My companion took my hand and held it.

"Listen!" she answered.

And gradually, out of a clamour of weeping and complaint, I heard voices which uttered distinct things.

"I am the Phantom of Wealth"--said one--"For me men and nations have rushed on destruction,--for me they have sacrificed happiness and missed the way to G.o.d! For me innocence has been betrayed and honour murdered. I am but a Shadow, but the world follows me as if I were Light--I am but the gold dust of earth, and men take me for the glory of Heaven!"

"I am the Phantom of Fame"--said another--"I come with music and sweet promises--I float before the eyes of man, seeming to him an Angel!--I speak of triumph and power!--and for me brave hearts have broken, and bright spirits have been doomed to despair! I am but a Shadow--but the world believes me Substance--I am but a breath and a colour, but men take me for a fixed Star!"

"I am the Phantom of Pride!"--said a third voice--"For me humanity scales the height of ambition--for my sake king's and queens occupy uneasy thrones, and surround themselves with pomp and panoply--for me men lie and cheat and wrong their neighbours--for me the homes that should be happy are laid waste--for me false laws are made and evil conquers good I am but a Shadow--and the world takes me for the Sun!--I am but a pa.s.sing flash of light, and men take me for the perfect Day!"

Other voices joined in and echoed wildly around me--and I rose up in the boat, loosing my hold from the clasp of the woman who was with me.

"You are phantoms all!" I cried, half unconscious of my own words--"I want G.o.d's angels! Where is Love?"

The voices ceased--the strange flitting figures that wailed round me faded away into mist, and disappeared--and a light, deep and golden and wonderful, began to shine through the gloom. My companion spoke.

"We have been looking at dreams,"--she said--"You ask for the only Real!"

I smiled. A sudden inrush of strength and authority possessed me.

"You bade me look my last upon my dream of Love!" I said--"But you knew that was impossible, for Love is no dream!"

The golden radiance widened into a perfect splendour, and our boat now glided over a shining sea. As in a vision I saw the figure that steered and guided it, change from darkness to brightness--the black fold fell from its face--Angel eyes looked at me--Angel lips smiled!--and then--I found myself suddenly alone on the sh.o.r.e of a little bay, blue as a sapphire in the reflection of the blue sky above it. The black stretch of water which had seemed so dreary and impa.s.sable had disappeared, and to my astonishment I recognised the very sh.o.r.e near the rock garden which was immediately under my turret room. I looked everywhere for the woman who had been in the boat with me--for the boat itself and its guide--but there was no trace of them. Where and how far I had wandered I could not imagine--but presently, regaining nerve and courage, I began to fancy that perhaps my strange experience had been preordained and planned as some test of my faith and fort.i.tude. Had I failed?

Surely not! For I had not doubted the truth of G.o.d or the power of Love! There was only one thing which puzzled me,--the memory of those voices behind a wall--the voices which had spoken of Rafel's death and treachery. I could not quite rid myself of the anxiety they had awakened in my mind though I tried hard not to yield to the temptation of fear and suspicion. I knew and felt that after all it is the voices of the world which work most harm to love--and that neither poverty nor sorrow can cut the threads of affection between lovers so swiftly as falsehood and calumny. And yet I allowed myself to be moved by vague uneasiness on this account, and could not entirely regain perfect composure.

The door of the winding stair leading to my room in the turret stood open--and I availed myself of this tacit permission to return thither.

I found everything as I had left it, except that when I sought for the mysterious little room hung with purple silk, where I had begun to read the book called 'The Secret of Life,' a book which through all my strange adventure I still had managed to keep with me, I could not find it. The walls around me were solid; there was no sign of an opening anywhere.

I sat down by the window to think. There before my eyes was the sea, calm, and in the full radiance of a brilliant sun. No mysterious or magic art suggested itself in the visible scene of a smiling summer day. Had I been long absent from this room, I wondered? I could not tell. Time seemed to be annihilated. And so far as I myself was concerned I desired nothing in this world or the next save just to know if Rafel Santoris still lived--and--yes!--one other a.s.surance--to feel that I still possessed the treasure of his love. All the past, present and future hung on this possibility,--there was nothing more to hope for or to attain. For if I had lost Love, then G.o.d Himself could give me no comfort, since the essential link with Divine things was broken.

Gradually a great and soothing quietude stole over me and the cloud of depression that had hung over my mind began to clear. I thought of my recent experience with the man and woman who had sought to 'rescue' me, as they said, and how when in sheer desperation I had called "Rafel!

Rafel!" they had suddenly disappeared and left me free. Surely this was a sufficient proof that I was not forgotten by him who had professed to love me?--and that his aid might still be depended upon? Why should I doubt him?

I had placed my book, 'The Secret of Life,' on the table when I re-entered my room--but now I took it up again, and the pages fell open at the following pa.s.sage:--

"When once you possess the inestimable treasure of love, remember that every effort will be made to s.n.a.t.c.h it from you. There is nothing the world envies so much as a happy soul! Those who have been your dearest friends will turn against you because you have a joy in which they do not share,--they will unite with your foes to drag you down from your height of Paradise. The powers of the coa.r.s.e and commonplace will be arrayed against you--shafts of disdain and ridicule will be hurled at your tenderest feelings,--venomous lies and cruel calumnies will be circulated around you,--all to try and draw you from the circle of light into darkness and chaos. If you would stand firm, you must stand within the whirlwind; if you would maintain the centre-poise of your Soul, you must preserve the balance of movement,--the radiant and deathless atoms whereof your Body and Spirit are composed must be under steady control and complete organisation like a well disciplined army, otherwise the disintegrating forces set up by the malign influences of others around you will not only attack your happiness, but your health, break down your strength and murder your peace. Love is the only glory of Life,--the Heart and Pulse of all things,--a possession denied to earth's greatest conquerors--a talisman which opens all the secrets of Nature--a Divinity whose power is limitless, and whose benediction bestows all beauty, all sweetness, all joy! Bear this in mind, and never forget how such a gift is grudged to those who have it by those who have it not!"

Reading thus far, a light began to break in upon me. Had not all the weird and inexplicable experience of the past hours (or days) tended to shake me from Love and destroy my allegiance to the ideal I cherished?

And--had I yielded to the temptation? Had I failed? I dared not estimate either failure or success!

Leaving my place at the window, I saw that the little 'lift' or dresser in the wall had come up noiselessly with its usual daintily prepared refection of fruit and bread and deliciously cool spring water. I had felt neither hunger nor thirst during my strange wanderings in unknown places, but now I was quite ready for a meal, and enjoyed it with all the zest of an unspoilt appet.i.te. When I had finished, I returned to my precious book, and placing it on the table, I propped up my head between my two hands and set myself resolutely to study. And I write down here the pa.s.sages I read, exactly as I found them, for those who care to practise the lessons they teach.

FREE-WILL

"The exercise of the Will is practically limitless. It is left unfettered so that we may be free to make our own choice of life and evolve our own destiny. It can command all things save Love, for Love is of G.o.d and G.o.d is not subject to authority. Love must be born IN the Soul and OF the Soul. It must be a dual flame,--that is to say, it must find its counterpart in another Soul which is its ordained mate, before it can fulfil its highest needs. Then, like two wings moved by the same soaring impulse, it a.s.sists the Will and carries it to the highest heaven. Through its force life is generated and preserved--without it, life escapes to other phases to find its love again. Nothing is perfect, nothing is lasting without the light and fire of this dual flame. It cannot be WILLED either to kindle or to burn; it must be born of itself and IN itself, and shed its glory on the souls of its own choice. All else is subject to order and command. Love alone is free."

POWER

"Power over all things and all men is obtained by organisation--that is to say, 'setting one's house in order.' The 'house' implied is the body in which the Soul has temporary dwelling; every corner of it must be 'in order,'--every atom working healthfully in its place without any suggestion of confusion. Then, whatever is desired shall be attained.

Nothing in the Universe can resist the force of a steadfastly fixed resolve; what the Spirit truly seeks must, by eternal law, be given to it, and what the body needs for the fulfilment of the Spirit's commands will be bestowed. From the sunlight and the air and the hidden things of s.p.a.ce strength shall be daily and hourly renewed; everything in Nature shall aid in bringing to the resolved Soul that which it demands. There is nothing within the circle of Creation that can resist its influence. Success, wealth, triumph upon triumph come to every human being who daily 'sets his house in order'--whom nothing can move from his fixed intent,--whom no malice can shake, no derision drive from his determined goal,--whom no temptation can drag from his appointed course, and who is proof against spite and calumny. For men's minds are for the most part like the shifting sands of the sea, and he alone rules who evolves Order from Chaos."

ETERNAL LIFE

"Life is eternal because it cannot die. Everything that lives MUST live for ever. Everything that lives has ALWAYS lived. What is called death, is by law impossible. Life is perpetually changing into various forms,--and every change it makes we call 'death' because to us it seems a cessation of life, whereas it is simply renewed activity. Every soul imprisoned to-day in human form has lived in human form before,--the very rose that flowers on its stem has flowered in this world before. Each individual Spirit preserves its individuality and, to a certain extent, its memory. It is permitted to remember a few out of the million incidents and episodes with which its psychic brain is stored, but ONLY a few during its period of evolvement. When it reaches the utmost height of spiritual capacity, and is strong enough to know and see and understand, then it will remember all from the beginning.

Nothing can ever be forgotten, inasmuch as forgetfulness implies waste, and there is no waste in the scheme of the Universe. Every thought is kept for use,--every word, every sigh and tear is recorded. Life itself, in our limited view of it, can be continued indefinitely on this earth, if we use the means given to us to preserve and renew it.

It was easy to preserve and prolong it in the early days of the world's prime, for our planet was then nearer to the sun. In the present day it is returning to a position in the heavens which encourages and sustains life--and men live longer without knowing why, never thinking that it is the result of the immediate situation of the planet with regard to the sun. The Earth is not where it was in the days of Christ; it has been rushing through s.p.a.ce these two thousand years, and yet mankind forgets that its place in the heavens is different from that which it formerly occupied, and that with this difference the laws of climate, custom and living are changed. It is not Man who alters his surroundings--it is Nature, whose order cannot be disobeyed. Man thinks that the growth of science and what he calls his 'progress' is the result of his own cleverness alone; on the contrary, it is the result of a change in his atmospheric ether which not only helps scientific explanation and discovery, but which tends to give him greater power over the elements, as well as to prolong his life and intellectual capability. There is no such thing as 'standing still' in the Universe.

Every atom, every organism is doing something, or going somewhere, and there is no stop. Rest itself is merely a form of Progress towards Beauty and Perfection, and there is no flaw anywhere in the majestic splendour of G.o.d's scheme for the ultimate happiness of His entire Creation."

ARROGANT ASCETICISM

"The ascetic is a blasphemer of G.o.d and of the work for which G.o.d alone is responsible. By withdrawing himself from the world of men he withdraws himself from human sympathy. By chastising the body and its natural emotions and desires, he chastises that which G.o.d has made as a temple for his soul to dwell in. By denying the pleasures of this world, he denies all the good which G.o.d has prepared and provided for him, and he wrongs the fair happiness of Nature and the order in which the Universe is planned. The so-called 'religious' person who retires into a monastery, there to pray and fast and bemoan the ills of the flesh, is an unnatural creature and displeasing to his Maker. For G.o.d looked upon everything He had made and found it 'good.' Good--not bad, as the arrogant ascetic would a.s.sume. Joy, not sorrow, should be the keynote of life--the world is not a 'vale of tears' but a flower-filled garden, basking in the perpetual sunshine of the smile of G.o.d. What is called 'sin' is the work of Man--G.o.d has no part in it. 'By pride the angels fell.' By pride Man delays his eternal delight. When he presumes to be wiser than his Creator,--when he endeavours to upset the organisation of Nature, and invents a kind of natural and moral code of his own, then comes disaster. The rule of a pure and happy life is to take all that G.o.d sends with thankfulness in moderation--the fruits of the earth, the joys of the senses, the love of one's fellow-creatures, the delights of the intellect, the raptures of the soul; and to find no fault with that which is and must ever be faultless. We hear of wise men and philosophers sorrowing over 'the pain and suffering of the world'--but the pain and suffering are wrought by Man alone, and Man's cruelty to his fellows. From Man's culpable carelessness and neglect of the laws of health has come every disease, as from Man's egotism, unbelief and selfishness have sprung all the crimes in the calendar." I paused here, for it seemed to me that it was getting dark,--at any rate I could not see to read very clearly. I looked at the window, but very little light came through it,--a sudden obscurity, like a heavy cloud, darkened all visible things. I quickly made up my mind that I would not yield to any more fanciful terrors, or leave the room, even if I saw another outlet that night. With this determination I undressed quickly and went to bed. As I laid my head on the pillow I felt a kind of coldness in the air which made me shiver a little--an 'uncanny'

sensation to which I would not yield. I saw the darkness thickening round me, and closed my eyes, resolving to rest--and so succeeded in ordering all my faculties to this end that within a very few minutes I was soundly asleep.

XIX

THE UNKNOWN DEEP

My slumber was so profound and dreamless that I have no idea how long it lasted, but when finally I awoke it was with a sense of the most vivid and appalling terror. Every nerve in my body seemed paralysed--I could not move or cry out,--invisible bands stronger than iron held me a prisoner on my bed--and I could only stare upwards in horror as a victim bound to the rack might stare at the pitiless faces of his torturers. A Figure, tall, ma.s.sive and clothed in black, stood beside me--I could not see its face--but I felt its eyes gazing down upon me with a remorseless, cold inquisitiveness--a silent, searching enquiry which answered itself without words. If every thought in my brain and every emotion of my soul could have been cut out of me with a dissecting knife and laid bare to outward inspection, those terrible eyes, probing deep into the very innermost recesses of my being, would have done the work.

The beating of my heart sounded loud and insistent in my own ears,--I lay still, trying to gain control over my trembling spirit,--and it was almost with an awful sense of relief that I saw the figure move at last from its rigid att.i.tude and beckon me--beckon slowly and commandingly with one outstretched arm from which the black, dank draperies hung like drifting cloud. Mechanically obeying the signal, I strove to rise from my bed--and found that I could do so,--I sat up shiveringly, looking at the terrifying Form that towered above me, enclosing me as it were in its own shadow--and then, managing to stand on my feet, though unsteadily, I mutely prepared to follow where it should lead. It moved on--and I went after it, compelled by some overpowering instinct against which I dared not rebel. Once the vague, half-formed thought flitted through my brain--"This is Death that summons me away,"--till with the thought came the remembrance that according to the schooling I was receiving, there is no such thing as 'Death,' but only the imaginary phantom we call by that name.

Slowly, sedately, and with an indescribable majesty of movement, the dark Figure glided on before me, and I, a trembling little creature, followed it, I knew not whither. There was no obstacle in our course,--doors, walls and windows seemed to melt asunder into nothingness as we pa.s.sed--and there was no stop to our onward progress till suddenly I saw before me a steep and narrow spiral stairway of stone winding up into the very centre of a rocky pinnacle, which in its turn lifted its topmost peak into the darkness of a night sky sprinkled with millions of stars. The sombre Figure paused: and again I felt the search-light of its invisible eyes burning through me. Then, as though satisfied with its brief survey, it began to ascend the spiral stair.

I followed step by step,--the way was long and difficult--the sharp turns dizzying to the senses, and there seemed no end to the upward winding. Sometimes I stumbled and nearly fell--sometimes I groped on hands and knees, always seeing before me the black-draped Form that moved on with such apparently little care as to whether or no I fared ill or well in my obedience to its summons.

And now, as I climbed, all sorts of strange memories began to creep into the crannies of my brain and perplex me with trouble and uncertainty. Chiefly did my mind dwell on cruelties--the cruelties practised by human beings to one another,--moral cruelties especially, they being so much worse than any physical torture. I thought of the world's wicked misjudgments pa.s.sed on those who are greater in spirit than itself,--how, even when we endeavour to do good to others, our kindest actions are often represented as merely so many forms of self-interest and self-seeking,--how our supposed 'best' friends often wrong us and listen credulously to enviously invented tales against us,--how even in Love--ah!-Love!--that most etherial yet most powerful of pa.s.sions!--a rough word, an unmerited slight, may separate for a lifetime those whose love would otherwise have been perfect. And still I climbed, and still I thought, and still the dark Phantom-Figure beckoned me on and on.

And then I began to consider that in climbing to some unknown, unseen height in deep darkness I was, after all, doing a wiser thing than living in the world with the ways of the world,--ways that are for the most part purely hypocritical, and are practised merely to overreach and out-do one's fellow-men and women--ways of fashion, ways of society, ways of government which are merely temporary, while Nature, the invincible and eternal, moves on her appointed course with the same inborn intuition, namely, to destroy that which is evil and preserve only that which is good. And Man, the sole maker of evil, the only opposer of Divine Order, fools himself into the belief that his evil shall prosper and his falsehood be accepted as truth, if he can only sham a sufficient show of religious faith to deceive himself and others on the ascending plane of History. He who has invented Sin has likewise invented a G.o.d to pardon it, for there is no sin in the natural Universe. The Divine Law cannot pardon, for it is inviolate and bears no trespa.s.s without punishment.

So I mused in my inward self, and still I climbed, keeping my eyes fixed on the Figure that led me on, and which now, having reached the end of the spiral stair, was slowly mounting to the highest peak of the rocky pinnacle which lifted itself to the stars. An icy wind began to blow,--my feet were bare, and I was thinly clad in my night-gear with only the addition of a white woollen wrap I had hastily flung round me for warmth when I left my bed to follow my spectral leader--and I shivered through and through with the bitter cold. Yet I went on resolutely,--indeed, having started on this perilous adventure, there was no returning, for when I looked back on the way I had come, the spiral stair had completely vanished, and there was nothing but black and empty s.p.a.ce!

This discovery so terrified me that for the moment I lost breath, and I came to a halt in the very act of ascending. Then I saw the Figure in front of me turn round with a threatening movement, and I felt that with one second more of hesitation I should lose my footing altogether and slip away into some vast abysmal depth of unimaginable doom. Making a strong effort, I caught back my escaping self-control, and forced my shuddering limbs to obey my will and resume their work-and so, slowly, inch by inch, I resumed my climb, sick with giddiness and fear and chilled to the very heart. Presently I heard a rumbling roar like the sound of great billows rushing into hollow caverns which echoed their breaking in thuds of booming thunder. Looking up, I saw the Figure I had followed standing still; and I fancied that the sombre draperies in which it was enveloped showed an outline of glimmering light. Fired by a sudden hope, I set myself to tread the difficult path anew, and presently I too stood still, beside my mysterious Leader. Above me was a heaven of stars;--below an unfathomable deep of darkness where nothing was visible;--but from this nothingness arose a mighty turbulence as of an angry sea. I remained where I found myself, afraid to move;--one false step might, I felt, hurl me into a destruction which though it would not be actual death would certainly be something like chaos. Almost I felt inclined to catch at the cloudy garments of the solemn Figure at my side for safety and protection, and while this desire was yet upon me it turned its veiled head towards me and spoke in a low, deep tone that was infinitely gentle.

"So far!--and yet not far enough!" it said--"To what end wilt thou adventure for the sake of Love?"

"To no End whatsoever,"--I answered with sudden boldness--"But to everlasting Continuance!"

Again I thought I saw a faint glowing light within its sombre draperies.

"What wouldst thou do for Love?" its voice again enquired--"Wouldst thou bear all things and believe all things? Canst thou listen to falsehood bearing witness against truth, and yet love on? Wilt thou endure all suffering, all misunderstanding, all coldness and cruelty, and yet keep thy soul bright as a burning lamp with the flame of faith and endeavour? Wouldst thou scale the heavens and plunge to the uttermost h.e.l.l for the sake of him thou lovest, knowing that thy love must make him one with thee at the G.o.d-appointed hour?"

I looked up at the Figure, vainly striving to see its face.