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_ Hard on twenty years have gone by since that night of Leo's vision--
the most awful years, perhaps, which were ever endured by men--twenty
years of search and hardship ending in soul-shaking wonder and
amazement.
My death is very near to me, and of this I am glad, for I desire to
pursue the quest in other realms, as it has been promised to me that I
shall do. I desire to learn the beginning and the end of the spiritual
drama of which it has been my strange lot to read some pages upon
earth.
I, Ludwig Horace Holly, have been very ill; they carried me, more dead
than alive, down those mountains whose lowest slopes I can see from my
window, for I write this on the northern frontiers of India. Indeed
any other man had long since perished, but Destiny kept my breath in
me, perhaps that a record might remain. I, must bide here a month or
two till I am strong enough to travel homewards, for I have a fancy to
die in the place where I was born. So while I have strength I will put
the story down, or at least those parts of it that are most essential,
for much can, or at any rate must, be omitted. I shrink from
attempting too long a book, though my notes and memory would furnish
me with sufficient material for volumes.
I will begin with the Vision.
After Leo Vincey and I came back from Africa in 1885, desiring
solitude, which indeed we needed sorely to recover from the fearful
shock we had experienced, and to give us time and opportunity to
think, we went to an old house upon the shores of Cumberland that has
belonged to my family for many generations. This house, unless
somebody has taken it believing me to be dead, is still my property
and thither I travel to die.
Those whose eyes read the words I write, if any should ever read them,
may ask--What shock?
Well, I am Horace Holly, and my companion, my beloved friend, my son
in the spirit whom I reared from infancy was--nay, is--Leo Vincey.
We are those men who, following an ancient clue, travelled to the
Caves of Kor in Central Africa, and there discovered her whom we
sought, the immortal /She-who-must-be-obeyed/. In Leo she found her
love, that re-born Kallikrates, the Grecian priest of Isis whom some
two thousand years before she had slain in her jealous rage, thus
executing on him the judgment of the angry goddess. In her also I
found the divinity whom I was doomed to worship from afar, not with
the flesh, for that is all lost and gone from me, but, what is sorer
still, because its burden is undying, with the will and soul which
animate a man throughout the countless eons of his being. The flesh
dies, or at least it changes, and its passions pass, but that other
passion of the spirit--that longing for oneness--is undying as itself.
What crime have I committed that this sore punishment should be laid
upon me? Yet, in truth, is it a punishment? May it not prove to be but
that black and terrible Gate which leads to the joyous palace of
Rewards? She swore that I should ever be her friend and his and dwell
with them eternally, and I believe her.
For how many winters did we wander among the icy hills and deserts!
Still, at length, the Messenger came and led us to the Mountain, and
on the Mountain we found the Shrine, and in the Shrine the Spirit. May
not these things be an allegory prepared for our instruction? I will
take comfort. I will hope that it is so. Nay, I am sure that it is so.
It will be remembered that in Kor we found the immortal woman. There
before the flashing rays and vapours of the Pillar of Life she
declared her mystic love, and then in our very sight was swept to a
doom so horrible that even now, after all which has been and gone, I
shiver at its recollection. Yet what were Ayesha's last words?
"/Forget me not . . . have pity on my shame. I die not. I shall come
again and shall once more be beautiful. I swear it--it is true./"
Well, I cannot set out that history afresh. Moreover it is written;
the man whom I trusted in the matter did not fail me, and the book he
made of it seems to be known throughout the world, for I have found it
here in English, yes, and read it first translated into Hindostani. To
it then I refer the curious.
In that house upon the desolate sea-shore of Cumberland, we dwelt a
year, mourning the lost, seeking an avenue by which it might be found
again and discovering none. Here our strength came back to us, and
Leo's hair, that had been whitened in the horror of the Caves, grew
again from grey to golden. His beauty returned to him also, so that
his face was as it had been, only purified and saddened.
Well I remember that night--and the hour of illumination. We were
heart-broken, we were in despair. We sought signs and could find none.
The dead remained dead to us and no answer came to all our crying.
It was a sullen August evening, and after we had dined we walked upon
the shore, listening to the slow surge of the waves and watching the
lightning flicker from the bosom of a distant cloud. In silence we
walked, till at last Leo groaned--it was more of a sob than a groan--
and clasped my arm.
"I can bear it no longer, Horace," he said--for so he called me
now--"I am in torment. The desire to see Ayesha once more saps my
brain. Without hope I shall go quite mad. And I am strong, I may live
another fifty years."
"What then can you do?" I asked.
"I can take a short road to knowledge--or to peace," he answered
solemnly, "I can die, and die I will--yes, tonight."
I turned upon him angrily, for his words filled me with fear.
"Leo, you are a coward!" I said. "Cannot you bear your part of pain as
--others do?"
"You mean as you do, Horace," he answered with a dreary laugh, "for on
you also the curse lies--with less cause. Well, you are stronger than
I am, and more tough; perhaps because you have lived longer. No, I
cannot bear it. I will die."
"It is a crime," I said, "the greatest insult you can offer to the
Power that made you, to cast back its gift of life as a thing outworn,
contemptible and despised. A crime, I say, which will bring with it
worse punishment than any you can dream; perhaps even the punishment
of everlasting separation."
"Does a man stretched in some torture-den commit a crime if he
snatches a knife and kills himself, Horace? Perhaps; but surely that
sin should find forgiveness--if torn flesh and quivering nerves may
plead for mercy. I am such a man, and I will use that knife and take
my chance. She is dead, and in death at least I shall be nearer her."
"Why so, Leo? For aught you know Ayesha may be living."
"No; for then she would have given me some sign. My mind is made up,
so talk no more, or, if talk we must, let it be of other things."
Then I pleaded with him, though with little hope, for I saw that what
I had feared for long was come to pass. Leo was mad: shock and sorrow
had destroyed his reason. Were it not so, he, in his own way a very
religious man, one who held, as I knew, strict opinions on such
matters, would never have purposed to commit the wickedness of
suicide.
"Leo," I said, "are you so heartless that you would leave me here
alone? Do you pay me thus for all my love and care, and wish to drive
me to my death? Do so if you will, and my blood be on your head."
"Your blood! Why your blood, Horace?"
"Because that road is broad and two can travel it. We have lived long
years together and together endured much; I am sure that we shall not
be long parted."
Then the tables were turned and he grew afraid for me. But I only
answered, "If you die I tell you that I shall die also. It will
certainly kill me."
So Leo gave way. "Well," he exclaimed suddenly, "I promise you it
shall not be to-night. Let us give life another chance."
"Good," I answered; but I went to my bed full of fear. For I was
certain that this desire of death, having once taken hold of him,
would grow and grow, until at length it became too strong, and then--
then I should wither and die who could not live on alone. In my
despair I threw out my soul towards that of her who was departed.
"Ayesha!" I cried, "if you have any power, if in any way it is
permitted, show that you still live, and save your lover from this sin
and me from a broken heart. Have pity on his sorrow and breathe hope
into his spirit, for without hope Leo cannot live, and without him I
shall not live."
Then, worn out, I slept.
I was aroused by the voice of Leo speaking to me in low, excited tones
through the darkness.
"Horace," he said, "Horace, my friend, my father, listen!"
In an instant I was wide awake, every nerve and fibre of me, for the
tones of his voice told me that something had happened which bore upon
our destinies.
"Let me light a candle first," I said.
"Never mind the candle, Horace; I would rather speak in the dark. I
went to sleep, and I dreamed the most vivid dream that ever came to
me. I seemed to stand under the vault of heaven, it was black, black,
not a star shone in it, and a great loneliness possessed me. Then
suddenly high up in the vault, miles and miles away, I saw a little
light and thought that a planet had appeared to keep me company. The
light began to descend slowly, like a floating flake of fire. Down it
sank, and down and down, till it was but just above me, and I
perceived that it was shaped like a tongue or fan of flame. At the
height of my head from the ground it stopped and stood steady, and by
its ghostly radiance I saw that beneath was the shape of a woman and
that the flame burned upon her forehead. The radiance gathered
strength and now I saw the woman.
"Horace, it was Ayesha herself, her eyes, her lovely face, her cloudy
hair, and she looked at me sadly, reproachfully, I thought, as one
might who says, 'Why did you doubt?'
"I tried to speak to her but my lips were dumb. I tried to advance and
to embrace her, my arms would not move. There was a barrier between
us. She lifted her hand and beckoned as though bidding me to follow
her.
"Then she glided away, and, Horace, my spirit seemed to loose itself
from the body and to be given the power to follow. We passed swiftly
eastward, over lands and seas, and--I knew the road. At one point she
paused and I looked downwards. Beneath, shining in the moonlight,
appeared the ruined palaces of Kor, and there not far away was the
gulf we trod together.
"Onward above the marshes, and now we stood upon the Ethiopian's Head,
and gathered round, watching us earnestly, were the faces of the
Arabs, our companions who drowned in the sea beneath. Job was among
them also, and he smiled at me sadly and shook his head, as though he
wished to accompany us and could not.
"Across the sea again, across the sandy deserts, across more sea, and
the shores of India lay beneath us. Then northward, ever northward,
above the plains, till we reached a place of mountains capped with
eternal snow. We passed them and stayed for an instant above a
building set upon the brow of a plateau. It was a monastery, for old
monks droned prayers upon its terrace. I shall know it again, for it
is built in the shape of a half-moon and in front of it sits the
gigantic, ruined statue of a god who gazes everlastingly across the
desert. I knew, how I cannot say, that now we were far past the
furthest borders of Thibet and that in front of us lay untrodden
lands. More mountains stretched beyond that desert, a sea of snowy
peaks, hundreds and hundreds of them.
"Near to the monastery, jutting out into the plain like some rocky
headland, rose a solitary hill, higher than all behind. We stood upon
its snowy crest and waited, till presently, above the mountains and
the desert at our feet shot a sudden beam of light that beat upon us
like some signal flashed across the sea. On we went, floating down the
beam--on over the desert and the mountains, across a great flat land
beyond, in which were many villages and a city on a mound, till we lit
upon a towering peak. Then I saw that this peak was loop-shaped like
the symbol of Life of the Egyptians--the /crux-ansata/--and supported
by a lava stem hundreds of feet in height. Also I saw that the fire
which shone through it rose from the crater of a volcano beyond. Upon
the very crest of this loop we rested a while, till the Shadow of
Ayesha pointed downward with its hand, smiled and vanished. Then I
awoke.
"Horace, I tell you that the sign has come to us."
His voice died away in the darkness, but I sat still, brooding over
what I had heard. Leo groped his way to me and, seizing my arm, shook
it.
"Are you asleep?" he asked angrily. "Speak, man, speak!"
"No," I answered, "never was I more awake. Give me time."
Then I rose, and going to the open window, drew up the blind and stood
there staring at the sky, which grew pearl-hued with the first faint
tinge of dawn. Leo came also and leant upon the window-sill, and I
could feel that his body was trembling as though with cold. Clearly he
was much moved.
"You talk of a sign," I said to him, "but in your sign I see nothing
but a wild dream."
"It was no dream," he broke in fiercely; "it was a vision."
"A vision then if you will, but there are visions true and false, and
how can we know that this is true? Listen, Leo. What is there in all
that wonderful tale which could not have been fashioned in your own
brain, distraught as it is almost to madness with your sorrow and your
longings? You dreamed that you were alone in the vast universe. Well,
is not every living creature thus alone? You dreamed that the shadowy
shape of Ayesha came to you. Has it ever left your side? You dreamed
that she led you over sea and land, past places haunted by your
memory, above the mysterious mountains of the Unknown to an
undiscovered peak. Does she not thus lead you through life to that
peak which lies beyond the Gates of Death? You dreamed----"
"Oh! no more of it," he exclaimed. "What I saw, I saw, and that I
shall follow. Think as you will, Horace, and do what you will.
To-morrow I start for India, with you if you choose to come; if not,
without you."
"You speak roughly, Leo," I said. "You forget that /I/ have had no
sign, and that the nightmare of a man so near to insanity that but a
few hours ago he was determined upon suicide, will be a poor staff to
lean on when we are perishing in the snows of Central Asia. A mixed
vision, this of yours, Leo, with its mountain peak shaped like a
/crux-ansata/ and the rest. Do you suggest that Ayesha is re-
incarnated in Central Asia--as a female Grand Lama or something of
that sort?"
"I never thought of it, but why not?" asked Leo quietly. "Do you
remember a certain scene in the Caves of Kor yonder, when the living
looked upon the dead, and dead and living were the same? And do you
remember what Ayesha swore, that she would come again--yes, to this
world; and how could that be except by re-birth, or, what is the same
thing, by the transmigration of the spirit?"
I did not answer this argument. I was struggling with myself.
"No sign has come to me," I said, "and yet I have had a part in the
play, humble enough, I admit, and I believe that I have still a part."
"No," he said, "no sign has come to you. I wish that it had. Oh! how I
wish you could be convinced as I am, Horace!"
Then we were silent for a long while, silent, with our eyes fixed upon
the sky.
It was a stormy dawn. Clouds in fantastic masses hung upon the ocean.
One of them was like a great mountain, and we watched it idly. It
changed its shape, the crest of it grew hollow like a crater. From
this crater sprang a projecting cloud, a rough pillar with a knob or
lump resting on its top. Suddenly the rays of the risen sun struck
upon this mountain and the column and they turned white like snow.
Then as though melted by those fiery arrows, the centre of the
excrescence above the pillar thinned out and vanished, leaving an
enormous loop of inky cloud.
"Look," said Leo in a low, frightened voice, "that is the shape of the
mountain which I saw in my vision. There upon it is the black loop,
and there through it shines the fire. /It would seem that the sign is
for both of us, Horace./"
I looked and looked again till presently the vast loop vanished into
the blue of heaven. Then I turned and said--"I will come with you to
Central Asia, Leo." _
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