The Foot of Time: A Novel of Australia and the South Seas: (1933)

168
THE FOOT OF TIME
two men had lorded it like Kings of Canoodledum
there, and overstayed their welcome as well as their
leave. To this could be added that Bruce had taken
the chieftain's daughter to wife, and was to leave
his heir to follow in Mangani's stead when that
worthy had been gathered to his fathers in the ordinary
course of things. Bruce felt his plight to be
hopeless. He could but wait until, with the expected
arrival of the French Consul, he could make
his case clear enough to get away. What would
happen then Bruce hardly dare think.
But time went on, and no representative of
France arrived. And that was a strange thing, but
not so strange after all, since the governmental
launch foundered with all hands in the storm which
swept Tuamonti while engaged in visiting other
islands in the group. The disorganisation consequent
upon the tragedy left, indeed, a twelve
months' gap between visits. The owner of the
launch hired by Bruce and his late friend was a
junior official who travelled round with Monsieur
Le Temps, and suffered a like fate with him in the
disaster.
Bruce thus lived in a happy dream; the type
common to mankind in which the sleeper dimly
knows himself to be asleep—luxuriates in the
drugged bliss of some inordinately thrilling dream,
and prays against waking. At any rate, against
waking too soon. And in such dreams the real life
—the waking life—is in no way altered. Bruce
loved Edith all the time, yet revelled in the entrancing
joy of Molota.
...
. ' .....
THE FOOT OF TIME
169
In a sense, Bruce's passionate attachment for the
Polynesian girl strengthened his purer, deeper love
for Edith. The two could not run together, but
the one could follow upon it. Of course, Edith
would never think so, peradventure they ever met
again.
Further, if Bruce could ever get to Edith again,
if he could ever get her to overlook such a happening,
then, indeed (having passed and been seared in
the fire) , would he be safer to her. For all time,
and, maybe, for all eternity.
For the present, so far as he was able (and he
succeeded with tolerable success) , he put Edith
right behind him, lived in the present and, it has
to be confessed, was utterly happy.