He looked up into the
cold, calm face, and put out his hand, with a greeting.
"You look as though you were in a very peaceful frame of mind," observed
Keyork.
"Why should I be anything but peaceful?" asked the other, "I have
nothing to disturb me."
"True, true.
Pages:
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225