When Ashley opened his eyes, he was happy to feel that his head was still on his neck.
The bluish light of an uncertain dawn filtered through the window panes. He was sweating. One hour later, he was sitting at the other end of a long table in the dining room, to have breakfast with the Count. He waited for ten minutes. The Count was not coming: the butler brought a card for Ashley. Count Stanley begged for his pardon, but he must go upon a sudden errand and hoped he had had a pleasant night.
How ironic. “I enjoyed the poem,” he thought.
He read on and saw the following:
“Please, find the stream that does not flow, hear the silent words and learn to live in the grave. Leave your mind behind and follow your insight.”
Fair enough, the Count liked enigmas, it seemed. How far would this go? Finally, there were details of his pay and terms of work. He would send him the contract through Rosemary, as he would be away for three weeks. In the meanwhile, he trusted Mr. Seymour would devote himself to the study of the documents and meet Professor Davies to discuss technical details.
***
When Ashley came in front of the family gable-house, he saw that Luke and Virgil were dragging the nets out of their boat and went down to the beach to help them out. Day after day, he would repeat that chore: it was his way of thanking the two men, with whom he felt so little connection. Yet, they were hospitable, and he enjoyed Luke’s meekness. He noted that Virgil was relaxing more, maybe because he enjoyed his presence, although they did not say much.
Sometimes, they would smoke the herrings on the beach, if the weather was good enough, and the whole family would gather there in religious silence to have breakfast: it was what was left of the ancient devotions of fishermen. Ashley liked their dedication to the sea; he noted that even Virgil, for all his sullenness, could brighten up after a good catch.
***
One day, he saw the youth sitting on the shore with his eyes wandering over the grey restless surface, towards the horizon. Virgil invited him to sit down with a silent gesture, and said:
“You know, the sea today is just like me: restless. But I can melt down my anxiety when I look at him."
Ashley noticed his dark blue eyes for the first time.
He asked: “Virgil, what is it exactly?”
Virgil grinned and said:
“I don’t know. I would like to take another chance, to change my life, but I am spellbound by the very place I want to run away from. You know, when I was in Manchester, I had a go at city life. I thought I could change, but I was wrong. There was something down here” – he touched his belly – “telling me I had to come back. It was not that whining feeling of somebody who misses home. It was more like discovering what I was like deep down, to the core, if you see what I mean."
Ashley nodded unsure.
Virgil spoke without looking at him.
“Anyway, I am still waiting for the big moment of revelation.” He laughed.
Afterwards, Ashley was more understanding, and absolved Virgil for his apparent callousness. The time came when the two would smoke their cigarettes sitting on the beach, telling jokes to each other. Ashley helped a few times out at sea, but soon he had to start his job at the National Heritage Foundation, so he had to leave Virgil and Luke at that. The contract terms were quite generous. Ashley was glad he had a proper job on the island. He would study the Foundation’s microfiches and films. He met Professor Davies three times to gather details of the famous Sword dance and, finally, he was ready to take the first shots. He had laid out a detailed plan of work and felt rather self-assured and satisfied with himself.
Time passed quickly, he had already spent more than a month there, and it seemed like a whole life. His pain was gradually healing: he was reaching the point of acceptance. Yet, there was still something that eluded his self-knowledge. He did not realize it, but he was looking for nothing else but himself.