Part 21 (1/2)
Seaton laughed.
”Oh, that goes without saying! Did you ever hear of any scientist possessing a secret drawn from the soul of nature that was not called 'mad' at once by his compeers and the public? I can stand THAT accusation! Pray Heaven I never get as mad as a Wall Street gambler!”
”You will, if you gamble with the lives of nations!” said Gwent.
”Let the nations beware how they gamble with their own lives!” retorted Seaton--”You say war is a method of money-making--let them take heed how they touch money coined in human blood! I--one man only,--but an instrument of the Supreme Intelligence,--I say and swear there shall be no more wars!”
As he uttered these words there was something almost supernatural in the expression of his face--his att.i.tude, proudly erect, offered a kind of defiance to the world,--and involuntarily Gwent, looking at him, thought of the verse in the Third Psalm--
”I laid me down and slept; I awaked for the Lord sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousands of the people that have set themselves against me round about.”
”No--he would not be afraid!” Gwent mused--”He is a man for whom there is no such thing as fear! But--if it knew--the world might be afraid of HIM!”
Aloud he said--”Well, you may put an end to war, but you will never put an end to men's hatred and envy of one another, and if they can't 'let the steam off' in fighting, they'll find some other way which may be worse. If you come to consider it, all nature is at war with itself,--it's a perpetual struggle to live, and it's evident that the struggle was intended and ordained as universal law. Life would be pretty dull without effort--and effort means war.”
”War against what?--against whom?” asked Seaton.
”Against whatever or whoever opposes the effort,” replied Gwent, promptly--”There must be opposition, otherwise effort would be unnecessary. My good fellow, you've got an idea that you can alter the fixed plan of things, but you can't. The cleverest of us are only like goldfish in a gla.s.s bowl--they see the light through, but they cannot get to it. The old s.h.i.+p of the world will sail on its appointed way to its destined port,--and the happiest creatures are those who are content to sail with it in the faith that G.o.d is at the helm!” He broke off, smiling at his own sudden eloquence, then added--”By-the-by, where is your laboratory?”
”Haven't got one!” replied Seaton, briefly.
”What! Haven't got one! Why, how do you make your stuff?”
Seaton laughed.
”You think I'm going to tell you? Mr. Senator Gwent, you take me for a greater fool than I am! My 'stuff' needs neither fire nor crucible,--the formula was fairly complete before I left Was.h.i.+ngton, but I wanted quiet and solitude to finish what I had begun. It is finished now. That's why I sent for you to make the proposition which you say you cannot carry through.”
”Finished, is it?” queried Gwent, abstractedly--”And you have it here?--in a finished state?”
Seaton nodded affirmatively.
”Then I suppose”--said Gwent with a nervous laugh--”you could 'finish'
ME, if it suited your humour?”
”I could, certainly!” and Seaton gave him quite an encouraging smile--”I could reduce Mr. Senator Gwent into a small pinch of grey dust in about forty seconds, without pain! You wouldn't feel it I a.s.sure you! It would be too swift for feeling.”
”Thanks! Much obliged!” said Gwent--”I won't trouble you this morning!
I rather enjoy being alive.”
”So do I!” declared Seaton, still smiling--”I only state what I COULD do.”
Gwent stood at the door of the hut and surveyed the scenery.
”You've a fine, wild view here”--he said--”I think I shall stay at the Plaza a day or two before returning to Was.h.i.+ngton. There's a very attractive girl there.”
”Oh, you mean Manella”--said Seaton, carelessly; ”Yes, she's quite a beauty. She's the maid, waitress or 'help' of some sort at the hotel.”