Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

JASON, SON OF JASON. 7 his description of her, and the resultant picture printed on my mind. Yet I could close my eyes at will and see her, slender, golden haired, with her lips of flaming scarlet, and her violet-purple eyes. And I knew h€r home. I could lift it into my conscious perception as a familiar scene. I could imagine her moving about it, young, v.brant, happy, alone or with Croft by ‘her side. » I could fancy her bath- ing in the sun-warmed waters of the private bath in the garden —the gleam of her form against the clear yellow stone of which it was constructed—until she seemed the lit- tle silver fish Croft had called her, disport- ing’ in a bowl of gold, behind the white, screening, vine-clad walls. Or I could dream of her walking about the grounds, with the giant Canor—the huge, doglike creature she called Hupor, who was at once her pet, her companion, and guard. Dis- tant? Why, she seemed no more distant to me in the days after Croft had gone back to be with her when her time of de- livery was come than some fair maid of earth waiting for the coming of her lover across a dividing wall in an adjacent yard: And yet so blind is the objective mind, that even then I did not suspect I had established a sympathetic chain of interest between ‘the atmosphere of ‘her existence and myself, capable of stretching out to a most peculiar climax in the end. Then, one night something over a month after No. 27 had died and been laid away, I dreamed. I don’t say I thought of it as a dream at the time. Then it was all too seriously, too grippingly, real to seem other than the ac- tual thing. It was only after it was over that I thought of it as a dream—perhaps because, despite the occurrence and all Croft had told me, I was still not fully con- vinced. Later—well, that’s the story. Ill let it unfold itself. ‘I went to bed that night and fell asleep. How long I slept I do not know. But a voice disturbed my slumbers after a time. At least it disturbed the restful uncon- sciousness of my spirit. To this day I am not sure whether or not my body moved. ‘* Murray—Murray.” I heard it, dimly at’ first, but insistent. It kept repeating itself over and over. Beyond doubt some one was demanding my attention. I sought to rouse. ‘“Murray—in the name of Zitu—and Azil—”’ I stiffened my attention. It was nothing short of startling to hear those words spoken. Zitu ‘was Cod in the Tamarizian lan- guage, as I knew, and Azil was the Angel of Life—as Ga was the Virgin Mother. Ga and Azil—the mother and the life-bringer —they were the ones to whom the Tamar- izian women most frequently prayed. I gave over my endeavor to waken my sleep- ing body and lay strainiag the ears of my spirit to the voice. It came again. Whoever the speaker was, he seemed to know the had stirred my con- scious perception. ‘“Murray—I need your advice—your — counsel. Naia needs you. It’s life and death, Murray. You told me you would gladly render her assistance as a physician, Murray—will you come?” My spirit staggered. It was most amaz- ing. For now I knew that the speaker was Jason Croft. I knew that he was appealing to me in the name of Zitu and Azil—in the name of motherhood—that he was calling on me as a brother physician, by the oath of my profession—in the name of all that was highest and holiest dn life. I knew that Naia’s hour of travail was upon her—and I knew it as clearly as if the thing were taking place somewhere within a neighboring home on earth. I lay and let the knowledge beat in upon me. I recalled. in a flash all he had told me con- cerning -medical knowledge on Palos. If some complication in the birth of their child impended, there would be none on that far planet to whom he could turn for aid. He knew more than all the physicians of Palos put together, but— “ Murray!” the voice repeated. ray, in the nanie of God!” ‘There was a desperate urge—a desperate plaint about it. I reached a decision. [I had never married. There was no one de- pendent upon me. With a strange thrill I realized the fact. If I failed to return from * Mur- conmiclbool C@