George Allan England

The Afterglow George Allan England

Life! Life again, and light, the sun and the fresh winds of heaven, the perfect azure of a June sky, the perfume of the passionate red blooms along the lips of the chasm, the full-throated song of hidden birds within the wood to eastward-life, beauty, love-such, the sunrise hour when Allan and the girl once more stood side by side in the outer world, delivered from the perils of the black Abyss. Hardly more real than a disordered nightmare now, the terrible fall into those depths, the captivity among the white barbarians, the battles and the ghastly scenes of war, the labors, the perilous escape. All seemed to fall and fade away from these two lovers, all save their joy in life and in each other, their longing for the inevitable greater passion, pain and joy, their clear-eyed outlook into the vast and limitless possibilities of the future, their future and the world's. And as they stood there, hand in hand beside the body of the fallen patriarch-he whose soul had passed in peace, even at the moment of his life's fulfilment, his knowledge of the sun-awe overcame them both. With a new tenderness, mingled with reverent adoration, Stern drew the girl once more to him. Her face turned up to his and her arms tightened about his neck. He kissed her brow beneath the parted masses of her wondrous hair. His lips rested a moment on her eyes; and then his mouth sought hers and burned its passion into her very soul.