Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 89: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE TORCH. he began to speak the assembled men. slipped hastily to their benches and listened with the docility of children. ‘“‘ Are we men, endowed with reason, or are we beasts?” Zorn reproved them. “ We tell ourselves we are gathered here in the cause of justice and human rights—and we act like the Wild Folk! Enough!” The last murmur had subsided. Every eye was fixed on Zorn with a respectful attention that amounted to veneration. Fortune began to note individuals in this audience. He saw that every man wore the bracelet of the Folk, yet there was some- thing about each one of them which would have made him remarked among the mass of the people of the Under City. Certainly it was not dress or feature or carriage, for in these respects they were as unprepossess- ing as the rank and file who slaved for the directorate. Fortune decided that it was the eyes of these men which distinguished them. Every glance held a quicker intelligence than the common—something of self-respect and mental alertness. “Mary,” Zorn turned to the girl who had entered close behind them. “ Unveil the figure,” he directed. “‘ As you sincerely mean what you said to me about this man, pray for him to-night!” Fortune had noticed that in the center of the wall backing the stage there was a large, curtained niche. The girl Mary stepped before this niche and raised her hand to open the draperies. Instantly every man in the room fixed his attention on her. The curtains swung aside under Mary’s hand and there stood revealed in life size, a duplicate of the colossal figure that topped the ruin they were in—the Great Woman of the ancients, its missing arm restored, the face finished as of old so that it reflected a majestic but benevolent purpose. For- tune saw that the Great Woman in_ this restoration bore aloft a torch and in this torch there glowed a little leaping flame. Instantly he thought of Wolff, the Great Towerman, exhibiting his golden statuette bearing the sword, and though he could not have told why, he was swept by a thrill of adoration that recognized in the revealed symbol something he knew to be the truth. 259 Fortune was no student of ruins. He had never troubled his head with speculations about this mutilated figure of the isle, but deep within him an old memory—a memory that was not of his own life nor time— struggled for rebirth so that he breathed more quickly and the blood ran faster in his veins. Over the whole roomful the revelation acted with the quickness of an electric shock, Men fixed their gaze on the image and into their eyes sprang fires of hope and the blind worship of.an immortal ideal. Some, more superstitious, sank to their knees. Several stood as a mark of respect, their gaze fixed on the image, heads held high in prideful, yet respectful, allegiance. Still others bowed their heads and their lips moved as if they prayed. Before the image Mary stood like some high priestess of a strange faith. Her raised face was transfixed in an, ecstasy. She held her slim, graceful young body — rigid. The creamy-brown of her cheeks— the healthful tan that only keen, out-of- door life can give—flooded with color, and her grayish eyes glowed deep blue. She spoke, and the music of her deep, clear voice was a hymn of praise. ‘Goddess of the Torch, famed of old, thou Lamp to guide our feet in dark ways, giver of just laws and guardian of freedom, to you we pray, Lady of Justice, kindle the light_in our hearts. Quiet our passions. Give us knowledge for our guidance. Strengthen our arms to battle for the right, but temper our will to resist the disorders of human folly. Lead our hosts into battle, but counsel us that we may not do those things which would shame thy name. Re- store that freedom that is our ancient birth- right and make us strong to preserve it and to keep thy torch burning clear. In the name of humanity we ask this!” She stopped, and a sigh rose from the attentive audience. Zorn, who stood close to Fortune, mused in a voice scarcely audi- ble: “It always quiets them! Men must have symbols and images to hold them to a purpose—like children playing games!” Then Mary spoke again. She continued to address the Great Woman’s image: . comiuicbook (C@