At the Time Appointed - Page 50/224

The winter proved to be mild and open, so that Darrell's weekly visits

to The Pines were made with almost unbroken regularity, and to his

surprise he discovered as the months slipped away that, instead of a

mere obligation which he felt bound to perform, they were becoming a

source of pleasure. After a week of unremitting toil and study and

contact with the rough edges of human nature, there was something

unspeakably restful in the atmosphere of that quiet home; something

soothing in the silent, steadfast affection, the depth of which he was

only beginning to fathom.

One Saturday evening in the latter part of April Darrell was, as usual,

descending the canyon road on his way to The Pines. For weeks the winter

had lingered as though loath to leave, and Darrell, absorbed in work and

study, had gone his way, hiding his loneliness and suffering so deeply

as to be ofttimes forgotten even by himself, and at all times

unsuspected by those about him. Then, in one night had come the warm

breath of the west winds, and within a few hours the earth was

transformed as though by magic, and the restless longing within his

breast awoke with tenfold intensity.

As he rode along he was astounded at the changes wrought in one week.

From the southern slopes of the mountains the snow had almost

disappeared and the sunny exposures of the ranges were fast brightening

into vivid green. The mountain streams had burst their icy fetters and,

augmented by the melting snows, were roaring tumultuously down their

channels, tumbling and plunging over rocky ledges in sheets of

shimmering silver or foaming cascades; then, their mad frolic ended,

flowing peacefully through distant valleys onward to the rivers, ever

chanting the song which would one day blend in the great ocean

harmonies.

The frail flowers, clinging to the rocks and smiling fearlessly up into

the face of the sun, the silvery sheen of the willows along the distant

water-courses, the softened outlines and pale green of budding

cottonwoods in the valleys far below, all told of the newly released

life currents bounding through the veins of every living thing. From the

lower part of the canyon, the wild, ecstatic song of a robin came to him

on the evening breeze, and in the slanting sunbeams myriads of tiny

midges held high carnival. The whole earth seemed pulsating with new

life, and tree and flower, bird and insect were filled anew with the

unspeakable joy of living.

Amid this universal baptism of life, what wonder that he felt his own

pulse quicken and the warm life-blood leaping swiftly within his veins!

His heart but throbbed in unison with the great heart of Nature, but its

very beating stifled him as the sense of his own restrictions came back

upon him with crushing weight. For one moment he paused, his spirit

struggling wildly against the bars imprisoning it; then, with a look

towards the skies of dumb, appealing anguish, he rode onward, his head

bowed, his heart sick with unutterable longing.