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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1368 ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+When the World Shook
+
+Being an Account of the Great Adventure
+of Bastin, Bickley and Arbuthnot
+
+by H. Rider Haggard
+
+
+Contents
+
+ CHAPTER I. Arbuthnot Describes Himself
+ CHAPTER II. Bastin and Bickley
+ CHAPTER III. Natalie
+ CHAPTER IV. Death and Departure
+ CHAPTER V. The Cyclone
+ CHAPTER VI. Land
+ CHAPTER VII. The Orofenans
+ CHAPTER VIII. Bastin Attempts the Martyr’s Crown
+ CHAPTER IX. The Island in the Lake
+ CHAPTER X. The Dwellers in the Tomb
+ CHAPTER XI. Resurrection
+ CHAPTER XII. Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand Years!
+ CHAPTER XIII. Oro Speaks and Bastin Argues
+ CHAPTER XIV. The Under-world
+ CHAPTER XV. Oro in His House
+ CHAPTER XVI. Visions of the Past
+ CHAPTER XVII. Yva Explains
+ CHAPTER XVIII. The Accident
+ CHAPTER XIX. The Proposals of Bastin and Bickley
+ CHAPTER XX. Oro and Arbuthnot Travel by Night
+ CHAPTER XXI. Love’s Eternal Altar
+ CHAPTER XXII. The Command
+ CHAPTER XXIII. In the Temple of Fate
+ CHAPTER XXIV. The Chariot of the Pit
+ CHAPTER XXV. Sacrifice
+ CHAPTER XXVI. Tommy
+ CHAPTER XXVII. Bastin Discovers a Resemblance
+ NOTE By J. R. Bickley, M.R.C.S.
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+
+Ditchingham, 1918.
+
+MY DEAR CURZON,
+
+More than thirty years ago you tried to protect me, then a stranger to
+you, from one of the falsest and most malignant accusations ever made
+against a writer.
+
+So complete was your exposure of the methods of those at work to
+blacken a person whom they knew to be innocent, that, as you will
+remember, they refused to publish your analysis which destroyed their
+charges and, incidentally, revealed their motives.
+
+Although for this reason vindication came otherwise, your kindness is
+one that I have never forgotten, since, whatever the immediate issue of
+any effort, in the end it is the intention that avails.
+
+Therefore in gratitude and memory I ask you to accept this romance, as
+I know that you do not disdain the study of romance in the intervals of
+your Imperial work.
+
+The application of its parable to our state and possibilities—beneath
+or beyond these glimpses of the moon—I leave to your discernment.
+
+Believe me,
+Ever sincerely yours,
+H. RIDER HAGGARD.
+
+To
+The Earl Curzon of Kedleston, K.G.
+
+
+
+
+WHEN THE WORLD SHOOK
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+Arbuthnot Describes Himself
+
+
+I suppose that I, Humphrey Arbuthnot, should begin this history in
+which Destiny has caused me to play so prominent a part, with some
+short account of myself and of my circumstances.
+
+I was born forty years ago in this very Devonshire village in which I
+write, but not in the same house. Now I live in the Priory, an ancient
+place and a fine one in its way, with its panelled rooms, its beautiful
+gardens where, in this mild climate, in addition to our own, flourish
+so many plants which one would only expect to find in countries that
+lie nearer to the sun, and its green, undulating park studded with
+great timber trees. The view, too, is perfect; behind and around the
+rich Devonshire landscape with its hills and valleys and its scarped
+faces of red sandstone, and at a distance in front, the sea. There are
+little towns quite near too, that live for the most part on visitors,
+but these are so hidden away by the contours of the ground that from
+the Priory one cannot see them. Such is Fulcombe where I live, though
+for obvious reasons I do not give it its real name.
+
+Many years ago my father, the Rev. Humphrey Arbuthnot, whose only child
+I am, after whom also I am named Humphrey, was the vicar of this place
+with which our family is said to have some rather vague hereditary
+connection. If so, it was severed in the Carolian times because my
+ancestors fought on the side of Parliament.
+
+My father was a recluse, and a widower, for my mother, a Scotswoman,
+died at or shortly after my birth. Being very High Church for those
+days he was not popular with the family that owned the Priory before
+me. Indeed its head, a somewhat vulgar person of the name of Enfield
+who had made money in trade, almost persecuted him, as he was in a
+position to do, being the local magnate and the owner of the rectorial
+tithes.
+
+I mention this fact because owing to it as a boy I made up my mind that
+one day I would buy that place and sit in his seat, a wild enough idea
+at the time. Yet it became engrained in me, as do such aspirations of
+our youth, and when the opportunity arose in after years I carried it
+out. Poor old Enfield! He fell on evil fortunes, for in trying to
+bolster up a favourite son who was a gambler, a spendthrift, and an
+ungrateful scamp, in the end he was practically ruined and when the bad
+times came, was forced to sell the Fulcombe estate. I think of him
+kindly now, for after all he was good to me and gave me many a day’s
+shooting and leave to fish for trout in the river.
+
+By the poor people, however, of all the district round, for the parish
+itself is very small, my father was much beloved, although he did
+practise confession, wear vestments and set lighted candles on the
+altar, and was even said to have openly expressed the wish, to which
+however he never attained, that he could see a censer swinging in the
+chancel. Indeed the church which, as monks built it, is very large and
+fine, was always full on Sundays, though many of the worshippers came
+from far away, some of them doubtless out of curiosity because of its
+papistical repute, also because, in a learned fashion, my father’s
+preaching was very good indeed.
+
+For my part I feel that I owe much to these High-Church views. They
+opened certain doors to me and taught me something of the mysteries
+which lie at the back of all religions and therefore have their home in
+the inspired soul of man whence religions are born. Only the pity is
+that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred he never discovers, never
+even guesses at that entombed aspiration, never sinks a shaft down on
+to this secret but most precious vein of ore.
+
+I have said that my father was learned; but this is a mild description,
+for never did I know anyone quite so learned. He was one of those men
+who is so good all round that he became pre-eminent in nothing. A
+classic of the first water, a very respectable mathematician, an expert
+in theology, a student of sundry foreign languages and literature in
+his lighter moments, an inquirer into sociology, a theoretical musician
+though his playing of the organ excruciated most people because it was
+too correct, a really first-class authority upon flint instruments and
+the best grower of garden vegetables in the county, also of apples—such
+were some of his attainments. That was what made his sermons so
+popular, since at times one or the other of these subjects would break
+out into them, his theory being that God spoke to us through all of
+these things.
+
+But if I began to drift into an analysis of my father’s abilities, I
+should never stop. It would take a book to describe them. And yet mark
+this, with them all his name is as dead to the world to-day as though
+he had never been. Light reflected from a hundred facets dissipates
+itself in space and is lost; that concentrated in one tremendous ray
+pierces to the stars.
+
+Now I am going to be frank about myself, for without frankness what is
+the value of such a record as this? Then it becomes simply another
+convention, or rather conventional method of expressing the octoroon
+kind of truths with which the highly civilised races feed themselves,
+as fastidious ladies eat cakes and bread from which all but the
+smallest particle of nourishment has been extracted.
+
+The fact is, therefore, that I inherited most of my father’s abilities,
+except his love for flint instruments which always bored me to
+distraction, because although they are by association really the most
+human of things, somehow to me they never convey any idea of humanity.
+In addition I have a practical side which he lacked; had he possessed
+it surely he must have become an archbishop instead of dying the vicar
+of an unknown parish. Also I have a spiritual sense, mayhap mystical
+would be a better term, which with all this religion was missing from
+my father’s nature.
+
+For I think that notwithstanding his charity and devotion he never
+quite got away from the shell of things, never cracked it and set his
+teeth in the kernel which alone can feed our souls. His keen intellect,
+to take an example, recognised every one of the difficulties of our
+faith and flashed hither and thither in the darkness, seeking
+explanation, seeking light, trying to reconcile, to explain. He was not
+great enough to put all this aside and go straight to the informing
+Soul beneath that strives to express itself everywhere, even through
+those husks which are called the World, the Flesh and the Devil, and as
+yet does not always quite succeed.
+
+It is this boggling over exteriors, this peering into pitfalls, this
+desire to prove that what such senses as we have tell us is impossible,
+is in fact possible, which causes the overthrow of many an earnest,
+seeking heart and renders its work, conducted on false lines, quite
+nugatory. These _will_ trust to themselves and their own intelligence
+and not be content to spring from the cliffs of human experience into
+the everlasting arms of that Infinite which are stretched out to
+receive them and to give them rest and the keys of knowledge. When will
+man learn what was taught to him of old, that faith is the only plank
+wherewith he can float upon this sea and that his miserable works avail
+him nothing; also that it is a plank made of many sorts of wood,
+perhaps to suit our different weights?
+
+So to be honest, in a sense I believe myself to be my father’s
+superior, and I know that he agreed with me. Perhaps this is owing to
+the blood of my Scotch mother which mixed well with his own; perhaps
+because the essential spirit given to me, though cast in his mould, was
+in fact quite different—or of another alloy. Do we, I wonder, really
+understand that there are millions and billions of these alloys, so
+many indeed that Nature, or whatever is behind Nature, never uses the
+same twice over? That is why no two human beings are or ever will be
+quite identical. Their flesh, the body of their humiliation, is
+identical in all, any chemist will prove it to you, but that which
+animates the flesh is distinct and different because it comes from the
+home of that infinite variety which is necessary to the ultimate
+evolution of the good and bad that we symbolise as heaven and hell.
+
+Further, I had and to a certain extent still have another advantage
+over my father, which certainly came to me from my mother, who was, as
+I judge from all descriptions and such likenesses as remain of her, an
+extremely handsome woman. I was born much better looking. He was small
+and dark, a little man with deep-set eyes and beetling brows. I am also
+dark, but tall above the average, and well made. I do not know that I
+need say more about my personal appearance, to me not a very attractive
+subject, but the fact remains that they called me “handsome Humphrey”
+at the University, and I was the captain of my college boat and won
+many prizes at athletic sports when I had time to train for them.
+
+Until I went up to Oxford my father educated me, partly because he knew
+that he could do it better than anyone else, and partly to save school
+expenses. The experiment was very successful, as my love of all outdoor
+sports and of any small hazardous adventure that came to my hand, also
+of associating with fisherfolk whom the dangers of the deep make men
+among men, saved me from becoming a milksop. For the rest I learned
+more from my father, whom I always desired to please because I loved
+him, than I should have done at the best and most costly of schools.
+This was shown when at last I went to college with a scholarship, for
+there I did very well indeed, as search would still reveal.
+
+Here I had better set out some of my shortcomings, which in their sum
+have made a failure of me. Yes, a failure in the highest sense, though
+I trust what Stevenson calls “a faithful failure.” These have their
+root in fastidiousness and that lack of perseverance, which really
+means a lack of faith, again using the word in its higher and wider
+sense. For if one had real faith one would always persevere, knowing
+that in every work undertaken with high aim, there is an element of
+nobility, however humble and unrecognised that work may seem to be. God
+after all is the God of Work, it is written large upon the face of the
+Universe. I will not expand upon the thought; it would lead me too far
+afield, but those who have understanding will know what I mean.
+
+As regards what I interpret as fastidiousness, this is not very easy to
+express. Perhaps a definition will help. I am like a man with an
+over-developed sense of smell, who when walking through a foreign city,
+however clean and well kept, can always catch the evil savours that are
+inseparable from such cities. More, his keen perception of them
+interferes with all other perceptions and spoils his walks. The result
+is that in after years, whenever he thinks of that beautiful city, he
+remembers, not its historic buildings or its wide boulevards, or
+whatever it has to boast, but rather its ancient, fish-like smell. At
+least he remembers that first owing to this defect in his temperament.
+
+So it is with everything. A lovely woman is spoiled for such a one
+because she eats too much or has too high a voice; he does not care for
+his shooting because the scenery is flat, or for his fishing because
+the gnats bite as well as the trout. In short he is out of tune with
+the world as it is. Moreover, this is a quality which, where it exists,
+cannot be overcome; it affects day-labourers as well as gentlemen at
+large. It is bred in the bone.
+
+Probably the second failure-breeding fault, lack of perseverance, has
+its roots in the first, at any rate in my case. At least on leaving
+college with some reputation, I was called to the Bar where, owing to
+certain solicitor and other connections, I had a good opening. Also,
+owing to the excellence of my memory and powers of work, I began very
+well, making money even during my first year. Then, as it happened, a
+certain case came my way and, my leader falling ill suddenly after it
+was opened, was left in my hands. The man whose cause I was pleading
+was, I think, one of the biggest scoundrels it is possible to conceive.
+It was a will case and if he won, the effect would be to beggar two
+most estimable middle-aged women who were justly entitled to the
+property, to which end personally I am convinced he had committed
+forgery; the perjury that accompanied it I do not even mention.
+
+Well, he did win, thanks to me, and the estimable middle-aged ladies
+were beggared, and as I heard afterwards, driven to such extremities
+that one of them died of her misery and the other became a
+lodging-house keeper. The details do not matter, but I may explain that
+these ladies were unattractive in appearance and manner and broke down
+beneath my cross-examination which made them appear to be telling
+falsehoods, whereas they were only completely confused. Further, I
+invented an ingenious theory of the facts which, although the judge
+regarded it with suspicion, convinced an unusually stupid jury who gave
+me their verdict.
+
+Everybody congratulated me and at the time I was triumphant, especially
+as my leader had declared that our case was impossible. Afterwards,
+however, my conscience smote me sorely, so much so that arguing from
+the false premise of this business, I came to the conclusion that the
+practice of the Law was not suited to an honest man. I did not take the
+large view that such matters average themselves up and that if I had
+done harm in this instance, I might live to do good in many others, and
+perhaps become a just judge, even a great judge. Here I may mention
+that in after years, when I grew rich, I rescued that surviving old
+lady from her lodging-house, although to this day she does not know the
+name of her anonymous friend. So by degrees, without saying anything,
+for I kept on my chambers, I slipped out of practice, to the great
+disappointment of everybody connected with me, and took to authorship.
+
+A marvel came to pass, my first book was an enormous success. The whole
+world talked of it. A leading journal, delighted to have discovered
+someone, wrote it up; other journals followed suit to be in the
+movement. One of them, I remember, which had already dismissed it with
+three or four sneering lines, came out with a second and two-column
+notice. It sold like wildfire and I suppose had some merits, for it is
+still read, though few know that I wrote it, since fortunately it was
+published under a pseudonym.
+
+Again I was much elated and set to work to write another and, as I
+believe, a much better book. But jealousies had been excited by this
+leaping into fame of a totally unknown person, which were, moreover,
+accentuated through a foolish article that I published in answer to
+some criticisms, wherein I spoke my mind with an insane freedom and
+biting sarcasm. Indeed I was even mad enough to quote names and to give
+the example of the very powerful journal which at first carped at my
+work and then gushed over it when it became the fashion. All of this
+made me many bitter enemies, as I found out when my next book appeared.
+
+It was torn to shreds, it was reviled as subversive of morality and
+religion, good arrows in those days. It was called puerile,
+half-educated stuff—I half-educated! More, an utterly false charge of
+plagiarism was cooked up against me and so well and venomously run that
+vast numbers of people concluded that I was a thief of the lowest
+order. Lastly, my father, from whom the secret could no longer be kept,
+sternly disapproved of both these books which I admit were written from
+a very radical and somewhat anti-church point of view. The result was
+our first quarrel and before it was made up, he died suddenly.
+
+Now again fastidiousness and my lack of perseverance did their work,
+and solemnly I swore that I would never write another book, an oath
+which I have kept till this moment, at least so far as publication is
+concerned, and now break only because I consider it my duty so to do
+and am not animated by any pecuniary object.
+
+Thus came to an end my second attempt at carving out a career. By now I
+had grown savage and cynical, rather revengeful also, I fear. Knowing
+myself to possess considerable abilities in sundry directions, I sat
+down, as it were, to think things over and digest my past experiences.
+Then it was that the truth of a very ancient adage struck upon my mind,
+namely, that money is power. Had I sufficient money I could laugh at
+unjust critics for example; indeed they or their papers would scarcely
+dare to criticise me for fear lest it should be in my power to do them
+a bad turn. Again I could follow my own ideas in life and perhaps work
+good in the world, and live in such surroundings as commended
+themselves to me. It was as clear as daylight, but—how to make the
+money?
+
+I had some capital as the result of my father’s death, about £8,000 in
+all, plus a little more that my two books had brought in. In what way
+could I employ it to the best advantage? I remembered that a cousin of
+my father and therefore my own, was a successful stock-broker, also
+that there had been some affection between them. I went to him, he was
+a good, easy-natured man who was frankly glad to see me, and offered to
+put £5,000 into his business, for I was not minded to risk every thing
+I had, if he would give me a share in the profits. He laughed heartily
+at my audacity.
+
+“Why, my boy,” he said, “being totally inexperienced at this game, you
+might lose us more than that in a month. But I like your courage, I
+like your courage, and the truth is that I do want help. I will think
+it over and write to you.”
+
+He thought it over and in the end offered to try me for a year at a
+fixed salary with a promise of some kind of a partnership if I suited
+him. Meanwhile my £5,000 remained in my pocket.
+
+I accepted, not without reluctance since with the impatience of youth I
+wanted everything at once. I worked hard in that office and soon
+mastered the business, for my knowledge of figures—I had taken a
+first-class mathematical degree at college—came to my aid, as in a way
+did my acquaintance with Law and Literature. Moreover I had a certain
+aptitude for what is called high finance. Further, Fortune, as usual,
+showed me a favourable face.
+
+In one year I got the partnership with a small share in the large
+profits of the business. In two the partner above me retired, and I
+took his place with a third share of the firm. In three my cousin,
+satisfied that it was in able hands, began to cease his attendance at
+the office and betook himself to gardening which was his hobby. In four
+I paid him out altogether, although to do this I had to borrow money on
+our credit, for by agreement the title of the firm was continued. Then
+came that extraordinary time of boom which many will remember to their
+cost. I made a bold stroke and won. On a certain Saturday when the
+books were made up, I found that after discharging all liabilities, I
+should not be worth more than £20,000. On the following Saturday but
+two when the books were made up, I was worth £153,000! _L’appétit vient
+en mangeant_. It seemed nothing to me when so many were worth millions.
+
+For the next year I worked as few have done, and when I struck a
+balance at the end of it, I found that on the most conservative
+estimate I was the owner of a million and a half in hard cash, or its
+equivalent. I was so tired out that I remember this discovery did not
+excite me at all. I felt utterly weary of all wealth-hunting and of the
+City and its ways. Moreover my old fastidiousness and lack of
+perseverance re-asserted themselves. I reflected, rather late in the
+day perhaps, on the ruin that this speculation was bringing to
+thousands, of which some lamentable instances had recently come to my
+notice, and once more considered whether it were a suitable career for
+an upright man. I had wealth; why should I not take it and enjoy life?
+
+Also—and here my business acumen came in, I was sure that these times
+could not last. It is easy to make money on a rising market, but when
+it is falling the matter is very different. In five minutes I made up
+my mind. I sent for my junior partners, for I had taken in two, and
+told them that I intended to retire at once. They were dismayed both at
+my loss, for really I was the firm, and because, as they pointed out,
+if I withdrew all my capital, there would not be sufficient left to
+enable them to carry on.
+
+One of them, a blunt and honest man, said to my face that it would be
+dishonourable of me to do so. I was inclined to answer him sharply,
+then remembered that his words were true.
+
+“Very well,” I said, “I will leave you £600,000 on which you shall pay
+me five per cent interest, but no share of the profits.”
+
+On these terms we dissolved the partnership and in a year they had lost
+the £600,000, for the slump came with a vengeance. It saved them,
+however, and to-day they are earning a reasonable income. But I have
+never asked them for that £600,000.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+Bastin and Bickley
+
+
+Behold me once more a man without an occupation, but now the possessor
+of about £900,000. It was a very considerable fortune, if not a large
+one in England; nothing like the millions of which I had dreamed, but
+still enough. To make the most of it and to be sure that it remained, I
+invested it very well, mostly in large mortgages at four per cent
+which, if the security is good, do not depreciate in capital value.
+Never again did I touch a single speculative stock, who desired to
+think no more about money. It was at this time that I bought the
+Fulcombe property. It cost me about £120,000 of my capital, or with
+alterations, repairs, etc., say £150,000, on which sum it may pay a net
+two and a half per cent, not more.
+
+This £3,700 odd I have always devoted to the upkeep of the place, which
+is therefore in first-rate order. The rest I live on, or save.
+
+These arrangements, with the beautifying and furnishing of the house
+and the restoration of the church in memory of my father, occupied and
+amused me for a year or so, but when they were finished time began to
+hang heavy on my hands. What was the use of possessing about £20,000 a
+year when there was nothing upon which it could be spent? For after all
+my own wants were few and simple and the acquisition of valuable
+pictures and costly furniture is limited by space. Oh! in my small way
+I was like the weary King Ecclesiast. For I too made me great works and
+had possessions of great and small cattle (I tried farming and lost
+money over it!) and gathered me silver and gold and the peculiar
+treasure of kings, which I presume means whatever a man in authority
+chiefly desires, and so forth. But “behold all was vanity and vexation
+of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun.”
+
+So, notwithstanding my wealth and health and the deference which is the
+rich man’s portion, especially when the limit of his riches is not
+known, it came about that I too “hated life,” and this when I was not
+much over thirty. I did not know what to do; for Society as the word is
+generally understood, I had no taste; it bored me; horse-racing and
+cards I loathed, who had already gambled too much on a big scale. The
+killing of creatures under the name of sport palled upon me, indeed I
+began to doubt if it were right, while the office of a junior county
+magistrate in a place where there was no crime, only occupied me an
+hour or two a month.
+
+Lastly my neighbours were few and with all due deference to them,
+extremely dull. At least I could not understand them because in them
+there did not seem to be anything to understand, and I am quite certain
+that they did not understand me. More, when they came to learn that I
+was radical in my views and had written certain “dreadful” and somewhat
+socialistic books in the form of fiction, they both feared and
+mistrusted me as an enemy to their particular section of the race. As I
+had not married and showed no inclination to do so, their womenkind
+also, out of their intimate knowledge, proclaimed that I led an immoral
+life, though a little reflection would have shown them that there was
+no one in the neighbourhood which for a time I seldom left, who could
+possibly have tempted an educated creature to such courses.
+
+Terrible is the lot of a man who, while still young and possessing the
+intellect necessary to achievement, is deprived of all ambition. And I
+had none at all. I did not even wish to purchase a peerage or a
+baronetcy in this fashion or in that, and, as in my father’s case, my
+tastes were so many and so catholic that I could not lose myself in any
+one of them. They never became more than diversions to me. A hobby is
+only really amusing when it becomes an obsession.
+
+At length my lonesome friendlessness oppressed me so much that I took
+steps to mitigate it. In my college life I had two particular friends
+whom I think I must have selected because they were so absolutely
+different from myself.
+
+They were named Bastin and Bickley. Bastin—Basil was his Christian
+name—was an uncouth, shock-headed, flat-footed person of large, rugged
+frame and equally rugged honesty, with a mind almost incredibly simple.
+Nothing surprised him because he lacked the faculty of surprise. He was
+like that kind of fish which lies at the bottom of the sea and takes
+every kind of food into its great maw without distinguishing its
+flavour. Metaphorically speaking, heavenly manna and decayed cabbage
+were just the same to Bastin. He was not fastidious and both were
+mental pabulum—of a sort—together with whatever lay between these
+extremes. Yet he was good, so painfully good that one felt that without
+exertion to himself he had booked a first-class ticket straight to
+Heaven; indeed that his guardian angel had tied it round his neck at
+birth lest he should lose it, already numbered and dated like an
+identification disc.
+
+I am bound to add that Bastin never went wrong because he never felt
+the slightest temptation to do so. This I suppose constitutes real
+virtue, since, in view of certain Bible sayings, the person who is
+tempted and would like to yield to the temptation, is equally a sinner
+with the person who does yield. To be truly good one should be too good
+to be tempted, or too weak to make the effort worth the tempter’s
+while—in short not deserving of his powder and shot.
+
+I need hardly add that Bastin went into the Church; indeed, he could
+not have gone anywhere else; it absorbed him naturally, as doubtless
+Heaven will do in due course. Only I think it likely that until they
+get to know him he will bore the angels so much that they will
+continually move him up higher. Also if they have any susceptibilities
+left, probably he will tread upon their toes—an art in which I never
+knew his equal. However, I always loved Bastin, perhaps because no one
+else did, a fact of which he remained totally unconscious, or perhaps
+because of his brutal way of telling one what he conceived to be the
+truth, which, as he had less imagination than a dormouse, generally it
+was not. For if the truth is a jewel, it is one coloured and veiled by
+many different lights and atmospheres.
+
+It only remains to add that he was learned in his theological fashion
+and that among his further peculiarities were the slow, monotonous
+voice in which he uttered his views in long sentences, and his total
+indifference to adverse argument however sound and convincing.
+
+My other friend, Bickley, was a person of a quite different character.
+Like Bastin, he was learned, but his tendencies faced another way. If
+Bastin’s omnivorous throat could swallow a camel, especially a
+theological camel, Bickley’s would strain at the smallest gnat,
+especially a theological gnat. The very best and most upright of men,
+yet he believed in nothing that he could not taste, see or handle. He
+was convinced, for instance, that man is a brute-descended accident and
+no more, that what we call the soul or the mind is produced by a
+certain action of the grey matter of the brain; that everything
+apparently inexplicable has a perfectly mundane explanation, if only
+one could find it; that miracles certainly never did happen, and never
+will; that all religions are the fruit of human hopes and fears and the
+most convincing proof of human weakness; that notwithstanding our
+infinite variations we are the subjects of Nature’s single law and the
+victims of blind, black and brutal chance.
+
+Such was Bickley with his clever, well-cut face that always reminded me
+of a cameo, and thoughtful brow; his strong, capable hands and his
+rather steely mouth, the mere set of which suggested controversy of an
+uncompromising kind. Naturally as the Church had claimed Bastin, so
+medicine claimed Bickley.
+
+Now as it happened the man who succeeded my father as vicar of Fulcombe
+was given a better living and went away shortly after I had purchased
+the place and with it the advowson. Just at this time also I received a
+letter written in the large, sprawling hand of Bastin from whom I had
+not heard for years. It went straight to the point, saying that he,
+Bastin, had seen in a Church paper that the last incumbent had resigned
+the living of Fulcombe which was in my gift. He would therefore be
+obliged if I would give it to him as the place he was at in Yorkshire
+did not suit his wife’s health.
+
+Here I may state that afterwards I learned that what did not suit Mrs.
+Bastin was the organist, who was pretty. She was by nature a woman with
+a temperament so insanely jealous that actually she managed to be
+suspicious of Bastin, whom she had captured in an unguarded moment when
+he was thinking of something else and who would as soon have thought of
+even looking at any woman as he would of worshipping Baal. As a matter
+of fact it took him months to know one female from another. Except as
+possible providers of subscriptions and props of Mothers’ Meetings,
+women had no interest for him.
+
+To return—with that engaging honesty which I have mentioned—Bastin’s
+letter went on to set out all his own disabilities, which, he added,
+would probably render him unsuitable for the place he desired to fill.
+He was a High Churchman, a fact which would certainly offend many; he
+had no claims to being a preacher although he was extraordinarily well
+acquainted with the writings of the Early Fathers. (What on earth had
+that to do with the question, I wondered.) On the other hand he had
+generally been considered a good visitor and was fond of walking (he
+meant to call on distant parishioners, but did not say so).
+
+Then followed a page and a half on the evils of the existing system of
+the presentation to livings by private persons, ending with the
+suggestion that I had probably committed a sin in buying this
+particular advowson in order to increase my local authority, that is,
+if I had bought it, a point on which he was ignorant. Finally he
+informed me that as he had to christen a sick baby five miles away on a
+certain moor and it was too wet for him to ride his bicycle, he must
+stop. And he stopped.
+
+There was, however, a P.S. to the letter, which ran as follows:
+
+“Someone told me that you were dead a few years ago, and of course it
+may be another man of the same name who owns Fulcombe. If so, no doubt
+the Post Office will send back this letter.”
+
+That was his only allusion to my humble self in all those diffuse
+pages. It was a long while since I had received an epistle which made
+me laugh so much, and of course I gave him the living by return of
+post, and even informed him that I would increase its stipend to a sum
+which I considered suitable to the position.
+
+About ten days later I received another letter from Bastin which, as a
+scrawl on the flap of the envelope informed me, he had carried for a
+week in his pocket and forgotten to post. Except by inference it
+returned no thanks for my intended benefits. What it did say, however,
+was that he thought it wrong of me to have settled a matter of such
+spiritual importance in so great a hurry, though he had observed that
+rich men were nearly always selfish where their time was concerned.
+Moreover, he considered that I ought first to have made inquiries as to
+his present character and attainments, etc., etc.
+
+To this epistle I replied by telegraph to the effect that I should as
+soon think of making inquiries about the character of an archangel, or
+that of one of his High Church saints. This telegram, he told me
+afterwards, he considered unseemly and even ribald, especially as it
+had given great offence to the postmaster, who was one of the sidesmen
+in his church.
+
+Thus it came about that I appointed the Rev. Basil Bastin to the living
+of Fulcombe, feeling sure that he would provide me with endless
+amusement and act as a moral tonic and discipline. Also I appreciated
+the man’s blunt candour. In due course he arrived, and I confess that
+after a few Sundays of experience I began to have doubts as to the
+wisdom of my choice, glad as I was to see him personally. His sermons
+at once bored me, and, when they did not send me to sleep, excited in
+me a desire for debate. How could he be so profoundly acquainted with
+mysteries before which the world had stood amazed for ages? Was there
+nothing too hot or too heavy in the spiritual way for him to dismiss in
+a few blundering and casual words, as he might any ordinary incident of
+every-day life, I wondered? Also his idea of High Church observances
+was not mine, or, I imagine, that of anybody else. But I will not
+attempt to set it out.
+
+His peculiarities, however, were easy to excuse and entirely swallowed
+up by the innate goodness of his nature which soon made him beloved of
+everyone in the place, for although he thought that probably most
+things were sins, I never knew him to discover a sin which he
+considered to be beyond the reach of forgiveness. Bastin was indeed a
+most charitable man and in his way wide-minded.
+
+The person whom I could not tolerate, however, was his wife, who, to my
+fancy, more resembled a vessel, a very unattractive vessel, full of
+vinegar than a woman. Her name was Sarah and she was small, plain,
+flat, sandy-haired and odious, quite obsessed, moreover, with her
+jealousies of the Rev. Basil, at whom it pleased her to suppose that
+every woman in the countryside under fifty was throwing herself.
+
+Here I will confess that to the best of my ability I took care that
+they did in outward seeming, that is, whenever she was present,
+instructing them to sit aside with him in darkened corners, to present
+him with flowers, and so forth. Several of them easily fell into the
+humour of the thing, and I have seen him depart from a dinner-party
+followed by that glowering Sarah, with a handful of rosebuds and
+violets, to say nothing of the traditional offerings of slippers,
+embroidered markers and the like. Well, it was my only way of coming
+even with her, which I think she knew, for she hated me poisonously.
+
+So much for Basil Bastin. Now for Bickley. Him I had met on several
+occasions since our college days, and after I was settled at the Priory
+from time to time I asked him to stay with me. At length he came, and I
+found out that he was not at all comfortable in his London practice
+which was of a nature uncongenial to him; further, that he did not get
+on with his partners. Then, after reflection, I made a suggestion to
+him. I pointed out that, owing to its popularity amongst seaside
+visitors, the neighbourhood of Fulcombe was a rising one, and that
+although there were doctors in it, there was no really first-class
+surgeon for miles.
+
+Now Bickley was a first-class surgeon, having held very high hospital
+appointments, and indeed still holding them. Why, I asked, should he
+not come and set up here on his own? I would appoint him doctor to the
+estate and also give him charge of a cottage hospital which I was
+endowing, with liberty to build and arrange it as he liked. Further, as
+I considered that it would be of great advantage to me to have a man of
+real ability within reach, I would guarantee for three years whatever
+income he was earning in London.
+
+He thanked me warmly and in the end acted on the idea, with startling
+results so far as his prospects were concerned. Very soon his really
+remarkable skill became known and he was earning more money than as an
+unmarried man he could possibly want. Indeed, scarcely a big operation
+took place at any town within twenty miles, and even much farther away,
+at which he was not called in to assist.
+
+Needless to say his advent was a great boon to me, for as he lived in a
+house I let him quite near by, whenever he had a spare evening he would
+drop in to dinner, and from our absolutely opposite standpoints we
+discussed all things human and divine. Thus I was enabled to sharpen my
+wits upon the hard steel of his clear intellect which was yet, in a
+sense, so limited.
+
+I must add that I never converted him to my way of thinking and he
+never converted me to his, any more than he converted Bastin, for whom,
+queerly enough, he had a liking. They pounded away at each other,
+Bickley frequently getting the best of it in the argument, and when at
+last Bastin rose to go, he generally made the same remark. It was:
+
+“It really is sad, my dear Bickley, to find a man of your intellect so
+utterly wrongheaded and misguided. I have convicted you of error at
+least half a dozen times, and not to confess it is mere pigheadedness.
+Good night. I am sure that Sarah will be sitting up for me.”
+
+“Silly old idiot!” Bickley would say, shaking his fist after him. “The
+only way to get him to see the truth would be to saw his head open and
+pour it in.”
+
+Then we would both laugh.
+
+Such were my two most intimate friends, although I admit it was rather
+like the equator cultivating close relationships with the north and
+south poles. Certainly Bastin was as far from Bickley as those points
+of the earth are apart, while I, as it were, sat equally distant
+between the two. However, we were all very happy together, since in
+certain characters, there are few things that bind men more closely
+than profound differences of opinion.
+
+Now I must turn to my more personal affairs. After all, it is
+impossible for a man to satisfy his soul, if he has anything of the
+sort about him which in the remotest degree answers to that
+description, with the husks of wealth, luxury and indolence,
+supplemented by occasional theological and other arguments between his
+friends. Becoming profoundly convinced of this truth, I searched round
+for something to do and, like Noah’s dove on the waste of waters, found
+nothing. Then I asked Bickley and Bastin for their opinions as to my
+best future course. Bickley proved a barren draw. He rubbed his nose
+and feebly suggested that I might go in for “research work,” which, of
+course, only represented his own ambitions. I asked him indignantly how
+I could do such a thing without any scientific qualifications whatever.
+He admitted the difficulty, but replied that I might endow others who
+had the qualifications.
+
+“In short, become a milch cow for sucking scientists,” I replied, and
+broke off the conversation.
+
+Bastin’s idea was, first, that I should teach in a Sunday School;
+secondly, that if this career did not satisfy all my aspirations, I
+might be ordained and become a missionary.
+
+On my rejection of this brilliant advice, he remarked that the only
+other thing he could think of was that I should get married and have a
+large family, which might possibly advantage the nation and ultimately
+enrich the Kingdom of Heaven, though of such things no one could be
+quite sure. At any rate, he was certain that at present I was in
+practice neglecting my duty, whatever it might be, and in fact one of
+those cumberers of the earth who, he observed in the newspaper he took
+in and read when he had time, were “very happily named—the idle rich.”
+
+“Which reminds me,” he added, “that the clothing-club finances are in a
+perfectly scandalous condition; in fact, it is £25 in debt, an amount
+that as the squire of the parish I consider it incumbent on you to make
+good, not as a charity but as an obligation.”
+
+“Look here, my friend,” I said, ignoring all the rest, “will you answer
+me a plain question? Have you found marriage such a success that you
+consider it your duty to recommend it to others? And if you have, why
+have _you_ not got the large family of which you speak?”
+
+“Of course not,” he replied with his usual frankness. “Indeed, it is in
+many ways so disagreeable that I am convinced it must be right and for
+the good of all concerned. As regards the family I am sure I do not
+know, but Sarah never liked babies, which perhaps has something to do
+with it.”
+
+Then he sighed, adding, “You see, Arbuthnot, we have to take things as
+we find them in this world and hope for a better.”
+
+“Which is just what I am trying to do, you unilluminating old donkey!”
+I exclaimed, and left him there shaking his head over matters in
+general, but I think principally over Sarah.
+
+By the way, I think that the villagers recognised this good lady’s
+vinegary nature. At least, they used to call her “Sour Sal.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+Natalie
+
+
+Now what Bastin had said about marriage stuck in my mind as his
+blundering remarks had a way of doing, perhaps because of the grain of
+honest truth with which they were often permeated. Probably in my
+position it was more or less my duty to marry. But here came the rub; I
+had never experienced any leanings that way. I was as much a man as
+others, more so than many are, perhaps, and I liked women, but at the
+same time they repelled me.
+
+My old fastidiousness came in; to my taste there was always something
+wrong about them. While they attracted one part of my nature they
+revolted another part, and on the whole I preferred to do without their
+intimate society, rather than work violence to this second and higher
+part of me. Moreover, quite at the beginning of my career I had
+concluded from observation that a man gets on better in life alone,
+rather than with another to drag at his side, or by whom perhaps he
+must be dragged. Still true marriage, such as most men and some women
+have dreamed of in their youth, had always been one of my ideals;
+indeed it was on and around this vision that I wrote that first book of
+mine which was so successful. Since I knew this to be unattainable in
+our imperfect conditions, however, notwithstanding Bastin’s strictures,
+again I dismissed the whole matter from my mind as a vain imagination.
+
+As an alternative I reflected upon a parliamentary career which I was
+not too old to begin, and even toyed with one or two opportunities that
+offered themselves, as these do to men of wealth and advanced views.
+They never came to anything, for in the end I decided that Party
+politics were so hateful and so dishonest, that I could not bring
+myself to put my neck beneath their yoke. I was sure that if I tried to
+do so, I should fail more completely than I had done at the Bar and in
+Literature. Here, too, I am quite certain that I was right.
+
+The upshot of it all was that I sought refuge in that last expedient of
+weary Englishmen, travel, not as a globe-trotter, but leisurely and
+with an inquiring mind, learning much but again finding, like the
+ancient writer whom I have quoted already, that there is no new thing
+under the sun; that with certain variations it is the same thing over
+and over again.
+
+No, I will make an exception, the East did interest me enormously.
+There it was, at Benares, that I came into touch with certain thinkers
+who opened my eyes to a great deal. They released some hidden spring in
+my nature which hitherto had always been striving to break through the
+crust of our conventions and inherited ideas. I know now that what I
+was seeking was nothing less than the Infinite; that I had “immortal
+longings in me.” I listened to all their solemn talk of epochs and
+years measureless to man, and reflected with a thrill that after all
+man might have his part in every one of them. Yes, that bird of passage
+as he seemed to be, flying out of darkness into darkness, still he
+might have spread his wings in the light of other suns millions upon
+millions of years ago, and might still spread them, grown radiant and
+glorious, millions upon millions of years hence in a time unborn.
+
+If only I could know the truth. Was Life (according to Bickley) merely
+a short activity bounded by nothingness before and behind; or
+(according to Bastin) a conventional golden-harped and haloed
+immortality, a word of which he did not in the least understand the
+meaning?
+
+Or was it something quite different from either of these, something
+vast and splendid beyond the reach of vision, something God-sent,
+beginning and ending in the Eternal Absolute and at last partaking of
+His attributes and nature and from aeon to aeon shot through with His
+light? And how was the truth to be learned? I asked my Eastern friends,
+and they talked vaguely of long ascetic preparation, of years upon
+years of learning, from whom I could not quite discover. I was sure it
+could not be from them, because clearly they did not know; they only
+passed on what they had heard elsewhere, when or how they either could
+not or would not explain. So at length I gave it up, having satisfied
+myself that all this was but an effort of Oriental imagination called
+into life by the sweet influences of the Eastern stars.
+
+I gave it up and went away, thinking that I should forget. But I did
+not forget. I was quick with a new hope, or at any rate with a new
+aspiration, and that secret child of holy desire grew and grew within
+my soul, till at length it flashed upon me that this soul of mine was
+itself the hidden Master from which I must learn my lesson. No wonder
+that those Eastern friends could not give his name, seeing that
+whatever they really knew, as distinguished from what they had heard,
+and it was little enough, each of them had learned from the teaching of
+his own soul.
+
+Thus, then, I too became a dreamer with only one longing, the longing
+for wisdom, for that spirit touch which should open my eyes and enable
+me to see.
+
+Yet now it happened strangely enough that when I seemed within myself
+to have little further interest in the things of the world, and least
+of all in women, I, who had taken another guest to dwell with me, those
+things of the world came back to me and in the shape of Woman the
+Inevitable. Probably it was so decreed since is it not written that no
+man can live to himself alone, or lose himself in watching and
+nurturing the growth of his own soul?
+
+It happened thus. I went to Rome on my way home from India, and stayed
+there a while. On the day after my arrival I wrote my name in the book
+of our Minister to Italy at that time, Sir Alfred Upton, not because I
+wished him to ask me to dinner, but for the reason that I had heard of
+him as a man of archæological tastes and thought that he might enable
+me to see things which otherwise I should not see.
+
+As it chanced he knew about me through some of my Devonshire neighbours
+who were friends of his, and did ask me to dinner on the following
+night. I accepted and found myself one of a considerable party, some of
+them distinguished English people who wore Orders, as is customary when
+one dines with the representative of our Sovereign. Seeing these, and
+this shows that in the best of us vanity is only latent, for the first
+time in my life I was sorry that I had none and was only plain Mr.
+Arbuthnot who, as Sir Alfred explained to me politely, must go in to
+dinner last, because all the rest had titles, and without even a lady
+as there was not one to spare.
+
+Nor was my lot bettered when I got there, as I found myself seated
+between an Italian countess and a Russian prince, neither of whom could
+talk English, while, alas, I knew no foreign language, not even French
+in which they addressed me, seeming surprised that I did not understand
+them. I was humiliated at my own ignorance, although in fact I was not
+ignorant, only my education had been classical. Indeed I was a good
+classic and had kept up my knowledge more or less, especially since I
+became an idle man. In my confusion it occurred to me that the Italian
+countess might know Latin from which her own language was derived, and
+addressed her in that tongue. She stared, and Sir Alfred, who was not
+far off and overheard me (he also knew Latin), burst into laughter and
+proceeded to explain the joke in a loud voice, first in French and then
+in English, to the assembled company, who all became infected with
+merriment and also stared at me as a curiosity.
+
+Then it was that for the first time I saw Natalie, for owing to a
+mistake of my driver I had arrived rather late and had not been
+introduced to her. As her father’s only daughter, her mother being
+dead, she was seated at the end of the table behind a fan-like
+arrangement of white Madonna lilies, and she had bent forward and, like
+the others, was looking at me, but in such a fashion that her head from
+that distance seemed as though it were surrounded and crowned with
+lilies. Indeed the greatest art could not have produced a more
+beautiful effect which was, however, really one of naked accident.
+
+An angel looking down upon earth through the lilies of Heaven—that was
+the rather absurd thought which flashed into my mind. I did not quite
+realise her face at first except that it seemed to be both dark and
+fair; as a fact her waving hair which grew rather low upon her
+forehead, was dark, and her large, soft eyes were grey. I did not know,
+and to this moment I do not know if she was really beautiful, but
+certainly the light that shone through those eyes of hers and seemed to
+be reflected upon her delicate features, was beauty itself. It was like
+that glowing through a thin vase of the purest alabaster within which a
+lamp is placed, and I felt this effect to arise from no chance, like
+that of the lily-setting, but, as it were, from the lamp of the spirit
+within.
+
+Our eyes met, and I suppose that she saw the wonder and admiration in
+mine. At any rate her amused smile faded, leaving the face rather
+serious, though still sweetly serious, and a tinge of colour crept over
+it as the first hue of dawn creeps into a pearly sky. Then she withdrew
+herself behind the screen of lilies and for the rest of that dinner
+which I thought was never coming to an end, practically I saw her no
+more. Only I noted as she passed out that although not tall, she was
+rounded and graceful in shape and that her hands were peculiarly
+delicate.
+
+Afterwards in the drawing-room her father, with whom I had talked at
+the table, introduced me to her, saying:
+
+“My daughter is the real archaeologist, Mr. Arbuthnot, and I think if
+you ask her, she may be able to help you.”
+
+Then he bustled away to speak to some of his important guests, from
+whom I think he was seeking political information.
+
+“My father exaggerates,” she said in a soft and very sympathetic voice,
+“but perhaps”—and she motioned me to a seat at her side.
+
+Then we talked of the places and things that I more particularly
+desired to see and, well, the end of it was that I went back to my
+hotel in love with Natalie; and as she afterwards confessed, she went
+to bed in love with me.
+
+It was a curious business, more like meeting a very old friend from
+whom one had been separated by circumstances for a score of years or so
+than anything else. We were, so to speak, intimate from the first; we
+knew all about each other, although here and there was something new,
+something different which we could not remember, lines of thought,
+veins of memory which we did not possess in common. On one point I am
+absolutely clear: it was not solely the everyday and ancient appeal of
+woman to man and man to woman which drew us together, though doubtless
+this had its part in our attachment as under our human conditions it
+must do, seeing that it is Nature’s bait to ensure the continuance of
+the race. It was something more, something quite beyond that elementary
+impulse.
+
+At any rate we loved, and one evening in the shelter of the solemn
+walls of the great Coliseum at Rome, which at that hour were shut to
+all except ourselves, we confessed our love. I really think we must
+have chosen the spot by tacit but mutual consent because we felt it to
+be fitting. It was so old, so impregnated with every human experience,
+from the direst crime of the tyrant who thought himself a god, to the
+sublimest sacrifice of the martyr who already was half a god; with
+every vice and virtue also which lies between these extremes, that it
+seemed to be the most fitting altar whereon to offer our hearts and all
+that caused them to beat, each to the other.
+
+So Natalie and I were betrothed within a month of our first meeting.
+Within three we were married, for what was there to prevent or delay?
+Naturally Sir Alfred was delighted, seeing that he possessed but small
+private resources and I was able to make ample provision for his
+daughter who had hitherto shown herself somewhat difficult in this
+business of matrimony and now was bordering on her twenty-seventh year.
+Everybody was delighted, everything went smoothly as a sledge sliding
+down a slope of frozen snow and the mists of time hid whatever might be
+at the end of that slope. Probably a plain; at the worst the upward
+rise of ordinary life.
+
+That is what we thought, if we thought at all. Certainly we never
+dreamed of a precipice. Why should we, who were young, by comparison,
+quite healthy and very rich? Who thinks of precipices under such
+circumstances, when disaster seems to be eliminated and death is yet a
+long way off?
+
+And yet we ought to have done so, because we should have known that
+smooth surfaces without impediment to the runners often end in
+something of the kind.
+
+I am bound to say that when we returned home to Fulcombe, where of
+course we met with a great reception, including the ringing (out of
+tune) of the new peal of bells that I had given to the church, Bastin
+made haste to point this out.
+
+“Your wife seems a very nice and beautiful lady, Arbuthnot,” he
+reflected aloud after dinner, when Mrs. Bastin, glowering as usual,
+though what at I do not know, had been escorted from the room by
+Natalie, “and really, when I come to think of it, you are an unusually
+fortunate person. You possess a great deal of money, much more than you
+have any right to; which you seem to have done very little to earn and
+do not spend quite as I should like you to do, and this nice property,
+that ought to be owned by a great number of people, as, according to
+the views you express, I should have thought you would acknowledge, and
+everything else that a man can want. It is very strange that you should
+be so favoured and not because of any particular merits of your own
+which one can see. However, I have no doubt it will all come even in
+the end and you will get your share of troubles, like others. Perhaps
+Mrs. Arbuthnot will have no children as there is so much for them to
+take. Or perhaps you will lose all your money and have to work for your
+living, which might be good for you. Or,” he added, still thinking
+aloud after his fashion, “perhaps she will die young—she has that kind
+of face, although, of course, I hope she won’t,” he added, waking up.
+
+I do not know why, but his wandering words struck me cold; the
+proverbial funeral bell at the marriage feast was nothing to them. I
+suppose it was because in a flash of intuition I knew that they would
+come true and that he was an appointed Cassandra. Perhaps this uncanny
+knowledge overcame my natural indignation at such super-_gaucherie_ of
+which no one but Bastin could have been capable, and even prevented me
+from replying at all, so that I merely sat still and looked at him.
+
+But Bickley did reply with some vigour.
+
+“Forgive me for saying so, Bastin,” he said, bristling all over as it
+were, “but your remarks, which may or may not be in accordance with the
+principles of your religion, seem to me to be in singularly bad taste.
+They would have turned the stomachs of a gathering of early Christians,
+who appear to have been the worst mannered people in the world, and at
+any decent heathen feast your neck would have been wrung as that of a
+bird of ill omen.”
+
+“Why?” asked Bastin blankly. “I only said what I thought to be the
+truth. The truth is better than what you call good taste.”
+
+“Then I will say what I think also to be the truth,” replied Bickley,
+growing furious. “It is that you use your Christianity as a cloak for
+bad manners. It teaches consideration and sympathy for others of which
+you seem to have none. Moreover, since you talk of the death of
+people’s wives, I will tell you something about your own, as a doctor,
+which I can do as I never attended her. It is highly probable, in my
+opinion, that she will die before Mrs. Arbuthnot, who is quite a
+healthy person with a good prospect of life.”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Bastin. “If so, it will be God’s will and I shall not
+complain” (here Bickley snorted), “though I do not see what you can
+know about it. But why should you cast reflections on the early
+Christians who were people of strong principle living in rough times,
+and had to wage war against an established devil-worship? I know you
+are angry because they smashed up the statues of Venus and so forth,
+but had I been in their place I should have done the same.”
+
+“Of course you would, who doubts it? But as for the early Christians
+and their iconoclastic performances—well, curse them, that’s all!” and
+he sprang up and left the room.
+
+I followed him.
+
+Let it not be supposed from the above scene that there was any
+ill-feeling between Bastin and Bickley. On the contrary they were much
+attached to each other, and this kind of quarrel meant no more than the
+strong expression of their individual views to which they were
+accustomed from their college days. For instance Bastin was always
+talking about the early Christians and missionaries, while Bickley
+loathed both, the early Christians because of the destruction which
+they had wrought in Egypt, Italy, Greece and elsewhere, of all that was
+beautiful; and the missionaries because, as he said, they were
+degrading and spoiling the native races and by inducing them to wear
+clothes, rendering them liable to disease. Bastin would answer that
+their souls were more important than their bodies, to which Bickley
+replied that as there was no such thing as a soul except in the stupid
+imagination of priests, he differed entirely on the point. As it was
+quite impossible for either to convince the other, there the
+conversation would end, or drift into something in which they were
+mutually interested, such as natural history and the hygiene of the
+neighbourhood.
+
+Here I may state that Bickley’s keen professional eye was not mistaken
+when he diagnosed Mrs. Bastin’s state of health as dangerous. As a
+matter of fact she was suffering from heart disease that a doctor can
+often recognise by the colour of the lips, etc., which brought about
+her death under the following circumstances:
+
+Her husband attended some ecclesiastical function at a town over twenty
+miles away and was to have returned by a train which would have brought
+him home about five o’clock. As he did not arrive she waited at the
+station for him until the last train came in about seven
+o’clock—without the beloved Basil. Then, on a winter’s night she tore
+up to the Priory and begged me to lend her a dog-cart in which to drive
+to the said town to look for him. I expostulated against the folly of
+such a proceeding, saying that no doubt Basil was safe enough but had
+forgotten to telegraph, or thought that he would save the sixpence
+which the wire cost.
+
+Then it came out, to Natalie’s and my intense amusement, that all this
+was the result of her jealous nature of which I have spoken. She said
+she had never slept a night away from her husband since they were
+married and with so many “designing persons” about she could not say
+what might happen if she did so, especially as he was “such a favourite
+and so handsome.” (Bastin was a fine looking man in his rugged way.)
+
+I suggested that she might have a little confidence in him, to which
+she replied darkly that she had no confidence in anybody.
+
+The end of it was that I lent her the cart with a fast horse and a good
+driver, and off she went. Reaching the town in question some two and a
+half hours later, she searched high and low through wind and sleet, but
+found no Basil. He, it appeared, had gone on to Exeter, to look at the
+cathedral where some building was being done, and missing the last
+train had there slept the night.
+
+About one in the morning, after being nearly locked up as a mad woman,
+she drove back to the Vicarage, again to find no Basil. Even then she
+did not go to bed but raged about the house in her wet clothes, until
+she fell down utterly exhausted. When her husband did return on the
+following morning, full of information about the cathedral, she was
+dangerously ill, and actually passed away while uttering a violent
+tirade against him for his supposed suspicious proceedings.
+
+That was the end of this truly odious British matron.
+
+In after days Bastin, by some peculiar mental process, canonised her in
+his imagination as a kind of saint. “So loving,” he would say, “such a
+devoted wife! Why, my dear Humphrey, I can assure you that even in the
+midst of her death-struggle her last thoughts were of me,” words that
+caused Bickley to snort with more than usual vigour, until I kicked him
+to silence beneath the table.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+Death and Departure
+
+
+Now I must tell of my own terrible sorrow, which turned my life to
+bitterness and my hopes to ashes.
+
+Never were a man and a woman happier together than I and Natalie.
+Mentally, physically, spiritually we were perfectly mated, and we loved
+each other dearly. Truly we were as one. Yet there was something about
+her which filled me with vague fears, especially after she found that
+she was to become a mother. I would talk to her of the child, but she
+would sigh and shake her head, her eyes filling with tears, and say
+that we must not count on the continuance of such happiness as ours,
+for it was too great.
+
+I tried to laugh away her doubts, though whenever I did so I seemed to
+hear Bastin’s slow voice remarking casually that she might die, as he
+might have commented on the quality of the claret. At last, however, I
+grew terrified and asked her bluntly what she meant.
+
+“I don’t quite know, dearest,” she replied, “especially as I am
+wonderfully well. But—but—”
+
+“But what?” I asked.
+
+“But I think that our companionship is going to be broken for a little
+while.”
+
+“For a little while!” I exclaimed.
+
+“Yes, Humphrey. I think that I shall be taken away from you—you know
+what I mean,” and she nodded towards the churchyard.
+
+“Oh, my God!” I groaned.
+
+“I want to say this,” she added quickly, “that if such a thing should
+happen, as it happens every day, I implore you, dearest Humphrey, not
+to be too much distressed, since I am sure that you will find me again.
+No, I can’t explain how or when or where, because I do not know. I have
+prayed for light, but it has not come to me. All I know is that I am
+not talking of reunion in Mr. Bastin’s kind of conventional heaven,
+which he speaks about as though to reach it one stumbled through
+darkness for a minute into a fine new house next door, where excellent
+servants had made everything ready for your arrival and all the lights
+were turned up. It is something quite different from that and very much
+more real.”
+
+Then she bent down ostensibly to pat the head of a little black cocker
+spaniel called Tommy which had been given to her as a puppy, a highly
+intelligent and affectionate animal that we both adored and that loved
+her as only a dog can love. Really, I knew, it was to hide her tears,
+and fled from the room lest she should see mine.
+
+As I went I heard the dog whimpering in a peculiar way, as though some
+sympathetic knowledge had been communicated to its wonderful animal
+intelligence.
+
+That night I spoke to Bickley about the matter, repeating exactly what
+had passed. As I expected, he smiled in his grave, rather sarcastic
+way, and made light of it.
+
+“My dear Humphrey,” he said, “don’t torment yourself about such
+fancies. They are of everyday occurrence among women in your wife’s
+condition. Sometimes they take one form, sometimes another. When she
+has got her baby you will hear no more of them.”
+
+I tried to be comforted but in vain.
+
+The days and weeks went by like a long nightmare and in due course the
+event happened. Bickley was not attending the case; it was not in his
+line, he said, and he preferred that where a friend’s wife was
+concerned, somebody else should be called in. So it was put in charge
+of a very good local man with a large experience in such domestic
+matters.
+
+How am I to tell of it? Everything went wrong; as for the details, let
+them be. Ultimately Bickley did operate, and if surpassing skill could
+have saved her, it would have been done. But the other man had
+misjudged the conditions; it was too late, nothing could help either
+mother or child, a little girl who died shortly after she was born but
+not before she had been christened, also by the name of Natalie.
+
+I was called in to say farewell to my wife and found her radiant,
+triumphant even in her weakness.
+
+“I know now,” she whispered in a faint voice. “I understood as the
+chloroform passed away, but I cannot tell you. Everything is quite
+well, my darling. Go where you seem called to go, far away. Oh! the
+wonderful place in which you will find me, not knowing that you have
+found me. Good-bye for a little while; only for a little while, my own,
+my own!”
+
+Then she died. And for a time I too seemed to die, but could not. I
+buried her and the child here at Fulcombe; or rather I buried their
+ashes since I could not endure that her beloved body should see
+corruption.
+
+Afterwards, when all was over, I spoke of these last words of Natalie’s
+with both Bickley and Bastin, for somehow I seemed to wish to learn
+their separate views.
+
+The latter I may explain, had been present at the end in his spiritual
+capacity, but I do not think that he in the least understood the nature
+of the drama which was passing before his eyes. His prayers and the
+christening absorbed all his attention, and he never was a man who
+could think of more than one thing at a time.
+
+When I told him exactly what had happened and repeated the words that
+Natalie spoke, he was much interested in his own nebulous way, and said
+that it was delightful to meet with an example of a good Christian,
+such as my wife had been, who actually saw something of Heaven before
+she had gone there. His own faith was, he thanked God, fairly robust,
+but still an undoubted occurrence of the sort acted as a refreshment,
+“like rain on a pasture when it is rather dry, you know,” he added,
+breaking into simile.
+
+I remarked that she had not seemed to speak in the sense he indicated,
+but appeared to allude to something quite near at hand and more or less
+immediate.
+
+“I don’t know that there is anything nearer at hand than the
+Hereafter,” he answered. “I expect she meant that you will probably
+soon die and join her in Paradise, if you are worthy to do so. But of
+course it is not wise to put too much reliance upon words spoken by
+people at the last, because often they don’t quite know what they are
+saying. Indeed sometimes I think this was so in the case of my own
+wife, who really seemed to me to talk a good deal of rubbish. Good-bye,
+I promised to see Widow Jenkins this afternoon about having her
+varicose veins cut out, and I mustn’t stop here wasting time in
+pleasant conversation. She thinks just as much of her varicose veins as
+we do of the loss of our wives.”
+
+I wonder what Bastin’s ideas of _unpleasant_ conversation may be,
+thought I to myself, as I watched him depart already wool-gathering on
+some other subject, probably the heresy of one of those “early fathers”
+who occupied most of his thoughts.
+
+Bickley listened to my tale in sympathetic silence, as a doctor does to
+a patient. When he was obliged to speak, he said that it was
+interesting as an example of a tendency of certain minds towards
+romantic vision which sometimes asserts itself, even in the throes of
+death.
+
+“You know,” he added, “that I put faith in none of these things. I wish
+that I could, but reason and science both show me that they lack
+foundation. The world on the whole is a sad place, where we arrive
+through the passions of others implanted in them by Nature, which,
+although it cares nothing for individual death, is tender towards the
+impulse of races of every sort to preserve their collective life.
+Indeed the impulse _is_ Nature, or at least its chief manifestation.
+Consequently, whether we be gnats or elephants, or anything between and
+beyond, even stars for aught I know, we must make the best of things as
+they are, taking the good and the evil as they come and getting all we
+can out of life until it leaves us, after which we need not trouble.
+You had a good time for a little while and were happy in it; now you
+are having a bad time and are wretched. Perhaps in the future, when
+your mental balance has re-asserted itself, you will have other good
+times in the afternoon of your days, and then follow twilight and the
+dark. That is all there is to hope for, and we may as well look the
+thing in the face. Only I confess, my dear fellow, that your experience
+convinces me that marriage should be avoided at whatever inconvenience.
+Indeed I have long wondered that anyone can take the responsibility of
+bringing a child into the world. But probably nobody does in cold
+blood, except misguided idiots like Bastin,” he added. “He would have
+twenty, had not his luck intervened.”
+
+“Then you believe in nothing, Friend,” I said.
+
+“Nothing, I am sorry to say, except what I see and my five senses
+appreciate.”
+
+“You reject all possibility of miracle, for instance?”
+
+“That depends on what you mean by miracle. Science shows us all kinds
+of wonders which our great grandfathers would have called miracles, but
+these are nothing but laws that we are beginning to understand. Give me
+an instance.”
+
+“Well,” I replied at hazard, “if you were assured by someone that a man
+could live for a thousand years?”
+
+“I should tell him that he was a fool or a liar, that is all. It is
+impossible.”
+
+“Or that the same identity, spirit, animating principle—call it what
+you will—can flit from body to body, say in successive ages? Or that
+the dead can communicate with the living?”
+
+“Convince me of any of these things, Arbuthnot, and mind you I desire
+to be convinced, and I will take back every word I have said and walk
+through Fulcombe in a white sheet proclaiming myself the fool. Now, I
+must get off to the Cottage Hospital to cut out Widow Jenkins’s
+varicose veins. They are tangible and real at any rate; about the
+largest I ever saw, indeed. Give up dreams, old boy, and take to
+something useful. You might go back to your fiction writing; you seem
+to have leanings that way, and you know you need not publish the
+stories, except privately for the edification of your friends.”
+
+With this Parthian shaft Bickley took his departure to make a job of
+Widow Jenkins’s legs.
+
+I took his advice. During the next few months I did write something
+which occupied my thoughts for a while, more or less. It lies in my
+safe to this minute, for somehow I have never been able to make up my
+mind to burn what cost me so much physical and mental toil.
+
+When it was finished my melancholy returned to me with added force.
+Everything in the house took a tongue and cried to me of past days. Its
+walls echoed a voice that I could never hear again; in the very
+looking-glasses I saw the reflection of a lost presence. Although I had
+moved myself for the purposes of sleep to a little room at the further
+end of the building, footsteps seemed to creep about my bed at night
+and I heard the rustle of a remembered dress without the door. The
+place grew hateful to me. I felt that I must get away from it or I
+should go mad.
+
+One afternoon Bastin arrived carrying a book and in a state of high
+indignation. This work, written, as he said, by some ribald traveller,
+grossly traduced the character of missionaries to the South Sea
+Islands, especially of those of the Society to which he subscribed, and
+he threw it on the table in his righteous wrath. Bickley picked it up
+and opened it at a photograph of a very pretty South Sea Island girl
+clad in a few flowers and nothing else, which he held towards Bastin,
+saying:
+
+“Is it to this child of Nature that you object? I call her distinctly
+attractive, though perhaps she does wear her hibiscus blooms with a
+difference to our women—a little lower down.”
+
+“The devil is always attractive,” replied Bastin gloomily. “Child of
+Nature indeed! I call her Child of Sin. That photograph is enough to
+make my poor Sarah turn in her grave.”
+
+“Why?” asked Bickley; “seeing that wide seas roll between you and this
+dusky Venus. Also I thought that according to your Hebrew legend sin
+came in with bark garments.”
+
+“You should search the Scriptures, Bickley,” I broke in, “and cultivate
+accuracy. It was fig-leaves that symbolised its arrival. The garments,
+which I think were of skin, developed later.”
+
+“Perhaps,” went on Bickley, who had turned the page, “she” (he referred
+to the late Mrs. Bastin) “would have preferred her thus,” and he held
+up another illustration of the same woman.
+
+In this the native belle appeared after conversion, clad in broken-down
+stays—I suppose they were stays—out of which she seemed to bulge and
+flow in every direction, a dirty white dress several sizes too small, a
+kind of Salvation Army bonnet without a crown and a prayer-book which
+she held pressed to her middle; the general effect being hideous, and
+in some curious way, improper.
+
+“Certainly,” said Bastin, “though I admit her clothes do not seem to
+fit and she has not buttoned them up as she ought. But it is not of the
+pictures so much as of the letterpress with its false and scandalous
+accusations, that I complain.”
+
+“Why do you complain?” asked Bickley. “Probably it is quite true,
+though that we could never ascertain without visiting the lady’s home.”
+
+“If I could afford it,” exclaimed Bastin with rising anger, “I should
+like to go there and expose this vile traducer of my cloth.”
+
+“So should I,” answered Bickley, “and expose these introducers of
+consumption, measles and other European diseases, to say nothing of
+gin, among an innocent and Arcadian people.”
+
+“How can you call them innocent, Bickley, when they murder and eat
+missionaries?”
+
+“I dare say we should all eat a missionary, Bastin, if we were hungry
+enough,” was the answer, after which something occurred to change the
+conversation.
+
+But I kept the book and read it as a neutral observer, and came to the
+conclusion that these South Sea Islands, a land where it was always
+afternoon, must be a charming place, in which perhaps the stars of the
+Tropics and the scent of the flowers might enable one to forget a
+little, or at least take the edge off memory. Why should I not visit
+them and escape another long and dreary English winter? No, I could not
+do so alone. If Bastin and Bickley were there, their eternal arguments
+might amuse me. Well, why should they not come also? When one has money
+things can always be arranged.
+
+The idea, which had its root in this absurd conversation, took a
+curious hold on me. I thought of it all the evening, being alone, and
+that night it re-arose in my dreams. I dreamed that my lost Natalie
+appeared to me and showed me a picture. It was of a long, low land, a
+curving shore of which the ends were out of the picture, whereon grew
+tall palms, and where great combers broke upon gleaming sand.
+
+Then the picture seemed to become a reality and I saw Natalie herself,
+strangely changeful in her aspect, strangely varying in face and
+figure, strangely bright, standing in the mouth of a pass whereof the
+little bordering cliffs were covered with bushes and low trees, whose
+green was almost hid in lovely flowers. There in my dream she stood,
+smiling mysteriously, and stretched out her arms towards me.
+
+As I awoke I seemed to hear her voice, repeating her dying words: “Go
+where you seem called to go, far away. Oh! the wonderful place in which
+you will find me, not knowing that you have found me.”
+
+With some variations this dream visited me twice that night. In the
+morning I woke up quite determined that I would go to the South Sea
+Islands, even if I must do so alone. On that same evening Bastin and
+Bickley dined with me. I said nothing to them about my dream, for
+Bastin never dreamed and Bickley would have set it down to indigestion.
+But when the cloth had been cleared away and we were drinking our glass
+of port—both Bastin and Bickley only took one, the former because he
+considered port a sinful indulgence of the flesh, the latter because he
+feared it would give him gout—I remarked casually that they both looked
+very run down and as though they wanted a rest. They agreed, at least
+each of them said he had noticed it in the other. Indeed Bastin added
+that the damp and the cold in the church, in which he held daily
+services to no congregation except the old woman who cleaned it, had
+given him rheumatism, which prevented him from sleeping.
+
+“Do call things by their proper names,” interrupted Bickley. “I told
+you yesterday that what you are suffering from is neuritis in your
+right arm, which will become chronic if you neglect it much longer. I
+have the same thing myself, so I ought to know, and unless I can stop
+operating for a while I believe my fingers will become useless. Also
+something is affecting my sight, overstrain, I suppose, so that I am
+obliged to wear stronger and stronger glasses. I think I shall have to
+leave Ogden” (his partner) “in charge for a while, and get away into
+the sun. There is none here before June.”
+
+“I would if I could pay a _locum tenens_ and were quite sure it isn’t
+wrong,” said Bastin.
+
+“I am glad you both think like that,” I remarked, “as I have a
+suggestion to make to you. I want to go to the South Seas about which
+we were talking yesterday, to get the thorough change that Bickley has
+been advising for me, and I should be very grateful if you would both
+come as my guests. You, Bickley, make so much money out of cutting
+people about, that you can arrange your own affairs during your
+absence. But as for you, Bastin, I will see to the wherewithal for the
+_locum tenens_, and everything else.”
+
+“You are very kind,” said Bastin, “and certainly I should like to
+expose that misguided author, who probably published his offensive work
+without thinking that what he wrote might affect the subscriptions to
+the missionary societies, also to show Bickley that he is not always
+right, as he seems to think. But I could never dream of accepting
+without the full approval of the Bishop.”
+
+“You might get that of your nurse also, if she happens to be still
+alive,” mocked Bickley. “As for his Lordship, I don’t think he will
+raise any objection when he sees the certificate I will give you about
+the state of your health. He is a great believer in me ever since I
+took that carbuncle out of his neck which he got because he will not
+eat enough. As for me, I mean to come if only to show you how
+continually and persistently you are wrong. But, Arbuthnot, how do you
+mean to go?”
+
+“I don’t know. In a mail steamer, I suppose.”
+
+“If you can run to it, a yacht would be much better.”
+
+“That’s a good idea, for one could get out of the beaten tracks and see
+the places that are never, or seldom, visited. I will make some
+inquiries. And now, to celebrate the occasion, let us all have another
+glass of port and drink a toast.”
+
+They hesitated and were lost, Bastin murmuring something about doing
+without his stout next day as a penance. Then they both asked what was
+the toast, each of them, after thought, suggesting that it should be
+the utter confusion of the other.
+
+I shook my head, whereon as a result of further cogitation, Bastin
+submitted that the Unknown would be suitable. Bickley said that he
+thought this a foolish idea as everything worth knowing was already
+known, and what was the good of drinking to the rest? A toast to the
+Truth would be better.
+
+A notion came to me.
+
+“Let us combine them,” I said, “and drink to the Unknown Truth.”
+
+So we did, though Bastin grumbled that the performance made him feel
+like Pilate.
+
+“We are all Pilates in our way,” I replied with a sigh.
+
+“That is what I think every time I diagnose a case,” exclaimed Bickley.
+
+As for me I laughed and for some unknown reason felt happier than I had
+done for months. Oh! if only the writer of that tourist tale of the
+South Sea Islands could have guessed what fruit his light-thrown seed
+would yield to us and to the world!
+
+I made my inquiries through a London agency which hired out yachts or
+sold them to the idle rich. As I expected, there were plenty to be had,
+at a price, but wealthy as I was, the figure asked of the buyer of any
+suitable craft, staggered me. In the end, however, I chartered one for
+six months certain and at so much per month for as long as I liked
+afterwards. The owners paid insurance and everything else on condition
+that they appointed the captain and first mate, also the engineer, for
+this yacht, which was named _Star of the South_, could steam at about
+ten knots as well as sail.
+
+I know nothing about yachts, and therefore shall not attempt to
+describe her, further than to say that she was of five hundred and
+fifty tons burden, very well constructed, and smart to look at, as well
+she might be, seeing that a deceased millionaire from whose executors I
+hired her had spent a fortune in building and equipping her in the best
+possible style. In all, her crew consisted of thirty-two hands. A
+peculiarity of the vessel was that owing to some fancy of the late
+owner, the passenger accommodation, which was splendid, lay forward of
+the bridge, this with the ship’s store-rooms, refrigerating chamber,
+etc., being almost in the bows. It was owing to these arrangements,
+which were unusual, that the executors found it impossible to sell, and
+were therefore glad to accept such an offer as mine in order to save
+expenses. Perhaps they hoped that she might go to the bottom, being
+heavily insured. If so, the Fates did not disappoint them.
+
+The captain, named Astley, was a jovial person who held every kind of
+certificate. He seemed so extraordinarily able at his business that
+personally I suspected him of having made mistakes in the course of his
+career, not unconnected with the worship of Bacchus. In this I believe
+I was right; otherwise a man of such attainments would have been
+commanding something bigger than a private yacht. The first mate,
+Jacobsen, was a melancholy Dane, a spiritualist who played the
+concertina, and seemed to be able to do without sleep. The crew were a
+mixed lot, good men for the most part and quite unobjectionable, more
+than half of them being Scandinavian. I think that is all I need say
+about the _Star of the South_.
+
+The arrangement was that the _Star of the South_ should proceed through
+the Straits of Gibraltar to Marseilles, where we would join her, and
+thence travel via the Suez Canal, to Australia and on to the South
+Seas, returning home as our fancy or convenience might dictate.
+
+All the first part of the plan we carried out to the letter. Of the
+remainder I say nothing at present.
+
+_Star of the South_ was amply provided with every kind of store. Among
+them were medicines and surgical instruments, selected by Bickley, and
+a case of Bibles and other religious works in sundry languages of the
+South Seas, selected by Bastin, whose bishop, when he understood the
+pious objects of his journey, had rather encouraged than hindered his
+departure on sick leave, and a large number of novels, books of
+reference, etc., laid in by myself. She duly sailed from the Thames and
+reached Marseilles after a safe and easy passage, where all three of us
+boarded her.
+
+I forgot to add that she had another passenger, the little spaniel,
+Tommy. I had intended to leave him behind, but while I was packing up
+he followed me about with such evident understanding of my purpose that
+my heart was touched. When I entered the motor to drive to the station
+he escaped from the hands of the servant, whimpering, and took refuge
+on my knee. After this I felt that Destiny intended him to be our
+companion. Moreover, was he not linked with my dead past, and, had I
+but known it, with my living future also?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+The Cyclone
+
+
+We enjoyed our voyage exceedingly. In Egypt, a land I was glad to
+revisit, we only stopped a week while the _Star of the South_, which we
+rejoined at Suez, coaled and went through the Canal. This, however,
+gave us time to spend a few days in Cairo, visit the Pyramids and
+Sakkara which Bastin and Bickley had never seen before, and inspect the
+great Museum. The journey up the Nile was postponed until our return.
+It was a pleasant break and gave Bickley, a most omnivorous reader who
+was well acquainted with Egyptian history and theology, the opportunity
+of trying to prove to Bastin that Christianity was a mere development
+of the ancient Egyptian faith. The arguments that ensued may be
+imagined. It never seemed to occur to either of them that all faiths
+may be and indeed probably are progressive; in short, different rays of
+light thrown from the various facets of the same crystal, as in turn
+these are shone upon by the sun of Truth.
+
+Our passage down the Red Sea was cool and agreeable. Thence we shaped
+our course for Ceylon. Here again we stopped a little while to run up
+to Kandy and to visit the ruined city of Anarajapura with its great
+Buddhist topes that once again gave rise to religious argument between
+my two friends. Leaving Ceylon we struck across the Indian Ocean for
+Perth in Western Australia.
+
+It was a long voyage, since to save our coal we made most of it under
+canvas. However, we were not dull as Captain Astley was a good
+companion, and even out of the melancholy Dane, Jacobsen, we had
+entertainment. He insisted on holding seances in the cabin, at which
+the usual phenomena occurred. The table twisted about, voices were
+heard and Jacobsen’s accordion wailed out tunes above our heads. These
+happenings drove Bickley to a kind of madness, for here were events
+which he could not explain. He was convinced that someone was playing
+tricks upon him, and devised the most elaborate snares to detect the
+rogue, entirely without result.
+
+First he accused Jacobsen, who was very indignant, and then me, who
+laughed. In the end Jacobsen and I left the “circle” and the cabin,
+which was locked behind us; only Bastin and Bickley remaining there in
+the dark. Presently we heard sounds of altercation, and Bickley emerged
+looking very red in the face, followed by Bastin, who was saying:
+
+“Can I help it if something pulled your nose and snatched off your
+eyeglasses, which anyhow are quite useless to you when there is no
+light? Again, is it possible for me, sitting on the other side of that
+table, to have placed the concertina on your head and made it play the
+National Anthem, a thing that I have not the slightest idea how to do?”
+
+“Please do not try to explain,” snapped Bickley. “I am perfectly aware
+that you deceived me somehow, which no doubt you think a good joke.”
+
+“My dear fellow,” I interrupted, “is it possible to imagine old Basil
+deceiving anyone?”
+
+“Why not,” snorted Bickley, “seeing that he deceives himself from one
+year’s end to the other?”
+
+“I think,” said Bastin, “that this is an unholy business and that we
+are both deceived by the devil. I will have no more to do with it,” and
+he departed to his cabin, probably to say some appropriate prayers.
+
+After this the seances were given up but Jacobsen produced an
+instrument called a planchette and with difficulty persuaded Bickley to
+try it, which he did after many precautions. The thing, a heart-shaped
+piece of wood mounted on wheels and with a pencil stuck at its narrow
+end, cantered about the sheet of paper on which it was placed, Bickley,
+whose hands rested upon it, staring at the roof of the cabin. Then it
+began to scribble and after a while stopped still.
+
+“Will the Doctor look?” said Jacobsen. “Perhaps the spirits have told
+him something.”
+
+“Oh! curse all this silly talk about spirits,” exclaimed Bickley, as he
+arranged his eyeglasses and held up the paper to the light, for it was
+after dinner.
+
+He stared, then with an exclamation which I will not repeat, and a
+glance of savage suspicion at the poor Dane and the rest of us, threw
+it down and left the cabin. I picked it up and next moment was
+screaming with laughter. There on the top of the sheet was a rough but
+entirely recognizable portrait of Bickley with the accordion on his
+head, and underneath, written in a delicate, Italian female hand,
+absolutely different from his own, were these words taken from one of
+St. Paul’s Epistles—“Oppositions of science falsely so called.”
+Underneath them again in a scrawling, schoolboy fist, very like
+Bastin’s, was inscribed, “Tell us how this is done, you silly doctor,
+who think yourself so clever.”
+
+“It seems that the devil really can quote Scripture,” was Bastin’s only
+comment, while Jacobsen stared before him and smiled.
+
+Bickley never alluded to the matter, but for days afterwards I saw him
+experimenting with paper and chemicals, evidently trying to discover a
+form of invisible ink which would appear upon the application of the
+hand. As he never said anything about it, I fear that he failed.
+
+This planchette business had a somewhat curious ending. A few nights
+later Jacobsen was working it and asked me to put a question. To oblige
+him I inquired on what day we should reach Fremantle, the port of
+Perth. It wrote an answer which, I may remark, subsequently proved to
+be quite correct.
+
+“That is not a good question,” said Jacobsen, “since as a sailor I
+might guess the reply. Try again, Mr. Arbuthnot.”
+
+“Will anything remarkable happen on our voyage to the South Seas?” I
+inquired casually.
+
+The planchette hesitated a while then wrote rapidly and stopped.
+Jacobsen took up the paper and began to read the answer aloud—“To A, B
+the D, and B the C, the most remarkable things will happen that have
+happened to men living in the world.”
+
+“That must mean me, Bickley the doctor and Bastin the clergyman,” I
+said, laughing.
+
+Jacobsen paid no attention, for he was reading what followed. As he did
+so I saw his face turn white and his eyes begin to start from his head.
+Then suddenly he tore the paper in pieces which he thrust into his
+pocket. Lifting his great fist he uttered some Danish oath and with a
+single blow smashed the planchette to fragments, after which he strode
+away, leaving me astonished and somewhat disturbed. When I met him the
+next morning I asked him what was on the paper.
+
+“Oh!” he said quietly, “something I should not like you too-proper
+English gentlemens to see. Something not nice. You understand. Those
+spirits not always good; they do that kind of thing sometimes. That’s
+why I broke up this planchette.”
+
+Then he began to talk of something else and there the matter ended.
+
+I should have said that, principally with a view to putting themselves
+in a position to confute each other, ever since we had started from
+Marseilles both Bastin and Bickley spent a number of hours each day in
+assiduous study of the language of the South Sea Islands. It became a
+kind of competition between them as to which could learn the most. Now
+Bastin, although simple and even stupid in some ways, was a good
+scholar, and as I knew at college, had quite a faculty for acquiring
+languages in which he had taken high marks at examinations. Bickley,
+too, was an extraordinarily able person with an excellent memory,
+especially when he was on his mettle. The result was that before we
+ever reached a South Sea island they had a good working knowledge of
+the local tongues.
+
+As it chanced, too, at Perth we picked up a Samoan and his wife who,
+under some of the “white Australia” regulations, were not allowed to
+remain in the country and offered to work as servants in return for a
+passage to Apia where we proposed to call some time or other. With
+these people Bastin and Bickley talked all day long till really they
+became fairly proficient in their soft and beautiful dialect. They
+wished me to learn also, but I said that with two such excellent
+interpreters and the natives while they remained with us, it seemed
+quite unnecessary. Still, I picked up a good deal in a quiet way, as
+much as they did perhaps.
+
+At length, travelling on and on as a voyager to the planet Mars might
+do, we sighted the low shores of Australia and that same evening were
+towed, for our coal was quite exhausted, to the wharf at Fremantle.
+Here we spent a few days exploring the beautiful town of Perth and its
+neighbourhood where it was very hot just then, and eating peaches and
+grapes till we made ourselves ill, as a visitor often does who is
+unaware that fruit should not be taken in quantity in Australia while
+the sun is high. Then we departed for Melbourne almost before our
+arrival was generally known, since I did not wish to advertise our
+presence or the object of our journey.
+
+We crossed the Great Australian Bight, of evil reputation, in the most
+perfect weather; indeed it might have been a mill pond, and after a
+short stay at Melbourne, went on to Sydney, where we coaled again and
+laid in supplies.
+
+Then our real journey began. The plan we laid out was to sail to Suva
+in Fiji, about 1,700 miles away, and after a stay there, on to Hawaii
+or the Sandwich Islands, stopping perhaps at the Phoenix Islands and
+the Central Polynesian Sporades, such as Christmas and Fanning Isles.
+Then we proposed to turn south again through the Marshall Archipelago
+and the Caroline Islands, and so on to New Guinea and the Coral Sea.
+Particularly did we wish to visit Easter Island on account of its
+marvelous sculptures that are supposed to be the relics of a
+pre-historic race. In truth, however, we had no fixed plan except to go
+wherever circumstance and chance might take us. Chance, I may add, or
+something else, took full advantage of its opportunities.
+
+We came to Suva in safety and spent a while in exploring the beautiful
+Fiji Isles where both Bastin and Bickley made full inquiries about the
+work of the missionaries, each of them drawing exactly opposite
+conclusions from the same set of admitted facts. Thence we steamed to
+Samoa and put our two natives ashore at Apia, where we procured some
+coal. We did not stay long enough in these islands to investigate them,
+however, because persons of experience there assured us from certain
+familiar signs that one of the terrible hurricanes with which they are
+afflicted, was due to arrive shortly and that we should do well to put
+ourselves beyond its reach. So having coaled and watered we departed in
+a hurry.
+
+Up to this time I should state we had met with the most wonderful good
+fortune in the matter of weather, so good indeed that never on one
+occasion since we left Marseilles, had we been obliged to put the
+fiddles on the tables. With the superstition of a sailor Captain
+Astley, when I alluded to the matter, shook his head saying that
+doubtless we should pay for it later on, since “luck never goes all the
+way” and cyclones were reported to be about.
+
+Here I must tell that after we were clear of Apia, it was discovered
+that the Danish mate who was believed to be in his cabin unwell from
+something he had eaten, was missing. The question arose whether we
+should put back to find him, as we supposed that he had made a trip
+inland and met with an accident, or been otherwise delayed. I was in
+favour of doing so though the captain, thinking of the threatened
+hurricane, shook his head and said that Jacobsen was a queer fellow who
+might just as well have gone overboard as anywhere else, if he thought
+he heard “the spirits, of whom he was so fond,” calling him. While the
+matter was still in suspense I happened to go into my own stateroom and
+there, stuck in the looking-glass, saw an envelope in the Dane’s
+handwriting addressed to myself. On opening it I found another sealed
+letter, unaddressed, also a note that ran as follows:
+
+“Honoured Sir,
+    “You will think very badly of me for leaving you, but the enclosed
+    which I implore you not to open until you have seen the last of the
+    _Star of the South_, will explain my reason and I hope clear my
+    reputation. I thank you again and again for all your kindness and
+    pray that the Spirits who rule the world may bless and preserve
+    you, also the Doctor and Mr. Bastin.”
+
+
+This letter, which left the fate of Jacobsen quite unsolved, for it
+might mean either that he had deserted or drowned himself, I put away
+with the enclosure in my pocket. Of course there was no obligation on
+me to refrain from opening the letter, but I shrank from doing so both
+from some kind of sense of honour and, to tell the truth, for fear of
+what it might contain. I felt that this would be disagreeable; also,
+although there was nothing to connect them together, I bethought me of
+the scene when Jacobsen had smashed the planchette.
+
+On my return to the deck I said nothing whatsoever about the discovery
+of the letter, but only remarked that on reflection I had changed my
+mind and agreed with the captain that it would be unwise to attempt to
+return in order to look for Jacobsen. So the boatswain, a capable
+individual who had seen better days, was promoted to take his watches
+and we went on as before. How curiously things come about in the world!
+For nautical reasons that were explained to me, but which I will not
+trouble to set down, if indeed I could remember them, I believe that if
+we had returned to Apia we should have missed the great gale and
+subsequent cyclone, and with these much else. But it was not so fated.
+
+It was on the fourth day, when we were roughly seven hundred miles or
+more north of Samoa, that we met the edge of this gale about sundown.
+The captain put on steam in the hope of pushing through it, but that
+night we dined for the first time with the fiddles on, and by eleven
+o’clock it was as much as one could do to stand in the cabin, while the
+water was washing freely over the deck. Fortunately, however, the wind
+veered more aft of us, so that by putting about her head a little
+(seamen must forgive me if I talk of these matters as a landlubber) we
+ran almost before the wind, though not quite in the direction that we
+wished to go.
+
+When the light came it was blowing very hard indeed, and the sky was
+utterly overcast, so that we got no glimpse of the sun, or of the stars
+on the following night. Unfortunately, there was no moon visible;
+indeed, if there had been I do not suppose that it would have helped us
+because of the thick pall of clouds. For quite seventy-two hours we ran
+on beneath bare poles before that gale. The little vessel behaved
+splendidly, riding the seas like a duck, but I could see that Captain
+Astley was growing alarmed. When I said something complimentary to him
+about the conduct of the _Star of the South_, he replied that she was
+forging ahead all right, but the question was—where to? He had been
+unable to take an observation of any sort since we left Samoa; both his
+patent logs had been carried away, so that now only the compass
+remained, and he had not the slightest idea where we were in that great
+ocean studded with atolls and islands.
+
+I asked him whether we could not steam back to our proper course, but
+he answered that to do so he would have to travel dead in the eye of
+the gale, and he doubted whether the engines would stand it. Also there
+was the question of coal to be considered. However, he had kept the
+fires going and would do what he could if the weather moderated.
+
+That night during dinner which now consisted of tinned foods and whisky
+and water, for the seas had got to the galley fire, suddenly the gale
+dropped, whereat we rejoiced exceedingly. The captain came down into
+the saloon very white and shaken, I thought, and I asked him to have a
+nip of whisky to warm him up, and to celebrate our good fortune in
+having run out of the wind. He took the bottle and, to my alarm, poured
+out a full half tumbler of spirit, which he swallowed undiluted in two
+or three gulps.
+
+“That’s better!” he said with a hoarse laugh. “But man, what is it you
+are saying about having run out of the wind? Look at the glass!”
+
+“We have,” said Bastin, “and it is wonderfully steady. About 29 degrees
+or a little over, which it has been for the last three days.”
+
+Again Astley laughed in a mirthless fashion, as he answered:
+
+“Oh, that thing! That’s the passengers’ glass. I told the steward to
+put it out of gear so that you might not be frightened; it is an old
+trick. Look at this,” and he produced one of the portable variety out
+of his pocket.
+
+We looked, and it stood somewhere between 27 degrees and 28 degrees.
+
+“That’s the lowest glass I ever saw in the Polynesian or any other seas
+during thirty years. It’s right, too, for I have tested it by three
+others,” he said.
+
+“What does it mean?” I asked rather anxiously.
+
+“South Sea cyclone of the worst breed,” he replied. “That cursed Dane
+knew it was coming and that’s why he left the ship. Pray as you never
+prayed before,” and again he stretched out his hand towards the whisky
+bottle. But I stepped between him and it, shaking my head. Thereon he
+laughed for the third time and left the cabin. Though I saw him once or
+twice afterwards, these were really the last words of intelligible
+conversation that I ever had with Captain Astley.
+
+“It seems that we are in some danger,” said Bastin, in an unmoved kind
+of way. “I think that was a good idea of the captain’s, to put up a
+petition, I mean, but as Bickley will scarcely care to join in it I
+will go into the cabin and do so myself.”
+
+Bickley snorted, then said:
+
+“Confound that captain! Why did he play such a trick upon us about the
+barometer? Humphrey, I believe he had been drinking.”
+
+“So do I,” I said, looking at the whisky bottle. “Otherwise, after
+taking those precautions to keep us in the dark, he would not have let
+on like that.”
+
+“Well,” said Bickley, “he can’t get to the liquor, except through this
+saloon, as it is locked up forward with the other stores.”
+
+“That’s nothing,” I replied, “as doubtless he has a supply of his own;
+rum, I expect. We must take our chance.”
+
+Bickley nodded, and suggested that we should go on deck to see what was
+happening. So we went. Not a breath of wind was stirring, and even the
+sea seemed to be settling down a little. At least, so we judged from
+the motion, for we could not see either it or the sky; everything was
+as black as pitch. We heard the sailors, however, engaged in rigging
+guide ropes fore and aft, and battening down the hatches with extra
+tarpaulins by the light of lanterns. Also they were putting ropes round
+the boats and doing something to the spars and topmasts.
+
+Presently Bastin joined us, having, I suppose, finished his devotions.
+
+“Really, it is quite pleasant here,” he said. “One never knows how
+disagreeable so much wind is until it stops.”
+
+I lit my pipe, making no answer, and the match burned quite steadily
+there in the open air.
+
+“What is that?” exclaimed Bickley, staring at something which now I saw
+for the first time. It looked like a line of white approaching through
+the gloom. With it came a hissing sound, and although there was still
+no wind, the rigging began to moan mysteriously like a thing in pain. A
+big drop of water also fell from the sides into my pipe and put it out.
+Then one of the sailors cried in a hoarse voice:
+
+“Get down below, governors, unless you want to go out to sea!”
+
+“Why?” inquired Bastin.
+
+“Why? Becos the ‘urricane is coming, that’s all. Coming as though the
+devil had kicked it out of ‘ell.”
+
+Bastin seemed inclined to remonstrate at this sort of language, but we
+pushed him down the companion and followed, propelling the spaniel
+Tommy in front of us. Next moment I heard the sailors battening the
+hatch with hurried blows, and when this was done to their satisfaction,
+heard their feet also as they ran into shelter.
+
+Another instant and we were all lying in a heap on the cabin floor with
+poor Tommy on top of us. The cyclone had struck the ship! Above the
+wash of water and the screaming of the gale we heard other mysterious
+sounds, which doubtless were caused by the yards hitting the seas, for
+the yacht was lying on her side. I thought that all was over, but
+presently there came a rending, crashing noise. The masts, or one of
+them, had gone, and by degrees we righted.
+
+“Near thing!” said Bickley. “Good heavens, what’s that?”
+
+I listened, for the electric light had temporarily gone out, owing, I
+suppose, to the dynamo having stopped for a moment. A most unholy and
+hollow sound was rising from the cabin floor. It might have been caused
+by a bullock with its windpipe cut, trying to get its breath and
+groaning. Then the light came on again and we saw Bastin lying at full
+length on the carpet.
+
+“He’s broken his neck or something,” I said.
+
+Bickley crept to him and having looked, sang out:
+
+“It’s all right! He’s only sea-sick. I thought it would come to that if
+he drank so much tea.”
+
+“Sea-sick,” I said faintly—“sea-sick?”
+
+“That’s all,” said Bickley. “The nerves of the stomach acting on the
+brain or vice-versa—that is, if Bastin has a brain,” he added sotto
+voce.
+
+“Oh!” groaned the prostrate clergyman. “I wish that I were dead!”
+
+“Don’t trouble about that,” answered Bickley. “I expect you soon will
+be. Here, drink some whisky, you donkey.”
+
+Bastin sat up and obeyed, out of the bottle, for it was impossible to
+pour anything into a glass, with results too dreadful to narrate.
+
+“I call that a dirty trick,” he said presently, in a feeble voice,
+glowering at Bickley.
+
+“I expect I shall have to play you a dirtier before long, for you are a
+pretty bad case, old fellow.”
+
+As a matter of fact he had, for once Bastin had begun really we thought
+that he was going to die. Somehow we got him into his cabin, which
+opened off the saloon, and as he could drink nothing more, Bickley
+managed to inject morphia or some other compound into him, which made
+him insensible for a long while.
+
+“He must be in a poor way,” he said, “for the needle went more than a
+quarter of an inch into him, and he never cried out or stirred.
+Couldn’t help it in that rolling.”
+
+But now I could hear the engines working, and I think that the bow of
+the vessel was got head on to the seas, for instead of rolling we
+pitched, or rather the ship stood first upon one end and then upon the
+other. This continued for a while until the first burst of the cyclone
+had gone by. Then suddenly the engines stopped; I suppose that they had
+broken down, but I never learned, and we seemed to veer about, nearly
+sinking in the process, and to run before the hurricane at terrific
+speed.
+
+“I wonder where we are going to?” I said to Bickley. “To the land of
+sleep, Humphrey, I imagine,” he replied in a more gentle voice than I
+had often heard him use, adding: “Good-bye, old boy, we have been real
+friends, haven’t we, notwithstanding my peculiarities? I only wish that
+I could think that there was anything in Bastin’s views. But I can’t, I
+can’t. It’s good night for us poor creatures!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+Land
+
+
+At last the electric light really went out. I had looked at my watch
+just before this happened and wound it up, which, Bickley remarked, was
+superfluous and a waste of energy. It then marked 3.20 in the morning.
+We had wedged Bastin, who was now snoring comfortably, into his berth,
+with pillows, and managed to tie a cord over him—no, it was a large
+bath towel, fixing one end of it to the little rack over his bed and
+the other to its framework. As for ourselves, we lay down on the floor
+between the table legs, which, of course, were screwed, and the settee,
+protecting ourselves as best we were able by help of the cushions,
+etc., between two of which we thrust the terrified Tommy who had been
+sliding up and down the cabin floor. Thus we remained, expecting death
+every moment till the light of day, a very dim light, struggling
+through a port-hole of which the iron cover had somehow been wrenched
+off. Or perhaps it was never shut, I do not remember.
+
+About this time there came a lull in the hellish, howling hurricane;
+the fact being, I suppose, that we had reached the centre of the
+cyclone. I suggested that we should try to go on deck and see what was
+happening. So we started, only to find the entrance to the companion so
+faithfully secured that we could not by any means get out. We knocked
+and shouted, but no one answered. My belief is that at this time
+everyone on the yacht except ourselves had been washed away and
+drowned.
+
+Then we returned to the saloon, which, except for a little water
+trickling about the floor, was marvelously dry, and, being hungry,
+retrieved some bits of food and biscuit from its corners and ate. At
+this moment the cyclone began to blow again worse than ever, but it
+seemed to us, from another direction, and before it sped our poor
+derelict barque. It blew all day till for my part I grew utterly weary
+and even longed for the inevitable end. If my views were not quite
+those of Bastin, certainly they were not those of Bickley. I had
+believed from my youth up that the individuality of man, the ego, so to
+speak, does not die when life goes out of his poor body, and this faith
+did not desert me then. Therefore, I wished to have it over and learn
+what there might be upon the other side.
+
+We could not speak much because of the howling of the wind, but Bickley
+did manage to shout to me something to the effect that his partners
+would, in his opinion, make an end of their great practice within two
+years, which, he added, was a pity. I nodded my head, not caring
+twopence what happened to Bickley’s partners or their business, or to
+my own property, or to anything else. When death is at hand most of us
+do not think much of such things because then we realise how small they
+are. Indeed I was wondering whether within a few minutes or hours I
+should or should not see Natalie again, and if this were the end to
+which she had seemed to beckon me in that dream.
+
+On we sped, and on. About four in the afternoon we heard sounds from
+Bastin’s cabin which faintly reminded me of some tune. I crept to the
+door and listened. Evidently he had awakened and was singing or trying
+to sing, for music was not one of his strong points, “For those in
+peril on the sea.” Devoutly did I wish that it might be heard.
+Presently it ceased, so I suppose he went to sleep again.
+
+The darkness gathered once more. Then of a sudden something fearful
+happened. There were stupendous noises of a kind I had never heard;
+there were convulsions. It seemed to us that the ship was flung right
+up into the air a hundred feet or more.
+
+“Tidal wave, I expect,” shouted Bickley.
+
+Almost as he spoke she came down with the most appalling crash on to
+something hard and nearly jarred the senses out of us. Next the saloon
+was whirling round and round and yet being carried forward, and we felt
+air blowing upon us. Then our senses left us. As I clasped Tommy to my
+side, whimpering and licking my face, my last thought was that all was
+over, and that presently I should learn everything or nothing.
+
+I woke up feeling very bruised and sore and perceived that light was
+flowing into the saloon. The door was still shut, but it had been
+wrenched off its hinges, and that was where the light came in; also
+some of the teak planks of the decking, jagged and splintered, were
+sticking up through the carpet. The table had broken from its
+fastenings and lay upon its side. Everything else was one confusion. I
+looked at Bickley. Apparently he had not awakened. He was stretched out
+still wedged in with his cushions and bleeding from a wound in his
+head. I crept to him in terror and listened. He was not dead, for his
+breathing was regular and natural. The whisky bottle which had been
+corked was upon the floor unbroken and about a third full. I took a
+good pull at the spirit; to me it tasted like nectar from the gods.
+Then I tried to force some down Bickley’s throat but could not, so I
+poured a little upon the cut on his head. The smart of it woke him in a
+hurry.
+
+“Where are we now?” he exclaimed. “You don’t mean to tell me that
+Bastin is right after all and that we live again somewhere else? Oh! I
+could never bear that ignominy.”
+
+“I don’t know about living somewhere else,” I said, “although my
+opinions on that matter differ from yours. But I do know that you and I
+are still on earth in what remains of the saloon of the _Star of the
+South_.”
+
+“Thank God for that! Let’s go and look for old Bastin,” said Bickley.
+“I do pray that he is all right also.”
+
+“It is most illogical of you, Bickley, and indeed wrong,” groaned a
+deep voice from the other side of the cabin door, “to thank a God in
+Whom you do not believe, and to talk of praying for one of the worst
+and most inefficient of His servants when you have no faith in prayer.”
+
+“Got you there, my friend,” I said.
+
+Bickley murmured something about force of habit, and looked smaller
+than I had ever seen him do before.
+
+Somehow we forced that door open; it was not easy because it had
+jammed. Within the cabin, hanging on either side of the bath towel
+which had stood the strain nobly, something like a damp garment over a
+linen line, was Bastin most of whose bunk seemed to have disappeared.
+Yes—Bastin, pale and dishevelled and looking shrunk, with his hair
+touzled and his beard apparently growing all ways, but still Bastin
+alive, if very weak.
+
+Bickley ran at him and made a cursory examination with his fingers.
+
+“Nothing broken,” he said triumphantly. “He’s all right.”
+
+“If _you_ had hung over a towel for many hours in most violent weather
+you would not say that,” groaned Bastin. “My inside is a pulp. But
+perhaps you would be kind enough to untie me.”
+
+“Bosh!” said Bickley as he obeyed. “All you want is something to eat.
+Meanwhile, drink this,” and he handed him the remains of the whisky.
+
+Bastin swallowed it every drop, murmuring something about taking a
+little wine for his stomach’s sake, “one of the Pauline injunctions,
+you know,” after which he was much more cheerful. Then we hunted about
+and found some more of the biscuits and other food with which we filled
+ourselves after a fashion.
+
+“I wonder what has happened,” said Bastin. “I suppose that, thanks to
+the skill of the captain, we have after all reached the haven where we
+would be.”
+
+Here he stopped, rubbed his eyes and looked towards the saloon door
+which, as I have said, had been wrenched off its hinges, but appeared
+to have opened wider than when I observed it last. Also Tommy, who was
+recovering his spirits, uttered a series of low growls.
+
+“It is a most curious thing,” he went on, “and I suppose I must be
+suffering from hallucinations, but I could swear that just now I saw
+looking through that door the same improper young woman clothed in a
+few flowers and nothing else, whose photograph in that abominable and
+libellous book was indirectly the cause of our tempestuous voyage.”
+
+“Indeed!” replied Bickley. “Well, so long as she has not got on the
+broken-down stays and the Salvation Army bonnet without a crown, which
+you may remember she wore after she had fallen into the hands of your
+fraternity, I am sure _I_ do not mind. In fact I should be delighted to
+see anything so pleasant.”
+
+At this moment a distinct sound of female tittering arose from beyond
+the door. Tommy barked and Bickley stepped towards it, but I called to
+him.
+
+“Look out! Where there are women there are sure to be men. Let us be
+ready against accidents.”
+
+So we armed ourselves with pistols, that is Bickley and I did, Bastin
+being fortified solely with a Bible.
+
+Then we advanced, a remarkable and dilapidated trio, and dragged the
+door wide. Instantly there was a scurry and we caught sight of women’s
+forms wearing only flowers, and but few of these, running over white
+sand towards groups of men armed with odd-looking clubs, some of which
+were fashioned to the shapes of swords and spears. To make an
+impression I fired two shots with my revolver into the air, whereupon
+both men and women fled into groves of trees and vanished.
+
+“They don’t seem to be accustomed to white people,” said Bickley. “Is
+it possible that we have found a shore upon which no missionary has set
+a foot?”
+
+“I hope so,” said Bastin, “seeing that unworthy as I am, then the
+opportunities for me would be very great.”
+
+We stood still and looked about us. This was what we saw. All the after
+part of the ship from forward of the bridge had vanished utterly; there
+was not a trace of it; she had as it were been cut in two. More, we
+were some considerable distance from the sea which was still raging
+over a quarter of a mile away where great white combers struck upon a
+reef and spouted into the air. Behind us was a cliff, apparently of
+rock but covered with earth and vegetation, and against this cliff, in
+which the prow of the ship was buried, she, or what remained of her,
+had come to anchor for the last time.
+
+“You see what has happened,” I said. “A great tidal wave has carried us
+up here and retreated.”
+
+“That’s it,” exclaimed Bickley. “Look at the debris,” and he pointed to
+torn-up palms, bushes and seaweed piled into heaps which still ran salt
+water; also to a number of dead fish that lay about among them, adding,
+“Well, we are saved anyhow.”
+
+“And yet there are people like you who say that there is no
+Providence!” ejaculated Bastin.
+
+“I wonder what the views of Captain Astley and the crew are, or rather
+were, upon that matter,” interrupted Bickley.
+
+“I don’t know,” answered Bastin, looking about him vaguely. “It is true
+that I can’t see any of them, but if they are drowned no doubt it is
+because their period of usefulness in this world had ended.”
+
+“Let’s get down and look about us,” I remarked, being anxious to avoid
+further argument.
+
+So we scrambled from the remnant of the ship, like Noah descending out
+of the ark, as Bastin said, on to the beach beneath, where Tommy rushed
+to and fro, gambolling for joy. Here we discovered a path which ran
+diagonally up the side of a cliff which was nowhere more than fifty or
+sixty feet in height, and possibly had once formed the shore of this
+land, or perhaps that of a lake. Up this path we went, following the
+tracks of many human feet, and reaching the crest of the cliff, looked
+about us, basking as we did so in the beautiful morning sun, for the
+sky was now clear of clouds and with that last awful effort, which
+destroyed our ship, the cyclone had passed away.
+
+We were standing on a plain down which ran a little stream of good
+water whereof Tommy drank greedily, we following his example. To the
+right and left of this plain, further than we could see, stretched
+bushland over which towered many palms, rather ragged now because of
+the lashing of the gale. Looking inland we perceived that the ground
+sloped gently downwards, ending at a distance of some miles in a large
+lake. Far out in this lake something like the top of a mountain of a
+brown colour rose above the water, and on the edge of it was what from
+that distance appeared to be a tumbled ruin.
+
+“This is all very interesting,” I said to Bickley. “What do you make of
+it?”
+
+“I don’t quite know. At first sight I should say that we are standing
+on the lip of a crater of some vast extinct volcano. Look how it curves
+to north and south and at the slope running down to the lake.”
+
+I nodded.
+
+“Lucky that the tidal wave did not get over the cliff,” I said. “If it
+had the people here would have all been drowned out. I wonder where
+they have gone?”
+
+As I spoke Bastin pointed to the edge of the bush some hundreds of
+yards away, where we perceived brown figures slipping about among the
+trees. I suggested that we should go back to the mouth of our path, so
+as to have a line of retreat open in case of necessity, and await
+events. So we did and there stood still. By degrees the brown figures
+emerged on to the plain to the number of some hundreds, and we saw that
+they were both male and female. The women were clothed in nothing
+except flowers and a little girdle; the men were all armed with wooden
+weapons and also wore a girdle but no flowers. The children, of whom
+there were many, were quite naked.
+
+Among these people we observed a tall person clothed in what seemed to
+be a magnificent feather cloak, and, walking around and about him, a
+number of grotesque forms adorned with hideous masks and basket-like
+head-dresses that were surmounted by plumes.
+
+“The king or chief and his priests or medicine-men! This is splendid,”
+said Bickley triumphantly.
+
+Bastin also contemplated them with enthusiasm as raw material upon
+which he hoped to get to work.
+
+By degrees and very cautiously they approached us. To our joy, we
+perceived that behind them walked several young women who bore wooden
+trays of food or fruit.
+
+“That looks well,” I said. “They would not make offerings unless they
+were friendly.”
+
+“The food may be poisoned,” remarked Bickley suspiciously.
+
+The crowd advanced, we standing quite still looking as dignified as we
+could, I as the tallest in the middle, with Tommy sitting at my feet.
+When they were about five and twenty yards away, however, that wretched
+little dog caught sight of the masked priests. He growled and then
+rushed at them barking, his long black ears flapping as he went.
+
+The effect was instantaneous. One and all they turned and fled
+precipitately, who evidently had never before seen a dog and looked
+upon it as a deadly creature. Yes, even the tall chief and his masked
+medicine-men fled like hares pursued by Tommy, who bit one of them in
+the leg, evoking a terrific howl. I called him back and took him into
+my arms. Seeing that he was safe for a while the crowd reformed and
+once again advanced.
+
+As they came we noted that they were a wonderfully handsome people,
+tall and straight with regularly shaped features and nothing of the
+negro about them. Some of the young women might even be called
+beautiful, though those who were elderly had become corpulent. The
+feather-clothed chief, however, was much disfigured by a huge growth
+with a narrow stalk to it that hung from his neck and rested on his
+shoulder.
+
+“I’ll have that off him before he is a week older,” said Bickley,
+surveying this deformity with great professional interest.
+
+On they came, the girls with the platters walking ahead. On one of
+these were what looked like joints of baked pork, on another some
+plantains and pear-shaped fruits. They knelt down and offered these to
+us. We contemplated them for a while. Then Bickley shook his head and
+began to rub his stomach with appropriate contortions. Clearly they
+were quick-minded enough for they saw the point. At some words the
+girls brought the platters to the chief and others, who took from them
+portions of the food at hazard and ate them to show that it was not
+poisoned, we watching their throats the while to make sure that it was
+swallowed. Then they returned again and we took some of the food though
+only Bickley ate, because, as I pointed out to him, being a doctor who
+understood the use of antidotes; clearly he should make the experiment.
+However, nothing happened; indeed he said that it was very good.
+
+After this there came a pause. Then suddenly Bastin took up his parable
+in the Polynesian tongue which—to a certain extent—he had acquired with
+so much pains.
+
+“What is this place called?” he asked slowly and distinctly, pausing
+between each word.
+
+His audience shook their heads and he tried again, putting the accents
+on different syllables. Behold! some bright spirit understood him and
+answered:
+
+“Orofena.”
+
+“That means a hill, or an island, or a hill in an island,” whispered
+Bickley to me.
+
+“Who is your God?” asked Bastin again.
+
+The point seemed one upon which they were a little doubtful, but at
+last the chief answered, “Oro. He who fights.”
+
+“In other words, Mars,” said Bickley.
+
+“I will give you a better one,” said Bastin in the same slow fashion.
+
+Thinking that he referred to himself these children of Nature
+contemplated his angular form doubtfully and shook their heads. Then
+for the first time one of the men who was wearing a mask and a wicker
+crate on his head, spoke in a hollow voice, saying:
+
+“If you try Oro will eat you up.”
+
+“Head priest!” said Bickley, nudging me. “Old Bastin had better be
+careful or he will get his teeth into him and call them Oro’s.”
+
+Another pause, after which the man in a feather cloak with the growth
+on his neck that a servant was supporting, said:
+
+“I am Marama, the chief of Orofena. We have never seen men like you
+before, if you are men. What brought you here and with you that fierce
+and terrible animal, or evil spirit which makes a noise and bites?”
+
+Now Bickley pretended to consult me who stood brooding and majestic,
+that is if I can be majestic. I whispered something and he answered:
+
+“The gods of the wind and the sea.”
+
+“What nonsense,” ejaculated Bastin, “there are no such things.”
+
+“Shut up,” I said, “we must use similes here,” to which he replied:
+
+“I don’t like similes that tamper with the truth.”
+
+“Remember Neptune and Aeolus,” I suggested, and he lapsed into
+consideration of the point.
+
+“We knew that you were coming,” said Marama. “Our doctors told us all
+about you a moon ago. But we wish that you would come more gently, as
+you nearly washed away our country.”
+
+After looking at me Bickley replied:
+
+“How thankful should you be that in our kindness we have spared you.”
+
+“What do you come to do?” inquired Marama again. After the usual
+formula of consulting me Bickley answered:
+
+“We come to take that mountain (he meant lump) off your neck and make
+you beautiful; also to cure all the sickness among your people.”
+
+“And I come,” broke in Bastin, “to give you new hearts.”
+
+These announcements evidently caused great excitement. After
+consultation Marama answered:
+
+“We do not want new hearts as the old ones are good, but we wish to be
+rid of lumps and sicknesses. If you can do this we will make you gods
+and worship you and give you many wives.” (Here Bastin held up his
+hands in horror.) “When will you begin to take away the lumps?”
+
+“To-morrow,” said Bickley. “But learn that if you try to harm us we
+will bring another wave which will drown all your country.”
+
+Nobody seemed to doubt our capacities in this direction, but one
+inquiring spirit in a wicker crate did ask how it came about that if we
+controlled the ocean we had arrived in half a canoe instead of a whole
+one.
+
+Bickley replied to the effect that it was because the gods always
+travelled in half-canoes to show their higher nature, which seemed to
+satisfy everyone. Then we announced that we had seen enough of them for
+that day and would retire to think. Meanwhile we should be obliged if
+they would build us a house and keep us supplied with whatever food
+they had.
+
+“Do the gods eat?” asked the sceptic again.
+
+“That fellow is a confounded radical,” I whispered to Bickley. “Tell
+him that they do when they come to Orofena.”
+
+He did so, whereon the chief said:
+
+“Would the gods like a nice young girl cooked?”
+
+At this point Bastin retired down the path, realising that he had to do
+with cannibals. We said that we preferred to look at the girls alive
+and would meet them again to-morrow morning, when we hoped that the
+house would be ready.
+
+So our first interview with the inhabitants of Orofena came to an end,
+on which we congratulated ourselves.
+
+On reaching the remains of the _Star of the South_ we set to work to
+take stock of what was left to us. Fortunately it proved to be a very
+great deal. As I think I mentioned, all the passenger part of the yacht
+lay forward of the bridge, just in front of which the vessel had been
+broken in two, almost as cleanly as though she were severed by a
+gigantic knife. Further our stores were forward and practically
+everything else that belonged to us, even down to Bickley’s instruments
+and medicines and Bastin’s religious works, to say nothing of a great
+quantity of tinned food and groceries. Lastly on the deck above the
+saloon had stood two large lifeboats. Although these were amply secured
+at the commencement of the gale one of them, that on the port side, was
+smashed to smithers; probably some spar had fallen upon it. The
+starboard boat, however, remained intact and so far as we could judge,
+seaworthy, although the bulwarks were broken by the waves.
+
+“There’s something we can get away in if necessary,” I said.
+
+“Where to?” remarked Bastin. “We don’t know where we are or if there is
+any other land within a thousand miles. I think we had better stop here
+as Providence seems to have intended, especially when there is so much
+work to my hand.”
+
+“Be careful,” answered Bickley, “that the work to your hand does not
+end in the cutting of all our throats. It is an awkward thing
+interfering with the religion of savages, and I believe that these
+untutored children of Nature sometimes eat missionaries.”
+
+“Yes, I have heard that,” said Bastin; “they bake them first as they do
+pigs. But I don’t know that they would care to eat me,” and he glanced
+at his bony limbs, “especially when you are much plumper. Anyhow one
+can’t stop for a risk of that sort.”
+
+Deigning no reply, Bickley walked away to fetch some fine fish which
+had been washed up by the tidal wave and were still flapping about in a
+little pool of salt water. Then we took counsel as to how to make the
+best of our circumstances, and as a result set to work to tidy up the
+saloon and cabins, which was not difficult as what remained of the ship
+lay on an even keel. Also we got out some necessary stores, including
+paraffin for the swinging lamps with which the ship was fitted in case
+of accident to the electric light, candles, and the guns we had brought
+with us so that they might be handy in the event of attack. This done,
+by the aid of the tools that were in the storerooms, Bickley, who was
+an excellent carpenter, repaired the saloon door, all that was
+necessary to keep us private, as the bulkhead still remained.
+
+“Now,” he said triumphantly when he had finished and got the lock and
+bolts to work to his satisfaction, “we can stand a siege if needed, for
+as the ship is iron built they can’t even burn us out and that teak
+door would take some forcing. Also we can shore it up.”
+
+“How about something to eat? I want my tea,” said Bastin.
+
+“Then, my reverend friend,” replied Bickley, “take a couple of the fire
+buckets and fetch some water from the stream. Also collect driftwood of
+which there is plenty about, clean those fish and grill them over the
+saloon stove.”
+
+“I’ll try,” said Bastin, “but I never did any cooking before.”
+
+“No,” replied Bickley, “on second thoughts I will see to that myself,
+but you can get the fish ready.”
+
+So, with due precautions, Bastin and I fetched water from the stream
+which we found flowed over the edge of the cliff quite close at hand
+into a beautiful coral basin that might have been designed for a bath
+of the nymphs. Indeed one at a time, while the other watched, we
+undressed and plunged into it, and never was a tub more welcome than
+after our long days of tempest. Then we returned to find that Bickley
+had already set the table and was engaged in frying the fish very
+skilfully on the saloon stove, which proved to be well adapted to the
+purpose. He was cross, however, when he found that we had bathed and
+that it was now too late for him to do likewise.
+
+While he was cleaning himself as well as he could in his cabin basin
+and Bastin was boiling water for tea, suddenly I remembered the letter
+from the Danish mate Jacobsen. Concluding that it might now be opened
+as we had certainly parted with most of the _Star of the South_ for the
+last time, I read it. It was as follows:
+
+“The reason, honoured Sir, that I am leaving the ship is that on the
+night I tore up the paper, the spirit controlling the planchette wrote
+these words: ‘After leaving Samoa the _Star of the South_ will be
+wrecked in a hurricane and everybody on board drowned except A. B. and
+B. Get out of her! Get out of her! Don’t be a fool, Jacob, unless you
+want to come over here at once. Take our advice and get out of her and
+you will live to be old.—SKOLL.”
+
+
+“Sir, I am not a coward but I know that this will happen, for that
+spirit which signs itself Skoll never tells a lie. I did try to give
+the captain a hint to stop at Apia, but he had been drinking and openly
+cursed me and called me a sneaking cheat. So I am going to run away, of
+which I am very much ashamed. But I do not wish to be drowned yet as
+there is a girl whom I want to marry, and my mother I support. You will
+be safe and I hope you will not think too badly of me.—JACOB JACOBSEN.
+    “_P.S_.—It is an awful thing to know the future. Never try to learn
+    that.”
+
+
+I gave this letter to Bastin and Bickley to read and asked them what
+they thought of it.
+
+“Coincidence,” said Bickley. “The man is a weak-minded idiot and heard
+in Samoa that they expected a hurricane.”
+
+“I think,” chimed in Bastin, “that the devil knows how to look after
+his own at any rate for a little while. I dare say it would have been
+much better for him to be drowned.”
+
+“At least he is a deserter and failed in his duty. I never wish to hear
+of him again,” I said.
+
+As a matter of fact I never have. But the incident remains quite
+unexplained either by Bickley or Bastin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+The Orofenans
+
+
+To our shame we had a very pleasant supper that night off the grilled
+fish, which was excellent, and some tinned meat. I say to our shame, in
+a sense, for on our companions the sharks were supping and by rights we
+should have been sunk in woe. I suppose that the sense of our own
+escape intoxicated us. Also, notwithstanding his joviality, none of us
+had cared much for the captain, and his policy had been to keep us
+somewhat apart from the crew, of whom therefore we knew but little. It
+is true that Bastin held services on Sundays, for such as would attend,
+and Bickley had doctored a few of them for minor ailments, but there,
+except for a little casual conversation, our intercourse began and
+ended.
+
+Now the sad fact is that it is hard to be overwhelmed with grief for
+those with whom we are not intimate. We were very sorry and that is all
+that can be said, except that Bastin, being High Church, announced in a
+matter-of-fact way that he meant to put up some petitions for the
+welfare of their souls. To this Bickley retorted that from what he had
+seen of their bodies he was sure they needed them.
+
+Yes, it was a pleasant supper, not made less so by a bottle of
+champagne which Bickley and I shared. Bastin stuck to his tea, not
+because he did not like champagne, but because, as he explained, having
+now come in contact with the heathen it would never do for him to set
+them an example in the use of spirituous liquors.
+
+“However much we may differ, Bastin, I respect you for that sentiment,”
+commented Bickley.
+
+“I don’t know why you should,” answered Bastin; “but if so, you might
+follow my example.”
+
+That night we slept like logs, trusting to our teak door which we
+barricaded, and to Tommy, who was a most excellent watch-dog, to guard
+us against surprise. At any rate we took the risk. As a matter of fact,
+nothing happened, though before dawn Tommy did growl a good deal, for I
+heard him, but as he sank into slumber again on my bed, I did not get
+up. In the morning I found from fresh footprints that two or three men
+had been prowling about the ship, though at a little distance.
+
+We rose early, and taking the necessary precautions, bathed in the
+pool. Then we breakfasted, and having filled every available receptacle
+with water, which took us a long time as these included a large tank
+that supplied the bath, so that we might have at least a week’s supply
+in case of siege, we went on deck and debated what we should do. In the
+end we determined to stop where we were and await events, because, as I
+pointed out, it was necessary that we should discover whether these
+natives were hostile or friendly. In the former event we could hold our
+own on the ship, whereas away from it we must be overwhelmed; in the
+latter there was always time to move inland.
+
+About ten o’clock when we were seated on stools smoking, with our guns
+by our side—for here, owing to the overhanging cliff in which it will
+be remembered the prow of the ship was buried, we could not be reached
+by missiles thrown from above—we saw numbers of the islanders advancing
+upon us along the beach on either side. They were preceded as before by
+women who bore food on platters and in baskets. These people, all
+talking excitedly and laughing after their fashion, stopped at a
+distance, so we took no notice of them. Presently Marama, clad in his
+feather cloak, and again accompanied by priests or medicine-men,
+appeared walking down the path on the cliff face, and, standing below,
+made salutations and entered into a conversation with us of which I
+give the substance—that is, so far as we could understand it.
+
+He reproached us for not having come to him as he expected we would do.
+We replied that we preferred to remain where we were until we were sure
+of our greeting and asked him what was the position. He explained that
+only once before, in the time of his grandfather, had any people
+reached their shores, also during a great storm as we had done. They
+were dark-skinned men like themselves, three of them, but whence they
+came was never known, since they were at once seized and sacrificed to
+the god Oro, which was the right thing to do in such a case.
+
+We asked whether he would consider it right to sacrifice us. He
+replied:
+
+Certainly, unless we were too strong, being gods ourselves, or unless
+an arrangement could be concluded. We asked—what arrangement? He
+replied that we must make them gifts; also that we must do what we had
+promised and cure him—the chief—of the disease which had tormented him
+for years. In that event everything would be at our disposal and we,
+with all our belongings, should become _taboo_, holy, not to be
+touched. None would attempt to harm us, nothing should be stolen under
+penalty of death.
+
+We asked him to come up on the deck with only one companion that his
+sickness might be ascertained, and after much hesitation he consented
+to do so. Bickley made an examination of the growth and announced that
+he believed it could be removed with perfect safety as the attachment
+to the neck was very slight, but of course there was always a risk.
+This was explained to him with difficulty, and much talk followed
+between him and his followers who gathered on the beach beneath the
+ship. They seemed adverse to the experiment, till Marama grew furious
+with them and at last burst into tears saying that he could no longer
+drag this terrible burden about with him, and he touched the growth. He
+would rather die. Then they gave way.
+
+I will tell the rest as shortly as I can.
+
+A hideous wooden idol was brought on board, wrapped in leaves and
+feathers, and upon it the chief and his head people swore safety to us
+whether he lived or died, making us the guests of their land. There
+were, however, two provisos made, or as such we understood them. These
+seemed to be that we should offer no insult or injury to their god, and
+secondly, that we should not set foot on the island in the lake. It was
+not till afterwards that it occurred to me that this must refer to the
+mountain top which appeared in the inland sheet of water. To those
+stipulations we made no answer. Indeed, the Orofenans did all the
+talking. Finally, they ratified their oaths by a man who, I suppose,
+was a head priest, cutting his arm and rubbing the blood from it on the
+lips of the idol; also upon those of the chief. I should add that
+Bastin had retired as soon as he saw that false god appear, of which I
+was glad, since I felt sure that he would make a scene.
+
+The operation took place that afternoon and on the ship, for when once
+Marama had made up his mind to trust us he did so very thoroughly. It
+was performed on deck in the presence of an awed multitude who watched
+from the shore, and when they saw Bickley appear in a clean nightshirt
+and wash his hands, uttered a groan of wonder. Evidently they
+considered it a magical and religious ceremony; indeed ever afterwards
+they called Bickley the Great Priest, or sometimes the Great Healer in
+later days. This was a grievance to Bastin who considered that he had
+been robbed of his proper title, especially when he learned that among
+themselves he was only known as “the Bellower,” because of the loud
+voice in which he addressed them. Nor did Bickley particularly
+appreciate the compliment.
+
+With my help he administered the chloroform, which was done under
+shelter of a sail for fear lest the people should think that we were
+smothering their chief. Then the operation went on to a satisfactory
+conclusion. I omit the details, but an electric battery and a red-hot
+wire came into play.
+
+“There,” said Bickley triumphantly when he had finished tying the
+vessels and made everything neat and tidy with bandages, “I was afraid
+he might bleed to death, but I don’t think there is any fear of that
+now, for I have made a real job of it.” Then advancing with the horrid
+tumour in his hands he showed it in triumph to the crowd beneath, who
+groaned again and threw themselves on to their faces. Doubtless now it
+is the most sacred relic of Orofena.
+
+When Marama came out of the anesthetic, Bickley gave him something
+which sent him to sleep for twelve hours, during all which time his
+people waited beneath. This was our dangerous period, for our
+difficulty was to persuade them that he was not dead, although Bickley
+had assured them that he would sleep for a time while the magic worked.
+Still, I was very glad when he woke up on the following morning, and
+two or three of his leading men could see that he was alive. The rest
+was lengthy but simple, consisting merely in keeping him quiet and on a
+suitable diet until there was no fear of the wound opening. We achieved
+it somehow with the help of an intelligent native woman who, I suppose,
+was one of his wives, and five days later were enabled to present him
+healed, though rather tottery, to his affectionate subjects.
+
+It was a great scene, which may be imagined. They bore him away in a
+litter with the native woman to watch him and another to carry the
+relic preserved in a basket, and us they acclaimed as gods.
+Thenceforward we had nothing to fear in Orofena—except Bastin, though
+this we did not know at the time.
+
+All this while we had been living on our ship and growing very bored
+there, although we employed the empty hours in conversation with
+selected natives, thereby improving our knowledge of the language.
+Bickley had the best of it, since already patients began to arrive
+which occupied him. One of the first was that man whom Tommy had
+bitten. He was carried to us in an almost comatose state, suffering
+apparently from the symptoms of snake poisoning.
+
+Afterward it turned out that he conceived Tommy to be a divine but most
+venomous lizard that could make a very horrible noise, and began to
+suffer as one might do from the bite of such a creature. Nothing that
+Bickley could do was enough to save him and ultimately he died in
+convulsions, a circumstance that enormously enhanced Tommy’s
+reputation. To tell the truth, we took advantage of it to explain that
+Tommy was in fact a supernatural animal, a sort of tame demon which
+only harmed people who had malevolent intentions towards those he
+served or who tried to steal any of their possessions or to intrude
+upon them at inconvenient hours, especially in the dark. So terrible
+was he, indeed, that even the skill of the Great Priest, _i.e._,
+Bickley, could not avail to save any whom once he had bitten in his
+rage. Even to be barked at by him was dangerous and conveyed a curse
+that might last for generations.
+
+All this we set out when Bastin was not there. He had wandered off, as
+he said, to look for shells, but as we knew, to practise religious
+orations in the Polynesian tongue with the waves for audience, as
+Demosthenes is said to have done to perfect himself as a political
+orator. Personally I admit that I relied more on the terrors of Tommy
+to safeguard us from theft and other troubles than I did upon those of
+the native _taboo_ and the priestly oaths.
+
+The end of it all was that we left our ship, having padlocked up the
+door (the padlock, we explained, was a magical instrument that bit
+worse than Tommy), and moved inland in a kind of triumphal procession,
+priests and singers going before (the Orofenans sang extremely well)
+and minstrels following after playing upon instruments like flutes,
+while behind came the bearers carrying such goods as we needed. They
+took us to a beautiful place in a grove of palms on a ridge where grew
+many breadfruit trees, that commanded a view of the ocean upon one side
+and of the lake with the strange brown mountain top on the other. Here
+in the midst of the native gardens we found that a fine house had been
+built for us of a kind of mud brick and thatched with palm leaves,
+surrounded by a fenced courtyard of beaten earth and having wide
+overhanging verandahs; a very comfortable place indeed in that
+delicious climate. In it we took up our abode, visiting the ship
+occasionally to see that all was well there, and awaiting events.
+
+For Bickley these soon began to happen in the shape of an
+ever-increasing stream of patients. The population of the island was
+considerable, anything between five and ten thousand, so far as we
+could judge, and among these of course there were a number of sick.
+Ophthalmia, for instance, was a prevalent disease, as were the growths
+such as Marama had suffered from, to say nothing of surgical cases and
+those resulting from accident or from nervous ailments. With all of
+these Bickley was called upon to deal, which he did with remarkable
+success by help of his books on Tropical Diseases and his ample
+supplies of medical necessaries.
+
+At first he enjoyed it very much, but when we had been established in
+the house for about three weeks he remarked, after putting in a solid
+ten hours of work, that for all the holiday he was getting he might as
+well be back at his old practice, with the difference that there he was
+earning several thousands a year. Just then a poor woman arrived with a
+baby in convulsions to whose necessities he was obliged to sacrifice
+his supper, after which came a man who had fallen from a palm tree and
+broken his leg.
+
+Nor did I escape, since having somehow or other established a
+reputation for wisdom, as soon as I had mastered sufficient of the
+language, every kind of knotty case was laid before me for decision. In
+short, I became a sort of Chief Justice—not an easy office as it
+involved the acquirement of the native law which was intricate and
+peculiar, especially in matrimonial cases.
+
+At these oppressive activities Bastin looked on with a gloomy eye.
+
+“You fellows seem very busy,” he said one evening; “but I can find
+nothing to do. They don’t seem to want me, and merely to set a good
+example by drinking water or tea while you swallow whisky and their
+palm wine, or whatever it is, is very negative kind of work, especially
+as I am getting tired of planting things in the garden and playing
+policeman round the wreck which nobody goes near. Even Tommy is better
+off, for at least he can bark and hunt rats.”
+
+“You see,” said Bickley, “we are following our trades. Arbuthnot is a
+lawyer and acts as a judge. I am a surgeon and I may add a general—a
+very general—practitioner and work at medicine in an enormous and
+much-neglected practice. Therefore, you, being a clergyman, should go
+and do likewise. There are some ten thousand people here, but I do not
+observe that as yet you have converted a single one.”
+
+Thus spoke Bickley in a light and unguarded moment with his usual
+object of what is known as “getting a rise” out of Bastin. Little did
+he guess what he was doing.
+
+Bastin thought a while ponderously, then said:
+
+“It is very strange from what peculiar sources Providence sometimes
+sends inspirations. If wisdom flows from babes and sucklings, why
+should it not do so from the well of agnostics and mockers?”
+
+“There is no reason which I can see,” scoffed Bickley, “except that as
+a rule wells do not flow.”
+
+“Your jest is ill-timed and I may add foolish,” continued Bastin. “What
+I was about to add was that you have given me an idea, as it was no
+doubt intended that you should do. I will, metaphorically speaking,
+gird up my loins and try to bear the light into all this heathen
+blackness.”
+
+“Then it is one of the first you ever had, old fellow. But what’s the
+need of girding up your loins in this hot climate?” inquired Bickley
+with innocence. “Pyjamas and that white and green umbrella of yours
+would do just as well.”
+
+Bastin vouchsafed no reply and sat for the rest of that evening plunged
+in deep thought.
+
+On the following morning he approached Marama and asked his leave to
+teach the people about the gods. The chief readily granted this,
+thinking, I believe, that he alluded to ourselves, and orders were
+issued accordingly. They were to the effect that Bastin was to be
+allowed to go everywhere unmolested and to talk to whom he would about
+what he would, to which all must listen with respect.
+
+Thus he began his missionary career in Orofena, working at it, good and
+earnest man that he was, in a way that excited even the admiration of
+Bickley. He started a school for children, which was held under a fine,
+spreading tree. These listened well, and being of exceedingly quick
+intellect soon began to pick up the elements of knowledge. But when he
+tried to persuade them to clothe their little naked bodies his failure
+was complete, although after much supplication some of the bigger girls
+did arrive with a chaplet of flowers—round their necks!
+
+Also he preached to the adults, and here again was very successful in a
+way, especially after he became more familiar with the language. They
+listened; to a certain extent they understood; they argued and put to
+poor Bastin the most awful questions such as the whole Bench of Bishops
+could not have answered. Still he did answer them somehow, and they
+politely accepted his interpretation of their theological riddles. I
+observed that he got on best when he was telling them stories out of
+the Old Testament, such as the account of the creation of the world and
+of human beings, also of the Deluge, etc. Indeed one of their elders
+said—Yes, this was quite true. They had heard it all before from their
+fathers, and that once the Deluge had taken place round Orofena,
+swallowing up great countries, but sparing them because they were so
+good.
+
+Bastin, surprised, asked them who had caused the deluge. They replied,
+Oro which was the name of their god, Oro who dwelt yonder on the
+mountain in the lake, and whose representation they worshipped in
+idols. He said that God dwelt in Heaven, to which they replied with
+calm certainty:
+
+“No, no, he dwells on the mountain in the lake,” which was why they
+never dared to approach that mountain.
+
+Indeed it was only by giving the name Oro to the Divinity and admitting
+that He might dwell in the mountain as well as everywhere else, that
+Bastin was able to make progress. Having conceded this, not without
+scruples, however, he did make considerable progress, so much, in fact,
+that I perceived that the priests of Oro were beginning to grow very
+jealous of him and of his increasing authority with the people. Bastin
+was naturally triumphant, and even exclaimed exultingly that within a
+year he would have half of the population baptised.
+
+“Within a year, my dear fellow,” said Bickley, “you will have your
+throat cut as a sacrifice, and probably ours also. It is a pity, too,
+as within that time I should have stamped out ophthalmia and some other
+diseases in the island.”
+
+Here, leaving Bastin and his good work aside for a while, I will say a
+little about the country. From information which I gathered on some
+journeys that I made and by inquiries from the chief Marama, who had
+become devoted to us, I found that Orofena was quite a large place. In
+shape the island was circular, a broad band of territory surrounding
+the great lake of which I have spoken, that in its turn surrounded a
+smaller island from which rose the mountain top. No other land was
+known to be near the shores of Orofena, which had never been visited by
+anyone except the strangers a hundred years ago or so, who were
+sacrificed and eaten. Most of the island was covered with forest which
+the inhabitants lacked the energy, and indeed had no tools, to fell.
+They were an extremely lazy people and would only cultivate enough
+bananas and other food to satisfy their immediate needs. In truth they
+lived mostly upon breadfruit and other products of the wild trees.
+
+Thus it came about that in years of scarcity through drought or
+climatic causes, which prevented the forest trees from bearing, they
+suffered very much from hunger. In such years hundreds of them would
+perish and the remainder resorted to the dreadful expedient of
+cannibalism. Sometimes, too, the shoals of fish avoided their shores,
+reducing them to great misery. Their only domestic animal was the pig
+which roamed about half wild and in no great numbers, for they had
+never taken the trouble to breed it in captivity. Their resources,
+therefore, were limited, which accounted for the comparative smallness
+of the population, further reduced as it was by a wicked habit of
+infanticide practised in order to lighten the burden of bringing up
+children.
+
+They had no traditions as to how they reached this land, their belief
+being that they had always been there but that their forefathers were
+much greater than they. They were poetical, and sang songs in a
+language which themselves they could not understand; they said that it
+was the tongue their forefathers had spoken. Also they had several
+strange customs of which they did not know the origin. My own opinion,
+which Bickley shared, was that they were in fact a shrunken and
+deteriorated remnant of some high race now coming to its end through
+age and inter-breeding. About them indeed, notwithstanding their
+primitive savagery which in its qualities much resembled that of other
+Polynesians, there was a very curious air of antiquity. One felt that
+they had known the older world and its mysteries, though now both were
+forgotten. Also their language, which in time we came to speak
+perfectly, was copious, musical, and expressive in its idioms.
+
+One circumstance I must mention. In walking about the country I
+observed all over it enormous holes, some of them measuring as much as
+a hundred yards across, with a depth of fifty feet or more, and this
+not on alluvial lands although there traces of them existed also, but
+in solid rock. What this rock was I do not know as none of us were
+geologists, but it seemed to me to partake of the nature of granite.
+Certainly it was not coral like that on and about the coast, but of a
+primeval formation.
+
+When I asked Marama what caused these holes, he only shrugged his
+shoulders and said he did not know, but their fathers had declared that
+they were made by stones falling from heaven. This, of course,
+suggested meteorites to my mind. I submitted the idea to Bickley, who,
+in one of his rare intervals of leisure, came with me to make an
+examination.
+
+“If they were meteorites,” he said, “of which a shower struck the earth
+in some past geological age, all life must have been destroyed by them
+and their remains ought to exist at the bottom of the holes. To me they
+look more like the effect of high explosives, but that, of course, is
+impossible, though I don’t know what else could have caused such
+craters.”
+
+Then he went back to his work, for nothing that had to do with
+antiquity interested Bickley very much. The present and its problems
+were enough for him, he would say, who neither had lived in the past
+nor expected to have any share in the future.
+
+As I remained curious I made an opportunity to scramble to the bottom
+of one of these craters, taking with me some of the natives with their
+wooden tools. Here I found a good deal of soil either washed down from
+the surface or resulting from the decomposition of the rock, though
+oddly enough in it nothing grew. I directed them to dig. After a while
+to my astonishment there appeared a corner of a great worked stone
+quite unlike that of the crater, indeed it seemed to me to be a marble.
+Further examination showed that this block was most beautifully carved
+in bas-relief, apparently with a design of leaves and flowers. In the
+disturbed soil also I picked up a life-sized marble hand of a woman
+exquisitely finished and apparently broken from a statue that might
+have been the work of one of the great Greek sculptors. Moreover, on
+the third finger of this hand was a representation of a ring whereof,
+unfortunately, the bezel had been destroyed.
+
+I put the hand in my pocket, but as darkness was coming on, I could not
+pursue the research and disinter the block. When I wished to return the
+next day, I was informed politely by Marama that it would not be safe
+for me to do so as the priests of Oro declared that if I sought to
+meddle with the “buried things the god would grow angry and bring
+disaster on me.”
+
+When I persisted he said that at least I must go alone since no native
+would accompany me, and added earnestly that he prayed me not to go. So
+to my great regret and disappointment I was obliged to give up the
+idea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+Bastin Attempts the Martyr’s Crown
+
+
+That carved stone and the marble hand took a great hold of my
+imagination. What did they mean? How could they have come to the bottom
+of that hole, unless indeed they were part of some building and its
+ornaments which had been destroyed in the neighbourhood? The stone of
+which we had only uncovered a corner seemed far too big to have been
+carried there from any ship; it must have weighed several tons.
+Besides, ships do not carry such things about the world, and none had
+visited this island during the last two centuries at any rate, or local
+tradition would have recorded so wonderful a fact. Were there, then,
+once edifices covered with elegant carving standing on this place, and
+were they adorned with lovely statues that would not have disgraced the
+best period of Greek art? The thing was incredible except on the
+supposition that these were relics of an utterly lost civilisation.
+
+Bickley was as much puzzled as myself. All he could say was that the
+world was infinitely old and many things might have happened in it
+whereof we had no record. Even Bastin was excited for a little while,
+but as his imagination was represented by zero, all he could say was:
+
+“I suppose someone left them there, and anyhow it doesn’t matter much,
+does it?”
+
+But I, who have certain leanings towards the ancient and mysterious,
+could not be put off in this fashion. I remembered that unapproachable
+mountain in the midst of the lake and that on it appeared to be
+something which looked like ruins as seen from the top of the cliff
+through glasses. At any rate this was a point that I might clear up.
+
+Saying nothing to anybody, one morning I slipped away and walked to the
+edge of the lake, a distance of five or six miles over rough country.
+Having arrived there I perceived that the cone-shaped mountain in the
+centre, which was about a mile from the lake shore, was much larger
+than I had thought, quite three hundred feet high indeed, and with a
+very large circumference. Further, its sides evidently once had been
+terraced, and it was on one of these broad terraces, half-way up and
+facing towards the rising sun, that the ruin-like remains were heaped.
+I examined them through my glasses. Undoubtedly it was a cyclopean ruin
+built of great blocks of coloured stone which seemed to have been
+shattered by earthquake or explosion. There were the pillars of a
+mighty gateway and the remains of walls.
+
+I trembled with excitement as I stared and stared. Could I not get to
+the place and see for myself? I observed that from the flat bush-clad
+land at the foot of the mountain, ran out what seemed to be the residue
+of a stone pier which ended in a large table-topped rock between two
+and three hundred feet across. But even this was too far to reach by
+swimming, besides for aught I knew there might be alligators in that
+lake. I walked up and down its borders, till presently I came to a path
+which led into a patch of some variety of cotton palm.
+
+Following this path I discovered a boat-house thatched over with palm
+leaves. Inside it were two good canoes with their paddles, floating and
+tied to the stumps of trees by fibre ropes. Instantly I made up my mind
+that I would paddle to the island and investigate. Just as I was about
+to step into one of the canoes the light was cut off. Looking up I saw
+that a man was crouching in the door-place of the boat-house in order
+to enter, and paused guiltily.
+
+“Friend-from-the-Sea” (that was the name that these islanders had given
+to me), said the voice of Marama, “say—what are you doing here?”
+
+“I am about to take a row on the lake, Chief,” I answered carelessly.
+
+“Indeed, Friend. Have we then treated you so badly that you are tired
+of life?”
+
+“What do you mean?” I asked.
+
+“Come out into the sunlight, Friend, and I will explain to you.”
+
+I hesitated till I saw Marama lifting the heavy wooden spear he carried
+and remembered that I was unarmed. Then I came out.
+
+“What does all this mean, Chief?” I asked angrily when we were clear of
+the patch of cotton palm.
+
+“I mean, Friend, that you have been very near to making a longer
+journey than you thought. Have patience now and listen to me. I saw you
+leaving the village this morning and followed, suspecting your purpose.
+Yes, I followed alone, saying nothing to the priests of Oro who
+fortunately were away watching the Bellower for their own reasons. I
+saw you searching out the secrets of the mountain with those magic
+tubes that make things big that are small, and things that are far off
+come near, and I followed you to the canoes.”
+
+“All that is plain enough, Marama. But why?”
+
+“Have I not told you, Friend-from-the-Sea, that yonder hill which is
+called Orofena, whence this island takes its name, is sacred?”
+
+“You said so, but what of it?”
+
+“This: to set foot thereon is to die and, I suppose, great as you are,
+you, too, can die like others. At least, although I love you, had you
+not come away from that canoe I was about to discover whether this is
+so.”
+
+“Then for what are the canoes used?” I asked with irritation.
+
+“You see that flat rock, Friend, with the hole beyond, which is the
+mouth of a cave that appeared only in the great storm that brought you
+to our land? They are used to convey offerings which are laid upon the
+rock. Beyond it no man may go, and since the beginning no man has ever
+gone.”
+
+“Offerings to whom?”
+
+“To the Oromatuas, the spirits of the great dead who live there.”
+
+“Oromatuas? Oro! It is always something to do with Oro. Who and what is
+Oro?”
+
+“Oro is a god, Friend, though it is true that the priests say that
+above him there is a greater god called Degai, the Creator, the Fate
+who made all things and directs all things.”
+
+“Very well, but why do you suppose that Oro, the servant of Degai,
+lives in that mountain? I thought that he lived in a grove yonder where
+your priests, as I am told, have an image of him.”
+
+“I do not know, Friend-from-the-Sea, but so it has been held from the
+beginning. The image in the grove is only visited by his spirit from
+time to time. Now, I pray you, come back and before the priests
+discover that you have been here, and forget that there are any canoes
+upon this lake.”
+
+So, thinking it wisest, I turned the matter with a laugh and walked
+away with him to the village. On our road I tried to extract some more
+information but without success. He did not know who built the ruin
+upon the mountain, or who destroyed it. He did not know how the
+terraces came there. All he knew was that during the convulsion of
+Nature which resulted in the tidal wave that had thrown our ship upon
+the island, the mountain had been seen to quiver like a tree in the
+wind as though within it great forces were at work. Then it was
+observed to have risen a good many more feet above the surface of the
+lake, as might be noted by the water mark upon the shore, and then also
+the mouth of the cave had appeared. The priests said that all this was
+because the Oromatuas who dwelt there were stirring, which portended
+great things. Indeed great things had happened—for had we not arrived
+in their land?
+
+I thanked him for what he had told me, and, as there was nothing more
+to be learned, dropped the subject which was never mentioned between us
+again, at least not for a long while. But in my heart I determined that
+I would reach that mountain even though to do so I must risk my life.
+Something seemed to call me to the place; it was as though I were being
+drawn by a magnet.
+
+As it happened, before so very long I did go to the mountain, not of my
+own will but because I was obliged. It came about thus. One night I
+asked Bastin how he was getting on with his missionary work. He
+replied: Very well indeed, but there was one great obstacle in his
+path, the idol in the Grove. Were it not for this accursed image he
+believed that the whole island would become Christian. I asked him to
+be more plain. He explained that all his work was thwarted by this
+idol, since his converts declared that they did not dare to be baptised
+while it sat there in the Grove. If they did, the spirit that was in it
+would bewitch them and perhaps steal out at night and murder them.
+
+“The spirit being our friends the sorcerers,” I suggested.
+
+“That’s it, Arbuthnot. Do you know, I believe those devilish men
+sometimes offer human sacrifices to this satanic fetish, when there is
+a drought or anything of that sort.”
+
+“I can quite believe it,” I answered, “but as they will scarcely remove
+their god and with it their own livelihood and authority, I am afraid
+that as we don’t want to be sacrificed, there is nothing to be done.”
+
+At this moment I was called away. As I went I heard Bastin muttering
+something about martyrs, but paid no attention. Little did I guess what
+was going on in his pious but obstinate mind. In effect it was
+this—that if no one else would remove that idol he was quite ready to
+do it himself.
+
+However, he was very cunning over that business, almost Jesuitical
+indeed. Not one word did he breathe of his dark plans to me, and still
+less to Bickley. He just went on with his teaching, lamenting from time
+to time the stumbling-block of the idol and expressing wonder as to how
+it might be circumvented by a change in the hearts of the islanders, or
+otherwise. Sad as it is to record, in fact, dear old Bastin went as
+near to telling a fib in connection with this matter as I suppose he
+had ever done in his life. It happened thus. One day Bickley’s sharp
+eye caught sight of Bastin walking about with what looked like a bottle
+of whisky in his pocket.
+
+“Hallo, old fellow,” he said, “has the self-denying ordinance broken
+down? I didn’t know that you took pegs on the sly,” and he pointed to
+the bottle.
+
+“If you are insinuating, Bickley, that I absorb spirits
+surreptitiously, you are more mistaken than usual, which is saying a
+good deal. This bottle contains, not Scotch whisky but paraffin,
+although I admit that its label may have misled you, unintentionally,
+so far as I am concerned.”
+
+“What are you going to do with the paraffin?” asked Bickley.
+
+Bastin coloured through his tan and replied awkwardly:
+
+“Paraffin is very good to keep away mosquitoes if one can stand the
+smell of it upon one’s skin. Not that I have brought it here with that
+sole object. The truth is that I am anxious to experiment with a lamp
+of my own design made—um—of native wood,” and he departed in a hurry.
+
+“When next old Bastin wants to tell a lie,” commented Bickley, “he
+should make up his mind as to what it is to be, and stick to it. I
+wonder what he is after with that paraffin? Not going to dose any of my
+patients with it, I hope. He was arguing the other day that it is a
+great remedy taken internally, being quite unaware that the lamp
+variety is not used for that purpose.”
+
+“Perhaps he means to swallow some himself, just to show that he is
+right,” I suggested.
+
+“The stomach-pump is at hand,” said Bickley, and the matter dropped.
+
+Next morning I got up before it was light. Having some elementary
+knowledge of the main facts of astronomy, which remained with me from
+boyhood when I had attended lectures on the subject, which I had tried
+to refresh by help of an encyclopedia I had brought from the ship, I
+wished to attempt to obtain an idea of our position by help of the
+stars. In this endeavour, I may say, I failed absolutely, as I did not
+know how to take a stellar or any other observation.
+
+On my way out of our native house I observed, by the lantern I carried,
+that the compartment of it occupied by Bastin was empty, and wondered
+whither he had gone at that hour. On arriving at my observation-post, a
+rocky eminence on open ground, where, with Tommy at my side, I took my
+seat with a telescope, I was astonished to see or rather to hear a
+great number of the natives walking past the base of the mound towards
+the bush. Then I remembered that some one, Marama, I think, had
+informed me that there was to be a great sacrifice to Oro at dawn on
+that day. After this I thought no more of the matter but occupied
+myself in a futile study of the heavenly bodies. At length the dawn
+broke and put a period to my labours.
+
+Glancing round me before I descended from the little hill, I saw a
+flame of light appear suddenly about half a mile or more away among
+those trees which I knew concealed the image of Oro. On this personally
+I had never had the curiosity to look, as I knew that it was only a
+hideous idol stuck over with feathers and other bedizenments. The flame
+shot suddenly straight into the still air and was followed a few
+seconds later by the sound of a dull explosion, after which it went
+out. Also it was followed by something else—a scream of rage from an
+infuriated mob.
+
+At the foot of the hill I stopped to wonder what these sounds might
+mean. Then of a sudden appeared Bickley, who had been attending some
+urgent case, and asked me who was exploding gunpowder. I told him that
+I had no idea.
+
+“Then I have,” he answered. “It is that ass Bastin up to some game. Now
+I guess why he wanted that paraffin. Listen to the row. What are they
+after?”
+
+“Sacrificing Bastin, perhaps,” I replied, half in jest. “Have you your
+revolver?”
+
+He nodded. We always wore our pistols if we went out during the dark
+hours.
+
+“Then perhaps we had better go to see.”
+
+We started, and had not covered a hundred yards before a girl, whom I
+recognised as one of Bastin’s converts, came flying towards us and
+screaming out, “Help! Help! They kill the Bellower with fire! They cook
+him like a pig!”
+
+“Just what I expected,” said Bickley.
+
+Then we ran hard, as evidently there was no time to lose. While we went
+I extracted from the terrified girl, whom we forced to show us the way,
+that as the sacrifice was about to be offered Bastin had appeared, and,
+“making fire,” applied it to the god Oro, who instantly burst into
+flame. Then he ran back, calling out that the devil was dead. As he did
+so there was a loud explosion and Oro flew into pieces. His burning
+head went a long way into the air and, falling on to one of the
+priests, killed him. Thereon the other priests and the people seized
+the Bellower and made him fast. Now they were engaged in heating an
+oven in which to put him to cook. When it was ready they would eat him
+in honour of Oro.
+
+“And serve him right too!” gasped Bickley, who, being stout, was not a
+good runner. “Why can’t he leave other people’s gods alone instead of
+blowing them up with gunpowder?”
+
+“Don’t know,” I answered. “Hope we shall get there in time!”
+
+“To be cooked and eaten with Bastin!” wheezed Bickley, after which his
+breath gave out.
+
+As it chanced we did, for these stone ovens take a long time to heat.
+There by the edge of his fiery grave with his hands and legs bound in
+palm-fibre shackles, stood Bastin, quite unmoved, smiling indeed, in a
+sort of seraphic way which irritated us both extremely. Round him
+danced the infuriated priests of Oro, and round them, shrieking and
+howling with rage, was most of the population of Orofena. We rushed up
+so suddenly that none tried to stop us, and took our stand on either
+side of him, producing our pistols as we did so.
+
+“Thank you for coming,” said Bastin in the silence which followed;
+“though I don’t think it is the least use. I cannot recall that any of
+the early martyrs were ever roasted and eaten, though, of course,
+throwing them into boiling oil or water was fairly common. I take it
+that the rite is sacrificial and even in a low sense, sacramental, not
+merely one of common cannibalism.”
+
+I stared at him, and Bickley gasped out:
+
+“If you are to be eaten, what does it matter why you are eaten?”
+
+“Oh!” replied Bastin; “there is all the difference in the world, though
+it is one that I cannot expect you to appreciate. And now please be
+quiet as I wish to say my prayers. I imagine that those stones will be
+hot enough to do their office within twenty minutes or so, which is not
+very long.”
+
+At that moment Marama appeared, evidently in a state of great
+perturbation. With him were some of the priests or sorcerers who were
+dancing about as I imagine the priests of Baal must have done, and
+filled with fury. They rolled their eyes, they stuck out their tongues,
+they uttered weird cries and shook their wooden knives at the placid
+Bastin.
+
+“What is the matter?” I asked sternly of the chief.
+
+“This, Friend-from-the-Sea. The Bellower there, when the sacrifice was
+about to be offered to Oro at the dawn, rushed forward, and having
+thrust something between the legs of the image of the god, poured
+yellow water over it, and with fire caused it to burst into fierce
+flame. Then he ran away and mocked the god who presently, with a loud
+report, flew into pieces and killed that man. Therefore the Bellower
+must be sacrificed.”
+
+“What to?” I asked. “The image has gone and the piece of it that
+ascended fell not upon the Bellower, as would have happened if the god
+had been angry with him, but on one of its own priests, whom it killed.
+Therefore, having been sacrificed by the god itself, he it is that
+should be eaten, not the Bellower, who merely did what his Spirit bade
+him.”
+
+This ingenious argument seemed to produce some effect upon Marama, but
+to the priests it did not at all appeal.
+
+“Eat them all!” these cried. “They are the enemies of Oro and have
+worked sacrilege!”
+
+Moreover, to judge from their demeanour, the bulk of the people seemed
+to agree with them. Things began to look very ugly. The priests rushed
+forward, threatening us with their wooden weapons, and one of them even
+aimed a blow at Bickley, which only missed him by an inch or two.
+
+“Look here, my friend,” called the doctor whose temper was rising, “you
+name me the Great Priest or Great Healer, do you not? Well, be careful,
+lest I should show you that I can kill as well as heal!”
+
+Not in the least intimidated by this threat the man, a great bedizened
+fellow who literally was foaming at the mouth with rage, rushed forward
+again, his club raised, apparently with the object of dashing out
+Bickley’s brains.
+
+Suddenly Bickley lifted his revolver and fired. The man, shot through
+the heart, sprang into the air and fell upon his face—stone dead. There
+was consternation, for these people had never seen us shoot anything
+before, and were quite unacquainted with the properties of firearms,
+which they supposed to be merely instruments for making a noise. They
+stared, they gasped in fear and astonishment, and then they fled,
+pursued by Tommy, barking, leaving us alone with the two dead men.
+
+“It was time to teach them a lesson,” said Bickley as he replaced the
+empty cartridge, and, seizing the dead man, rolled him into the burning
+pit.
+
+“Yes,” I answered; “but presently, when they have got over their
+fright, they will come back to teach us one.”
+
+Bastin said nothing; he seemed too dazed at the turn events had taken.
+
+“What do you suggest?” asked Bickley.
+
+“Flight,” I answered.
+
+“Where to—the ship? We might hold that.”
+
+“No; that is what they expect. Look! They are cutting off our road
+there. To the island in the lake where they dare not follow us, for it
+is holy ground.”
+
+“How are we going to live on the island?” asked Bickley.
+
+“I don’t know,” I replied; “but I am quite certain that if we stay here
+we shall die.”
+
+“Very well,” he said; “let us try it.”
+
+While we were speaking I was cutting Bastin’s bonds. “Thank you,” he
+said. “It is a great relief to stretch one’s arms after they have been
+compressed with cords. But at the same time, I do not know that I am
+really grateful. The martyr’s crown was hanging above me, so to speak,
+and now it has vanished into the pit, like that man whom Bickley
+murdered.”
+
+“Look here,” exclaimed the exasperated Bickley, “if you say much more,
+Bastin, I’ll chuck you into the pit too, to look for your martyr’s
+crown, for I think you have done enough mischief for one morning.”
+
+“If you are trying to shift the responsibility for that unfortunate
+man’s destruction on to me—”
+
+“Oh! shut it and trot,” broke in Bickley. “Those infernal savages are
+coming with your blessed converts leading the van.”
+
+So we “trotted” at no mean pace. As we passed it, Bastin stooped down
+and picked up the head of the image of Oro, much as Atalanta in Academy
+pictures is represented as doing to the apples, and bore it away in
+triumph.
+
+“I know it is scorched,” he ejaculated at intervals, “but they might
+trim it up and stick it on to a new body as the original false god. Now
+they _can’t_, for there’s nothing left.”
+
+As a matter of fact, we were never in any real danger, for our pursuit
+was very half-hearted indeed. To begin with, now that their first rage
+was over, the Orofenans who were fond of us had no particular wish to
+do us to death, while the ardour of their sorcerers, who wished this
+very much, had been greatly cooled by the mysterious annihilation of
+their idol and the violent deaths of two of their companions, which
+they thought might be reduplicated in their own persons. So it came
+about that the chase, if noisy, was neither close nor eager.
+
+We reached the edge of the lake where was the boat-house of which I
+have spoken already, travelling at little more than a walk. Here we
+made Bastin unfasten the better of the two canoes that by good luck was
+almost filled with offerings, which doubtless, according to custom,
+must be made upon the day of this feast to Oro, while we watched
+against surprise at the boat-house door. When he was ready we slipped
+in and took our seats, Tommy jumping in after us, and pushed the canoe,
+now very heavily laden, out into the lake.
+
+Here, at a distance of about forty paces, which we judged to be beyond
+wooden spear-throw, we rested upon our paddles to see what would
+happen. All the crowd of islanders had rushed to the lake edge where
+they stood staring at us stupidly. Bastin, thinking the occasion
+opportune, lifted the hideous head of the idol which he had carefully
+washed, and began to preach on the downfall of “the god of the Grove.”
+
+This action of his appeared to awake memories or forebodings in the
+minds of his congregation. Perhaps some ancient prophecy was
+concerned—I do not know. At any rate, one of the priests shouted
+something, whereon everybody began to talk at once. Then, stooping
+down, they threw water from the lake over themselves and rubbed its
+sand and mud into their hair, all the while making genuflexions toward
+the mountain in the middle, after which they turned and departed.
+
+“Don’t you think we had better go back?” asked Bastin. “Evidently my
+words have touched them and their minds are melting beneath the light
+of Truth.”
+
+“Oh! by all means,” replied Bickley with sarcasm; “for then their
+spears will touch _us_, and our bodies will soon be melting above the
+fires of that pit.”
+
+“Perhaps you are right,” said Bastin; “at least, I admit that you have
+made matters very difficult by your unjustifiable homicide of that
+priest who I do not think meant to injure you seriously, and really was
+not at all a bad fellow, though opinionated in some ways. Also, I do
+not suppose that anybody is expected, as it were, to run his head into
+the martyr’s crown. When it settles there of itself it is another
+matter.”
+
+“Like a butterfly!” exclaimed the enraged Bickley.
+
+“Yes, if you like to put it that way, though the simile seems a very
+poor one; like a sunbeam would be better.”
+
+Here Bickley gave way with his paddle so vigorously that the canoe was
+as nearly as possible upset into the lake.
+
+In due course we reached the flat Rock of Offerings, which proved to be
+quite as wide as a double croquet lawn and much longer.
+
+“What are those?” I asked, pointing to certain knobs on the edge of the
+rock at a spot where a curved projecting point made a little harbour.
+
+Bickley examined them, and answered:
+
+“I should say that they are the remains of stone mooring-posts worn
+down by many thousands of years of weather. Yes, look, there is the cut
+of the cables upon the base of that one, and very big cables they must
+have been.”
+
+We stared at one another—that is, Bickley and I did, for Bastin was
+still engaged in contemplating the blackened head of the god which he
+had overthrown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+The Island in the Lake
+
+
+We made the canoe fast and landed on the great rock, to perceive that
+it was really a peninsula. That is to say, it was joined to the main
+land of the lake island by a broad roadway quite fifty yards across,
+which appeared to end in the mouth of the cave. On this causeway we
+noted a very remarkable thing, namely, two grooves separated by an
+exact distance of nine feet which ran into the mouth of the cave and
+vanished there.
+
+“Explain!” said Bickley.
+
+“Paths,” I said, “worn by countless feet walking on them for thousands
+of years.”
+
+“You should cultivate the art of observation, Arbuthnot. What do you
+say, Bastin?”
+
+He stared at the grooves through his spectacles, and replied:
+
+“I don’t say anything, except that I can’t see anybody to make paths
+here. Indeed, the place seems quite unpopulated, and all the Orofenans
+told me that they never landed on it because if they did they would
+die. It is a part of their superstitious nonsense. If you have any idea
+in your head you had better tell us quickly before we breakfast. I am
+very hungry.”
+
+“You always are,” remarked Bickley; “even when most people’s appetites
+might have been affected. Well, I think that this great plateau was
+once a landing-place for flying machines, and that there is the
+air-shed or garage.”
+
+Bastin stared at him.
+
+“Don’t you think we had better breakfast?” he said. “There are two
+roast pigs in that canoe, and lots of other food, enough to last us a
+week, I should say. Of course, I understand that the blood you have
+shed has thrown you off your balance. I believe it has that effect,
+except on the most hardened. Flying machines were only invented a few
+years ago by the brothers Wright in America.”
+
+“Bastin,” said Bickley, “I begin to regret that I did not leave you to
+take part in another breakfast yonder—I mean as the principal dish.”
+
+“It was Providence, not you, who prevented it, Bickley, doubtless
+because I am unworthy of such a glorious end.”
+
+“Then it is lucky that Providence is a good shot with a pistol. Stop
+talking nonsense and listen. If those were paths worn by feet they
+would run to the edge of the rock. They do not. They begin there in
+that gentle depression and slope upwards somewhat steeply. The air
+machines, which were evidently large, lit in the depression, possibly
+as a bird does, and then ran on wheels or sledge skids along the
+grooves to the air-shed in the mountain. Come to the cave and you will
+see.”
+
+“Not till we have breakfast,” said Bastin. “I will get out a pig. As a
+matter of fact, I had no supper last night, as I was taking a class of
+native boys and making some arrangements of my own.”
+
+As for me, I only whistled. It all seemed very feasible. And yet how
+could such things be?
+
+We unloaded the canoe and ate. Bastin’s appetite was splendid. Indeed,
+I had to ask him to remember that when this supply was done I did not
+know where we should find any more.
+
+“Take no thought for the morrow,” he replied. “I have no doubt it will
+come from somewhere,” and he helped himself to another chop.
+
+Never had I admired him so much. Not a couple of hours before he was
+about to be cruelly murdered and eaten. But this did not seem to affect
+him in the least. Bastin was the only man I have ever known with a
+really perfect faith. It is a quality worth having and one that makes
+for happiness. What a great thing not to care whether you are
+breakfasted on, or breakfast!
+
+“I see that there is lots of driftwood about here,” he remarked, “but
+unfortunately we have no tea, so in this climate it is of little use,
+unless indeed we can catch some fish and cook them.”
+
+“Stop talking about eating and help us to haul up the canoe,” said
+Bickley.
+
+Between the three of us we dragged and carried the canoe a long way
+from the lake, fearing lest the natives should come and bear it off
+with our provisions. Then, having given Tommy his breakfast off the
+scraps, we walked to the cave. I glanced at my companions. Bickley’s
+face was alight with scientific eagerness. Here are not dreams or
+speculations, but facts to be learned, it seemed to say, and I will
+learn them. The past is going to show me some of its secrets, to tell
+me how men of long ago lived and died and how far they had advanced to
+that point on the road of civilisation at which I stand in my little
+hour of existence.
+
+That of Bastin was mildly interested, no more. Obviously, with half his
+mind he was thinking of something else, probably of his converts on the
+main island and of the school class fixed for this hour which
+circumstances prevented him from attending. Indeed, like Lot’s wife he
+was casting glances behind him towards the wicked place from which he
+had been forced to flee.
+
+Neither the past nor the future had much real interest for Bastin; any
+more than they had for Bickley, though for different reasons. The
+former was done with; the latter he was quite content to leave in other
+hands. If he had any clear idea thereof, probably that undiscovered
+land appeared to him as a big, pleasant place where are no unbelievers
+or erroneous doctrines, and all sinners will be sternly repressed, in
+which, clad in a white surplice with all proper ecclesiastical
+trappings, he would argue eternally with the Early Fathers and in due
+course utterly annihilate Bickley, that is in a moral sense. Personally
+and as a man he was extremely attached to Bickley as a necessary and
+wrong-headed nuisance to which he had become accustomed.
+
+And I! What did I feel? I do not know; I cannot describe. An
+extraordinary attraction, a semi-spiritual exaltation, I think. That
+cave mouth might have been a magnet drawing my soul. With my body I
+should have been afraid, as I daresay I was, for our circumstances were
+sufficiently desperate. Here we were, castaways upon an island,
+probably uncharted, one of thousands in the recesses of a vast ocean,
+from which we had little chance of escape. More, having offended the
+religious instincts of the primeval inhabitants of that island, we had
+been forced to flee to a rocky mountain in the centre of a lake, where,
+after the food we had brought with us by accident was consumed, we
+should no doubt be forced to choose between death by starvation, or, if
+we attempted to retreat, at the hands of justly infuriated savages. Yet
+these facts did not oppress me, for I was being drawn, drawn to I knew
+not what, and if it were to doom—well, no matter.
+
+Therefore, none of us cared: Bastin because his faith was equal to any
+emergency and there was always that white-robed heaven waiting for him
+beyond which his imagination did not go (I often wondered whether he
+pictured Mrs. Bastin as also waiting; if so, he never said anything
+about her); Bickley because as a child of the Present and a servant of
+knowledge he feared no future, believing it to be for him non-existent,
+and was careless as to when his strenuous hour of life should end; and
+I because I felt that yonder lay my true future; yes, and my true past,
+even though to discover them I must pass through that portal which we
+know as Death.
+
+We reached the mouth of the cave. It was a vast place; perhaps the arch
+of it was a hundred feet high, and I could see that once all this arch
+had been adorned with sculptures. Protected as these were by the
+overhanging rock, for the sculptured mouth of the cave was cut deep
+into the mountain face, they were still so worn that it was impossible
+to discern their details. Time had eaten them away like an acid. But
+what length of time? I could not guess, but it must have been
+stupendous to have worked thus upon that hard and sheltered rock.
+
+This came home to me with added force when, from subsequent
+examination, we learned that the entire mouth of this cave had been
+sealed up for unnumbered ages. It will be remembered that Marama told
+me the mountain in the lake had risen much during the frightful cyclone
+in which we were wrecked and with it the cave mouth which previously
+had been invisible. From the markings on the mountain side it was
+obvious that something of the sort had happened very recently, at any
+rate on this eastern face. That is, either the flat rock had sunk or
+the volcano had been thrown upwards.
+
+Once in the far past the cave had been as it was when we found it. Then
+it had gone down in such a way that the table-rock entirely sealed the
+entrance. Now this entrance was once more open, and although of course
+there was a break in them, the grooves of which I have spoken ran on
+into the cave at only a slightly different level from that at which
+they lay upon the flat rock. And yet, although they had been thus
+sheltered by a great stone curtain in front of them, still these
+sculptures were worn away by the tooth of Time. Of course, however,
+this may have happened to them _before_ they were buried in some
+ancient cataclysm, to be thus resurrected at the hour of our arrival
+upon the island.
+
+Without pausing to make any closer examination of these crumbled
+carvings, we entered the yawning mouth of that great place, following
+and indeed walking in the deep grooves that I have mentioned. Presently
+it seemed to open out as a courtyard might at the end of a passage;
+yes, to open on to some vast place whereof in that gloom we could not
+see the roof or the limits. All we knew was that it must be
+enormous—the echoes of our voices and footsteps told us as much, for
+these seemed to come back to us from high, high above and from far, far
+away. Bickley and I said nothing; we were too overcome. But Bastin
+remarked:
+
+“Did you ever go to Olympia? I did once to see a kind of play where the
+people said nothing, only ran about dressed up. They told me it was
+religious, the sort of thing a clergyman should study. I didn’t think
+it religious at all. It was all about a nun who had a baby.”
+
+“Well, what of it?” snapped Bickley.
+
+“Nothing particular, except that nuns don’t have babies, or if they do
+the fact should not be advertised. But I wasn’t thinking of that. I was
+thinking that this place is like an underground Olympia.”
+
+“Oh, be quiet!” I said, for though Bastin’s description was not bad,
+his monotonous, drawling voice jarred on me in that solemnity.
+
+“Be careful where you walk,” whispered Bickley, for even he seemed
+awed, “there may be pits in this floor.”
+
+“I wish we had a light,” I said, halting.
+
+“If candles are of any use,” broke in Bastin, “as it happens I have a
+packet in my pocket. I took them with me this morning for a certain
+purpose.”
+
+“Not unconnected with the paraffin and the burning of the idol, I
+suppose?” said Bickley. “Hand them over.”
+
+“Yes; if I had been allowed a little more time I intended—”
+
+“Never mind what you intended; we know what you did and that’s enough,”
+said Bickley as he snatched the packet from Bastin’s hand and proceeded
+to undo it, adding, “By heaven! I have no matches, nor have you,
+Arbuthnot!”
+
+“I have a dozen boxes of wax vestas in my other pocket,” said Bastin.
+“You see, they burn so well when you want to get up a fire on a damp
+idol. As you may have noticed, the dew is very heavy here.”
+
+In due course these too were produced. I took possession of them as
+they were too valuable to be left in the charge of Bastin, and,
+extracting a box from the packet, lit two of the candles which were of
+the short thick variety, like those used in carriage-lamps.
+
+Presently they burned up, making two faint stars of light which,
+however, were not strong enough to show us either the roof or the sides
+of that vast place. By their aid we pursued our path, still following
+the grooves till suddenly these came to an end. Now all around us was a
+flat floor of rock which, as we perceived clearly when we pushed aside
+the dust that had gathered thickly on it in the course of ages,
+doubtless from the gradual disintegration of the stony walls, had once
+been polished till it resembled black marble. Indeed, certain cracks in
+the floor appeared to have been filled in with some dark-coloured
+cement. I stood looking at them while Bickley wandered off to the right
+and a little forward, and presently called to me. I walked to him,
+Bastin sticking close to me as I had the other candle, as did the
+little dog, Tommy, who did not like these new surroundings and would
+not leave my heels.
+
+“Look,” said Bickley, holding up his candle, “and tell me—what’s that?”
+
+Before me, faintly shown, was some curious structure of gleaming rods
+made of yellowish metal, which rods appeared to be connected by wires.
+The structure might have been forty feet high and perhaps a hundred
+long. Its bottom part was buried in dust.
+
+“What is that?” asked Bickley again.
+
+I made no answer, for I was thinking. Bastin, however, replied:
+
+“It’s difficult to be sure in this light, but I should think that it
+may be the remains of a cage in which some people who lived here kept
+monkeys, or perhaps it was an aviary. Look at those little ladders for
+the monkeys to climb by, or possibly for the birds to sit on.”
+
+“Are you sure it wasn’t tame angels?” asked Bickley.
+
+“What a ridiculous remark! How can you keep an angel in a cage? I—”
+
+“Aeroplane!” I almost whispered to Bickley.
+
+“You’ve got it!” he answered. “The framework of an aeroplane and a
+jolly large one, too. Only why hasn’t it oxidised?”
+
+“Some indestructible metal,” I suggested. “Gold, for instance, does not
+oxidise.”
+
+He nodded and said:
+
+“We shall have to dig it out. The dust is feet thick about it; we can
+do nothing without spades. Come on.”
+
+We went round to the end of the structure, whatever it might be, and
+presently came to another. Again we went on and came to another, all of
+them being berthed exactly in line.
+
+“What did I tell you?” said Bickley in a voice of triumph. “A whole
+garage full, a regular fleet of aeroplanes!”
+
+“That must be nonsense,” said Bastin, “for I am quite sure that these
+Orofenans cannot make such things. Indeed they have no metal, and even
+cut the throats of pigs with wooden knives.”
+
+Now I began to walk forward, bearing to the left so as to regain our
+former line. We could do nothing with these metal skeletons, and I felt
+that there must be more to find beyond. Presently I saw something
+looming ahead of me and quickened my pace, only to recoil. For there,
+not thirty feet away and perhaps three hundred yards from the mouth of
+the cave, suddenly appeared what looked like a gigantic man. Tommy saw
+it also and barked as dogs do when they are frightened, and the sound
+of his yaps echoed endlessly from every quarter, which scared him to
+silence. Recovering myself I went forward, for now I guessed the truth.
+It was not a man but a statue.
+
+The thing stood upon a huge base which lessened by successive steps,
+eight of them, I think, to its summit. The foot of this base may have
+been a square of fifty feet or rather more; the real support or
+pedestal of the statue, however, was only a square of about six feet.
+The figure itself was little above life-size, or at any rate above our
+life-size, say seven feet in height. It was very peculiar in sundry
+ways.
+
+To begin with, nothing of the body was visible, for it was swathed like
+a corpse. From these wrappings projected one arm, the right, in the
+hand of which was the likeness of a lighted torch. The head was not
+veiled. It was that of a man, long-nosed, thin-lipped, stern-visaged;
+the countenance pervaded by an awful and unutterable calm, as deep as
+that of Buddha only less benign. On the brow was a wreathed head-dress,
+not unlike an Eastern turban, from which sprang two little wings
+resembling in some degree those on the famous Greek head of Hypnos,
+lord of Sleep. Between the folds of the wrappings on the back sprang
+two other wings, enormous wings bent like those of a bird about to take
+flight. Indeed the whole attitude of the figure suggested that it was
+springing from earth to air. It was executed in black basalt or some
+stone of the sort, and very highly finished. For instance, on the bare
+feet and the arm which held the torch could be felt every muscle and
+even some of the veins. In the same way the details of the skull were
+perfectly perceptible to the touch, although at first sight not visible
+on the marble surface. This was ascertained by climbing on the pedestal
+and feeling the face with our hands.
+
+Here I may say that its modelling as well as that of the feet and the
+arm filled Bickley, who, of course, was a highly trained anatomist,
+with absolute amazement. He said that he would never have thought it
+possible that such accuracy could have been reached by an artist
+working in so hard a material.
+
+When the others had arrived we studied this relic as closely as our two
+candles would allow, and in turn expressed our opinions of its
+significance. Bastin thought that if those things down there were
+really the remains of aeroplanes, which he did not believe, the statue
+had something to do with flying, as was shown by the fact that it had
+wings on its head and shoulders. Also, he added, after examining the
+face, the head was uncommonly like that of the idol that he had blown
+up. It had the same long nose and severe shut mouth. If he was right,
+this was probably another effigy of Oro which we should do well to
+destroy at once before the islanders came to worship it.
+
+Bickley ground his teeth as he listened to him.
+
+“Destroy that!” he gasped. “Destroy! Oh! you, you—early Christian.”
+
+Here I may state that Bastin was quite right, as we proved subsequently
+when we compared the head of the fetish, which, as it will be
+remembered, he had brought away with him, with that of the statue.
+Allowing for an enormous debasement of art, they were essentially
+identical in the facial characteristics. This would suggest the descent
+of a tradition through countless generations. Or of course it may have
+been accidental. I am sure I do not know, but I think it possible that
+for unknown centuries other old statues may have existed in Orofena
+from which the idol was copied. Or some daring and impious spirit may
+have found his way to the cave in past ages and fashioned the local god
+upon this ancient model.
+
+Bickley was struck at once, as I had been, with the resemblance of the
+figure to that of the Egyptian Osiris. Of course there were
+differences. For instance, instead of the crook and the scourge, this
+divinity held a torch. Again, in place of the crown of Egypt it wore a
+winged head-dress, though it is true this was not very far removed from
+the winged disc of that country. The wings that sprang from its
+shoulders, however, suggested Babylonia rather than Egypt, or the
+Assyrian bulls that are similarly adorned. All of these symbolical
+ideas might have been taken from that figure. But what was it? What was
+it?
+
+In a flash the answer came to me. A representation of the spirit of
+Death! Neither more nor less. There was the shroud; there the cold,
+inscrutable countenance suggesting mysteries that it hid. But the torch
+and the wings? Well, the torch was that which lighted souls to the
+other world, and on the wings they flew thither. Whoever fashioned that
+statue hoped for another life, or so I was convinced.
+
+I explained my ideas. Bastin thought them fanciful and preferred his
+notion of a flying man, since by constitution he was unable to discover
+anything spiritual in any religion except his own. Bickley agreed that
+it was probably an allegorical representation of death but sniffed at
+my interpretation of the wings and the torch, since by constitution he
+could not believe that the folly of a belief in immortality could have
+developed so early in the world, that is, among a highly civilised
+people such as must have produced this statue.
+
+What we could none of us understand was why this ominous image with its
+dead, cold face should have been placed in an aerodrome, nor in fact
+did we ever discover. Possibly it was there long before the cave was
+put to this use. At first the place may have been a temple and have so
+remained until circumstances forced the worshippers to change their
+habits, or even their Faith.
+
+We examined this wondrous work and the pedestal on which it stood as
+closely as we were able by the dim light of our candles. I was anxious
+to go further and see what lay beyond it; indeed we did walk a few
+paces, twenty perhaps, onward into the recesses of the cave.
+
+Then Bickley discovered something that looked like the mouth of a well
+down which he nearly tumbled, and Bastin began to complain that he was
+hot and very thirsty; also to point out that he wished for no more
+caves and idols at present.
+
+“Look here, Arbuthnot,” said Bickley, “these candles are burning low
+and we don’t want to use up more if we can prevent it, for we may need
+what we have got very badly later on. Now, according to my pocket
+compass the mouth of this cave points due east; probably at the
+beginning it was orientated to the rising sun for purposes of
+astronomical observation or of worship at certain periods of the year.
+From the position of the sun when we landed on the rock this morning I
+imagine that just now it rises almost exactly opposite to the mouth of
+the cave. If this is so, to-morrow at dawn, for a time at least, the
+light should penetrate as far as the statue, and perhaps further. What
+I suggest is that we should wait till then to explore.”
+
+I agreed with him, especially as I was feeling tired, being exhausted
+by wonder, and wanted time to think. So we turned back. As we did so I
+missed Tommy and inquired anxiously where he was, being afraid lest he
+might have tumbled down the well-like hole.
+
+“He’s all right,” said Bastin. “I saw him sniffing at the base of that
+statue. I expect there is a rat in there, or perhaps a snake.”
+
+Sure enough when we reached it there was Tommy with his black nose
+pressed against the lowest of the tiers that formed the base of the
+statue, and sniffing loudly. Also he was scratching in the dust as a
+dog does when he has winded a rabbit in a hole. So engrossed was he in
+this occupation that it was with difficulty that I coaxed him to leave
+the place.
+
+I did not think much of the incident at that time, but afterwards it
+came back to me, and I determined to investigate those stones at the
+first opportunity.
+
+Passing the wrecks of the machines, we emerged on to the causeway
+without accident. After we had rested and washed we set to work to draw
+our canoe with its precious burden of food right into the mouth of the
+cave, where we hid it as well as we could.
+
+This done we went for a walk round the base of the peak. This proved to
+be a great deal larger than we had imagined, over two miles in
+circumference indeed. All about it was a belt of fertile land, as I
+suppose deposited there by the waters of the great lake and resulting
+from the decay of vegetation. Much of this belt was covered with
+ancient forest ending in mud flats that appeared to have been thrown up
+recently, perhaps at the time of the tidal wave which bore us to
+Orofena. On the higher part of the belt were many of the extraordinary
+crater-like holes that I have mentioned as being prevalent on the main
+island; indeed the place had all the appearance of having been
+subjected to a terrific and continuous bombardment.
+
+When we had completed its circuit we set to work to climb the peak in
+order to explore the terraces of which I have spoken and the ruins
+which I had seen through my field-glasses. It was quite true; they were
+terraces cut with infinite labour out of the solid rock, and on them
+had once stood a city, now pounded into dust and fragments. We
+struggled over the broken blocks of stone to what we had taken for a
+temple, which stood near the lip of the crater, for without doubt this
+mound was an extinct volcano, or rather its crest. All we could make
+out when we arrived was that here had once stood some great building,
+for its courts could still be traced; also there lay about fragments of
+steps and pillars.
+
+Apparently the latter had once been carved, but the passage of
+innumerable ages had obliterated the work and we could not turn these
+great blocks over to discover if any remained beneath. It was as though
+the god Thor had broken up the edifice with his hammer, or Jove had
+shattered it with his thunderbolts; nothing else would account for that
+utter wreck, except, as Bickley remarked significantly, the scientific
+use of high explosives.
+
+Following the line of what seemed to have been a road, we came to the
+edge of the volcano and found, as we expected, the usual depression out
+of which fire and lava had once been cast, as from Hecla or Vesuvius.
+It was now a lake more than a quarter of a mile across. Indeed it had
+been thus in the ancient days when the buildings stood upon the
+terraces, for we saw the remains of steps leading down to the water.
+Perhaps it had served as the sacred lake of the temple.
+
+We gazed with wonderment and then, wearied out, scrambled back through
+the ruins, which, by the way, were of a different stone from the lava
+of the mountain, to the mouth of the great cave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+The Dwellers in the Tomb
+
+
+By now it was drawing towards sunset, so we made such preparations as
+we could for the night. One of these was to collect dry driftwood, of
+which an abundance lay upon the shore, to serve us for firing, though
+unfortunately we had nothing that we could cook for our meal.
+
+While we were thus engaged we saw a canoe approaching the table-rock
+and perceived that in it were the chief Marama and a priest. After
+hovering about for a while they paddled the canoe near enough to allow
+of conversation which, taking no notice of their presence, we left it
+to them to begin.
+
+“O, Friend-from-the-Sea,” called Marama, addressing myself, “we come to
+pray you and the Great Healer to return to us to be our guests as
+before. The people are covered with darkness because of the loss of
+your wisdom, and the sick cry aloud for the Healer; indeed two of those
+whom he has cut with knives are dying.”
+
+“And what of the Bellower?” I asked, indicating Bastin.
+
+“We should like to see him back also, Friend-from-the-Sea, that we may
+sacrifice and eat him, who destroyed our god with fire and caused the
+Healer to kill his priest.”
+
+“That is most unjust,” exclaimed Bastin. “I deeply regret the blood
+that was shed on the occasion, unnecessarily as I think.”
+
+“Then go and atone for it with your own,” said Bickley, “and everybody
+will be pleased.”
+
+Waving to them to be silent, I said:
+
+“Are you mad, Marama, that you should ask us to return to sojourn among
+people who tried to kill us, merely because the Bellower caused fire to
+burn an image of wood and its head to fly from its shoulders, just to
+show you that it had no power to hold itself together, although you
+call it a god? Not so, we wash our hands of you; we leave you to go
+your own way while we go ours, till perchance in a day to come, after
+many misfortunes have overtaken you, you creep about our feet and with
+prayers and offerings beg us to return.”
+
+I paused to observe the effect of my words. It was excellent, for both
+Marama and the priest wrung their hands and groaned. Then I went on:
+
+“Meanwhile we have something to tell you. We have entered the cave
+where you said no man might set a foot, and have seen him who sits
+within, the true god.” (Here Bastin tried to interrupt, but was
+suppressed by Bickley.)
+
+They looked at each other in a frightened way and groaned more loudly
+than before.
+
+“He sends you a message, which, as he told us of your approach, we came
+to the shore to deliver to you.”
+
+“How can you say that?” began Bastin, but was again violently
+suppressed by Bickley.
+
+“It is that he, the real Oro, rejoices that the false Oro, whose face
+is copied from his face, has been destroyed. It is that he commands you
+day by day to bring food in plenty and lay it upon the Rock of
+Offerings, not forgetting a supply of fresh fish from the sea, and with
+it all those things that are stored in the house wherein we, the
+strangers from the sea, deigned to dwell awhile until we left you
+because in your wickedness you wished to murder us.”
+
+“And if we refuse—what then?” asked the priest, speaking for the first
+time.
+
+“Then Oro will send death and destruction upon you. Then your food
+shall fail and you shall perish of sickness and want, and the
+Oromatuas, the spirits of the great dead, shall haunt you in your
+sleep, and Oro shall eat up your souls.”
+
+At these horrible threats both of them uttered a kind of wail, after
+which, Marama asked:
+
+“And if we consent, what then, Friend-from-the-Sea?”
+
+“Then, perchance,” I answered, “in some day to come we may return to
+you, that I may give you of my wisdom and the Great Healer may cure
+your sick and the Bellower may lead you through his gate, and in his
+kindness make you to see with his eyes.”
+
+This last clause of my ultimatum did not seem to appeal to the priest,
+who argued a while with Marama, though what he said we could not hear.
+In the end he appeared to give way. At any rate Marama called out that
+all should be done as we wished, and that meanwhile they prayed us to
+intercede with Oro in the cave, and to keep back the ghosts from
+haunting them, and to protect them from misfortune. I replied that we
+would do our best, but could guarantee nothing since their offence was
+very great.
+
+Then, to show that the conversation was at an end, we walked away with
+dignity, pushing Bastin in front of us, lest he should spoil the effect
+by some of his ill-timed and often over-true remarks.
+
+“That’s capital,” said Bickley, when we were out of hearing. “The enemy
+has capitulated. We can stop here as long as we like, provisioned from
+the mainland, and if for any reason we wish to leave, be sure of our
+line of retreat.”
+
+“I don’t know what you call capital,” exclaimed Bastin. “It seems to me
+that all the lies which Arbuthnot has just told are sufficient to bring
+a judgment upon us. Indeed, I think that I will go back with Marama and
+explain the truth.”
+
+“I never before knew anybody who was so anxious to be cooked and
+eaten,” remarked Bickley. “Moreover, you are too late, for the canoe is
+a hundred yards away by now, and you shan’t have ours. Remember the
+Pauline maxims, old fellow, which you are so fond of quoting, and be
+all things to all men, and another that is more modern, that when you
+are at Rome, you must do as the Romans do; also a third, that necessity
+has no law, and for the matter of that, a fourth, that all is fair in
+love and war.”
+
+“I am sure, Bickley, that Paul never meant his words to bear the
+debased sense which you attribute to them—” began Bastin, but at this
+point I hustled him off to light a fire—a process at which I pointed
+out he had shown himself an expert.
+
+We slept that night under the overhanging rock just to one side of the
+cave, not in the mouth, because of the draught which drew in and out of
+the great place. In that soft and balmy clime this was no hardship,
+although we lacked blankets. And yet, tired though I was, I could not
+rest as I should have done. Bastin snored away contentedly, quite
+unaffected by his escape which to him was merely an incident in the
+day’s work; and so, too, slumbered Bickley, except that he did not
+snore. But the amazement and the mystery of all that we had discovered
+and of all that might be left for us to discover, held me back from
+sleep.
+
+What did it mean? What could it mean? My nerves were taut as harp
+strings and seemed to vibrate to the touch of invisible fingers,
+although I could not interpret the music that they made. Once or twice
+also I thought I heard actual music with my physical ears, and that of
+a strange quality. Soft and low and dreamful, it appeared to well from
+the recesses of the vast cave, a wailing song in an unknown tongue from
+the lips of women, or of a woman, multiplied mysteriously by echoes.
+This, however, must have been pure fancy, since there was no singer
+there.
+
+Presently I dozed off, to be awakened by the sudden sound of a great
+fish leaping in the lake. I sat up and stared, fearing lest it might be
+the splash of a paddle, for I could not put from my mind the
+possibility of attack. All I saw, however, was the low line of the
+distant shore, and above it the bright and setting stars that heralded
+the coming of the sun. Then I woke the others, and we washed and ate,
+since once the sun rose time would be precious.
+
+At length it appeared, splendid in a cloudless sky, and, as I had
+hoped, directly opposite to the mouth of the cave. Taking our candles
+and some stout pieces of driftwood which, with our knives, we had
+shaped on the previous evening to serve us as levers and rough shovels,
+we entered the cave. Bickley and I were filled with excitement and hope
+of what we knew not, but Bastin showed little enthusiasm for our quest.
+His heart was with his half-converted savages beyond the lake, and of
+them, quite rightly I have no doubt, he thought more than he did of all
+the archaeological treasures in the whole earth. Still, he came,
+bearing the blackened head of Oro with him which, with unconscious
+humour, he had used as a pillow through the night because, as he said,
+“it was after all softer than stone.” Also, I believe that in his heart
+he hoped that he might find an opportunity of destroying the bigger and
+earlier edition of Oro in the cave, before it was discovered by the
+natives who might wish to make it an object of worship. Tommy came
+also, with greater alacrity than I expected, since dogs do not as a
+rule like dark places. When we reached the statue I learned the reason;
+he remembered the smell he had detected at its base on the previous
+day, which Bastin supposed to proceed from a rat, and was anxious to
+continue his investigations.
+
+We went straight to the statue, although Bickley passed the half-buried
+machines with evident regret. As we had hoped, the strong light of the
+rising sun fell upon it in a vivid ray, revealing all its wondrous
+workmanship and the majesty—for no other word describes it—of the
+somewhat terrifying countenance that appeared above the wrappings of
+the shroud. Indeed, I was convinced that originally this monument had
+been placed here in order that on certain days of the year the sun
+might fall upon it thus, when probably worshippers assembled to adore
+their hallowed symbol. After all, this was common in ancient days:
+witness the instance of the awful Three who sit in the deepest recesses
+of the temple of Abu Simbel, on the Nile.
+
+We gazed and gazed our fill, at least Bickley and I did, for Bastin was
+occupied in making a careful comparison between the head of his wooden
+Oro and that of the statue.
+
+“There is no doubt that they are very much alike,” he said. “Why,
+whatever is that dog doing? I think it is going mad,” and he pointed to
+Tommy who was digging furiously at the base of the lowest step, as at
+home I have seen him do at roots that sheltered a rabbit.
+
+Tommy’s energy was so remarkable that at length it seriously attracted
+our attention. Evidently he meant that it should do so, for
+occasionally he sprang back to me barking, then returned and sniffed
+and scratched. Bickley knelt down and smelt at the stone.
+
+“It is an odd thing, Humphrey,” he said, “but there is a strange odour
+here, a very pleasant odour like that of sandal-wood or attar of
+roses.”
+
+“I never heard of a rat that smelt like sandal-wood or attar of roses,”
+said Bastin. “Look out that it isn’t a snake.”
+
+I knelt down beside Bickley, and in clearing away the deep dust from
+what seemed to be the bottom of the step, which was perhaps four feet
+in height, by accident thrust my amateur spade somewhat strongly
+against its base where it rested upon the rocky floor.
+
+Next moment a wonder came to pass. The whole massive rock began to turn
+outwards as though upon a pivot! I saw it coming and grabbed Bickley by
+the collar, dragging him back so that we just rolled clear before the
+great block, which must have weighed several tons, fell down and
+crushed us. Tommy saw it too, and fled, though a little late, for the
+edge of the block caught the tip of his tail and caused him to emit a
+most piercing howl. But we did not think of Tommy and his woes; we did
+not think of our own escape or of anything else because of the marvel
+that appeared to us. Seated there upon the ground, after our backward
+tumble, we could see into the space which lay behind the fallen step,
+for there the light of the sun penetrated.
+
+The first idea it gave me was that of the jewelled shrine of some
+mediaeval saint which, by good fortune, had escaped the plunderers;
+there are still such existing in the world. It shone and glittered,
+apparently with gold and diamonds, although, as a matter of fact, there
+were no diamonds, nor was it gold which gleamed, but some ancient
+metal, or rather amalgam, which is now lost to the world, the same that
+was used in the tubes of the air-machines. I think that it contained
+gold, but I do not know. At any rate, it was equally lasting and even
+more beautiful, though lighter in colour.
+
+For the rest this adorned recess which resembled that of a large
+funeral vault, occupying the whole space beneath the base of the statue
+that was supported on its arch, was empty save for two flashing objects
+that lay side by side but with nearly the whole width of the vault
+between them.
+
+I pointed at them to Bickley with my finger, for really I could not
+speak.
+
+“Coffins, by Jove!” he whispered. “Glass or crystal coffins and people
+in them. Come on!”
+
+A few seconds later we were crawling into that vault while Bastin,
+still nursing the head of Oro as though it were a baby, stood confused
+outside muttering something about desecrating hallowed graves.
+
+Just as we reached the interior, owing to the heightening of the sun,
+the light passed away, leaving us in a kind of twilight. Bickley
+produced carriage candles from his pocket and fumbled for matches.
+While he was doing so I noticed two things—firstly, that the place
+really did smell like a scent-shop, and, secondly, that the coffins
+seemed to glow with a kind of phosphorescent light of their own, not
+very strong, but sufficient to reveal their outlines in the gloom. Then
+the candles burnt up and we saw.
+
+Within the coffin that stood on our left hand as we entered, for this
+crystal was as transparent as plate glass, lay a most wonderful old
+man, clad in a gleaming, embroidered robe. His long hair, which was
+parted in the middle, as we could see beneath the edge of the
+pearl-sewn and broidered cap he wore, also his beard were snowy white.
+The man was tall, at least six feet four inches in height, and rather
+spare. His hands were long and thin, very delicately made, as were his
+sandalled feet.
+
+But it was his face that fixed our gaze, for it was marvelous, like the
+face of a god, and, as we noticed at once, with some resemblance to
+that of the statue above. Thus the brow was broad and massive, the nose
+straight and long, the mouth stern and clear-cut, while the cheekbones
+were rather high, and the eyebrows arched. Such are the characteristics
+of many handsome old men of good blood, and as the mummies of Seti and
+others show us, such they have been for thousands of years. Only this
+man differed from all others because of the fearful dignity stamped
+upon his features. Looking at him I began to think at once of the
+prophet Elijah as he must have appeared rising to heaven, enhanced by
+the more earthly glory of Solomon, for although the appearance of these
+patriarchs is unknown, of them one conceives ideas. Only it seemed
+probable that Elijah may have looked more benign. Here there was no
+benignity, only terrible force and infinite wisdom.
+
+Contemplating him I shivered a little and felt thankful that he was
+dead. For to tell the truth I was afraid of that awesome countenance
+which, I should add, was of the whiteness of paper, although the cheeks
+still showed tinges of colour, so perfect was the preservation of the
+corpse.
+
+I was still gazing at it when Bickley said in a voice of amazement:
+
+“I say, look here, in the other coffin.”
+
+I turned, looked, and nearly collapsed on the floor of the vault, since
+beauty can sometimes strike us like a blow. Oh! there before me lay all
+loveliness, such loveliness that there burst from my lips an
+involuntary cry:
+
+“Alas! that she should be dead!”
+
+A young woman, I supposed, at least she looked young, perhaps five or
+six and twenty years of age, or so I judged. There she lay, her tall
+and delicate shape half hidden in masses of rich-hued hair in colour of
+a ruddy blackness. I know not how else to describe it, since never have
+I seen any of the same tint. Moreover, it shone with a life of its own
+as though it had been dusted with gold. From between the masses of this
+hair appeared a face which I can only call divine. There was every
+beauty that woman can boast, from the curving eyelashes of
+extraordinary length to the sweet and human mouth. To these charms also
+were added a wondrous smile and an air of kind dignity, very different
+from the fierce pride stamped upon the countenance of the old man who
+was her companion in death.
+
+She was clothed in some close-fitting robe of white broidered with
+gold; pearls were about her neck, lying far down upon the perfect
+bosom, a girdle of gold and shining gems encircled her slender waist,
+and on her little feet were sandals fastened with red stones like
+rubies. In truth, she was a splendid creature, and yet, I know not how,
+her beauty suggested more of the spirit than of the flesh. Indeed, in a
+way, it was unearthly. My senses were smitten, it pulled at my
+heart-strings, and yet its unutterable strangeness seemed to awake
+memories within me, though of what I could not tell. A wild fancy came
+to me that I must have known this heavenly creature in some past life.
+
+By now Bastin had joined us, and, attracted by my exclamation and by
+the attitude of Bickley, who was staring down at the coffin with a
+fixed look upon his face, not unlike that of a pointer when he scents
+game, he began to contemplate the wonder within it in his slow way.
+
+“Well, I never!” he said. “Do you think the Glittering Lady in there is
+human?”
+
+“The Glittering Lady is dead, but I suppose that she was human in her
+life,” I answered in an awed whisper.
+
+“Of course she is dead, otherwise she would not be in that glass
+coffin. I think I should like to read the Burial Service over her,
+which I daresay was never done when she was put in there.”
+
+“How do you know she is dead?” asked Bickley in a sharp voice and
+speaking for the first time. “I have seen hundreds of corpses, and
+mummies too, but never any that looked like these.”
+
+I stared at him. It was strange to hear Bickley, the scoffer at
+miracles, suggesting that this greatest of all miracles might be
+possible.
+
+“They must have been here a long time,” I said, “for although human,
+they are not, I think, of any people known to the world to-day; their
+dress, everything, shows it, though perhaps thousands of years ago—”
+and I stopped.
+
+“Quite so,” answered Bickley; “I agree. That is why I suggest that they
+may have belonged to a race who knew what we do not, namely, how to
+suspend animation for great periods of time.”
+
+I said no more, nor did Bastin, who was now engaged in studying the old
+man, and for once, wonderstruck and overcome. Bickley, however, took
+one of the candles and began to make a close examination of the
+coffins. So did Tommy, who sniffed along the join of that of the
+Glittering Lady until his nose reached a certain spot, where it
+remained, while his black tail began to wag in a delighted fashion.
+Bickley pushed him away and investigated.
+
+“As I thought,” he said—“air-holes. See!”
+
+I looked, and there, bored through the crystal of the coffin in a line
+with the face of its occupant, were a number of little holes that
+either by accident or design outlined the shape of a human mouth.
+
+“They are not airtight,” murmured Bickley; “and if air can enter, how
+can dead flesh remain like that for ages?”
+
+Then he continued his search upon the other side.
+
+“The lid of this coffin works on hinges,” he said. “Here they are,
+fashioned of the crystal itself. A living person within could have
+pulled it down before the senses departed.”
+
+“No,” I answered; “for look, here is a crystal bolt at the end and it
+is shot from without.”
+
+This puzzled him; then as though struck by an idea, he began to examine
+the other coffin.
+
+“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed presently. “The old god in here” (somehow
+we all thought of this old man as not quite normal) “shut down the
+Glittering Lady’s coffin and bolted it. His own is not bolted, although
+the bolt exists in the same place. He just got in and pulled down the
+lid. Oh! what nonsense I am talking—for how can such things be? Let us
+get out and think.”
+
+So we crept from the sepulchre in which the perfumed air had begun to
+oppress us and sat ourselves down upon the floor of the cave, where for
+a while we remained silent.
+
+“I am very thirsty,” said Bastin presently. “Those smells seem to have
+dried me up. I am going to get some tea—I mean water, as unfortunately
+there is no tea,” and he set off towards the mouth of the cave.
+
+We followed him, I don’t quite know why, except that we wished to
+breathe freely outside, also we knew that the sepulchre and its
+contents would be as safe as they had been for—well, how long?
+
+It proved to be a beautiful morning outside. We walked up and down
+enjoying it sub-consciously, for really our—that is Bickley’s and my
+own—intelligences were concentrated on that sepulchre and its contents.
+Where Bastin’s may have been I do not know, perhaps in a visionary
+teapot, since I was sure that it would take him a day or two to
+appreciate the significance of our discoveries. At any rate, he
+wandered off, making no remarks about them, to drink water, I suppose.
+
+Presently he began to shout to us from the end of the table-rock and we
+went to see the reason of his noise. It proved to be very satisfactory,
+for while we were in the cave the Orofenans had brought absolutely
+everything belonging to us, together with a large supply of food from
+the main island. Not a single article was missing; even our books, a
+can with the bottom out, and the broken pieces of a little pocket
+mirror had been religiously transported, and with these a few articles
+that had been stolen from us, notably my pocket-knife. Evidently a
+great taboo had been laid upon all our possessions. They were now
+carefully arranged in one of the grooves of the rock that Bickley
+supposed had been made by the wheels of aeroplanes, which was why we
+had not seen them at once.
+
+Each of us rushed for what we desired most—Bastin for one of the
+canisters of tea, I for my diaries, and Bickley for his chest of
+instruments and medicines. These were removed to the mouth of the cave,
+and after them the other things and the food; also a bell tent and some
+camp furniture that we had brought from the ship. Then Bastin made some
+tea of which he drank four large pannikins, having first said grace
+over it with unwonted fervour. Nor did we disdain our share of the
+beverage, although Bickley preferred cocoa and I coffee. Cocoa and
+coffee we had no time to make then, and in view of that sepulchre in
+the cave, what had we to do with cocoa and coffee?
+
+So Bickley and I said to each other, and yet presently he changed his
+mind and in a special metal machine carefully made some extremely
+strong black coffee which he poured into a thermos flask, previously
+warmed with hot water, adding thereto about a claret glass of brandy.
+Also he extracted certain drugs from his medicine-chest, and with them,
+as I noted, a hypodermic syringe, which he first boiled in a kettle and
+then shut up in a little tube with a glass stopper.
+
+These preparations finished, he called to Tommy to give him the scraps
+of our meal. But there was no Tommy. The dog was missing, and though we
+hunted everywhere we could not find him. Finally we concluded that he
+had wandered off down the beach on business of his own and would return
+in due course. We could not bother about Tommy just then.
+
+After making some further preparations and fidgeting about a little,
+Bickley announced that as we had now some proper paraffin lamps of the
+powerful sort which are known as “hurricane,” he proposed by their aid
+to carry out further examinations in the cave.
+
+“I think I shall stop where I am,” said Bastin, helping himself from
+the kettle to a fifth pannikin of tea. “Those corpses are very
+interesting, but I don’t see any use in staring at them again at
+present. One can always do that at any time. I have missed Marama once
+already by being away in that cave, and I have a lot to say to him
+about my people; I don’t want to be absent in case he should return.”
+
+“To wash up the things, I suppose,” said Bickley with a sniff; “or
+perhaps to eat the tea-leaves.”
+
+“Well, as a matter of fact, I have noticed that these natives have a
+peculiar taste for tea-leaves. I think they believe them to be a
+medicine, but I don’t suppose they would come so far for them, though
+perhaps they might in the hope of getting the head of Oro. Anyhow, I am
+going to stop here.”
+
+“Pray do,” said Bickley. “Are you ready, Humphrey?”
+
+I nodded, and he handed to me a felt-covered flask of the
+non-conducting kind, filled with boiling water, a tin of preserved
+milk, and a little bottle of meat extract of a most concentrated sort.
+Then, having lit two of the hurricane lamps and seen that they were
+full of oil, we started back up the cave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+Resurrection
+
+
+We reached the sepulchre without stopping to look at the parked
+machines or even the marvelous statue that stood above it, for what did
+we care about machines or statues now? As we approached we were
+astonished to hear low and cavernous growlings.
+
+“There is some wild beast in there,” said Bickley, halting. “No, by
+George! it’s Tommy. What can the dog be after?”
+
+We peeped in, and there sure enough was Tommy lying on the top of the
+Glittering Lady’s coffin and growling his very best with the hair
+standing up upon his back. When he saw who it was, however, he jumped
+off and frisked round, licking my hand.
+
+“That’s very strange,” I exclaimed.
+
+“Not stranger than everything else,” said Bickley.
+
+“What are you going to do?” I asked.
+
+“Open these coffins,” he answered, “beginning with that of the old god,
+since I would rather experiment on him. I expect he will crumble into
+dust. But if by chance he doesn’t I’ll jam a little strychnine, mixed
+with some other drugs, of which you don’t know the names, into one of
+his veins and see if anything happens. If it doesn’t, it won’t hurt
+him, and if it does—well, who knows? Now give me a hand.”
+
+We went to the left-hand coffin and by inserting the hook on the back
+of my knife, of which the real use is to pick stones out of horses’
+hoofs, into one of the little air-holes I have described, managed to
+raise the heavy crystal lid sufficiently to enable us to force a piece
+of wood between it and the top. The rest was easy, for the hinges being
+of crystal had not corroded. In two minutes it was open.
+
+From the chest came an overpowering spicy odour, and with it a
+veritable breath of warm air before which we recoiled a little. Bickley
+took a pocket thermometer which he had at hand and glanced at it. It
+marked a temperature of 82 degrees in the sepulchre. Having noted this,
+he thrust it into the coffin between the crystal wall and its occupant.
+Then we went out and waited a little while to give the odours time to
+dissipate, for they made the head reel.
+
+After five minutes or so we returned and examined the thermometer. It
+had risen to 98 degrees, the natural temperature of the human body.
+
+“What do you make of that if the man is dead?” he whispered.
+
+I shook my head, and as we had agreed, set to helping him to lift the
+body from the coffin. It was a good weight, quite eleven stone I should
+say; moreover, _it was not stiff_, for the hip joints bent. We got it
+out and laid it on a blanket we had spread on the floor of the
+sepulchre. Whilst I was thus engaged I saw something that nearly caused
+me to loose my hold from astonishment. Beneath the head, the centre of
+the back and the feet were crystal boxes about eight inches square, or
+rather crystal blocks, for in them I could see no opening, and these
+boxes emitted a faint phosphorescent light. I touched one of them and
+found that it was quite warm.
+
+“Great heavens!” I exclaimed, “here’s magic.”
+
+“There’s no such thing,” answered Bickley in his usual formula. Then an
+explanation seemed to strike him and he added, “Not magic but radium or
+something of the sort. That’s how the temperature was kept up. In
+sufficient quantity it is practically indestructible, you see. My word!
+this old gentleman knew a thing or two.”
+
+Again we waited a little while to see if the body begun to crumble on
+exposure to the air, I taking the opportunity to make a rough sketch of
+it in my pocket-book in anticipation of that event. But it did not; it
+remained quite sound.
+
+“Here goes,” said Bickley. “If he should be alive, he will catch cold
+in his lungs after lying for ages in that baby incubator, as I suppose
+he has done. So it is now or never.”
+
+Then bidding me hold the man’s right arm, he took the sterilized
+syringe which he had prepared, and thrusting the needle into a vein he
+selected just above the wrist, injected the contents.
+
+“It would have been better over the heart,” he whispered, “but I
+thought I would try the arm first. I don’t like risking chills by
+uncovering him.”
+
+I made no answer and again we waited and watched.
+
+“Great heavens, he’s stirring!” I gasped presently.
+
+Stirring he was, for his fingers began to move.
+
+Bickley bent down and placed his ear to the heart—I forgot to say that
+he had tested this before with a stethoscope, but had been unable to
+detect any movement.
+
+“I believe it is beginning to beat,” he said in an awed voice.
+
+Then he applied the stethoscope, and added, “It is, it is!”
+
+Next he took a filament of cotton wool and laid it on the man’s lips.
+Presently it moved; he was breathing, though very faintly. Bickley took
+more cotton wool and having poured something from his medicine-chest on
+to it, placed it over the mouth beneath the man’s nostrils—I believe it
+was sal volatile.
+
+Nothing further happened for a little while, and to relieve the strain
+on my mind I stared absently into the empty coffin. Here I saw what had
+escaped our notice, two small plates of white metal and cut upon them
+what I took to be star maps. Beyond these and the glowing boxes which I
+have mentioned, there was nothing else in the coffin. I had no time to
+examine them, for at that moment the old man opened his mouth and began
+to breathe, evidently with some discomfort and effort, as his empty
+lungs filled themselves with air. Then his eyelids lifted, revealing a
+wonderful pair of dark glowing eyes beneath. Next he tried to sit up
+but would have fallen, had not Bickley supported him with his arm.
+
+I do not think he saw Bickley, indeed he shut his eyes again as though
+the light hurt them, and went into a kind of faint. Then it was that
+Tommy, who all this while had been watching the proceedings with grave
+interest, came forward, wagging his tail, and licked the man’s face. At
+the touch of the dog’s red tongue, he opened his eyes for the second
+time. Now he saw—not us but Tommy, for after contemplating him for a
+few seconds, something like a smile appeared upon his fierce but noble
+face. More, he lifted his hand and laid it on the dog’s head, as though
+to pat it kindly. Half a minute or so later his awakening senses
+appreciated our presence. The incipient smile vanished and was replaced
+by a somewhat terrible frown.
+
+Meanwhile Bickley had poured out some of the hot coffee laced with
+brandy into the cup that was screwed on the top of the thermos flask.
+Advancing to the man whom I supported, he put it to his lips. He tasted
+and made a wry face, but presently he began to sip, and ultimately
+swallowed it all. The effect of the stimulant was wonderful, for in a
+few minutes he came to life completely and was even able to sit up
+without support.
+
+For quite a long while he gazed at us gravely, taking us in and
+everything connected with us. For instance, Bickley’s medicine-case
+which lay open showing the little vulcanite tubes, a few instruments
+and other outfit, engaged his particular attention, and I saw at once
+that he understood what it was. Thus his arm still smarted where the
+needle had been driven in and on the blanket lay the syringe. He looked
+at his arm, then looked at the syringe, and nodded. The paraffin
+hurricane lamps also seemed to interest and win his approval. We two
+men, as I thought, attracted him least of all; he just summed us up and
+our garments, more especially the garments, with a few shrewd glances,
+and then seemed to turn his thoughts to Tommy, who had seated himself
+quite contentedly at his side, evidently accepting him as a new
+addition to our party.
+
+I confess that this behaviour on Tommy’s part reassured me not a
+little. I am a great believer in the instincts of animals, especially
+of dogs, and I felt certain that if this man had not been in all
+essentials human like ourselves, Tommy would not have tolerated him. In
+the same way the sleeper’s clear liking for Tommy, at whom he looked
+much oftener and with greater kindness than he did at us, suggested
+that there was goodness in him somewhere, since although a dog in its
+wonderful tolerance may love a bad person in whom it smells out hidden
+virtue, no really bad person ever loved a dog, or, I may add, a child
+or a flower.
+
+As a matter of fact, the “old god,” as we had christened him while he
+was in his coffin, during all our association with him, cared
+infinitely more for Tommy than he did for any of us, a circumstance
+that ultimately was not without its influence upon our fortunes. But
+for this there was a reason as we learned afterwards, also he was not
+really so amiable as I hoped.
+
+When we had looked at each other for a long while the sleeper began to
+arrange his beard, of which the length seemed to surprise him,
+especially as Tommy was seated on one end of it. Finding this out and
+apparently not wishing to disturb Tommy, he gave up the occupation, and
+after one or two attempts, for his tongue and lips still seemed to be
+stiff, addressed us in some sonorous and musical language, unlike any
+that we had ever heard. We shook our heads. Then by an afterthought I
+said “Good day” to him in the language of the Orofenans. He puzzled
+over the word as though it were more or less familiar to him, and when
+I repeated it, gave it back to me with a difference indeed, but in a
+way which convinced us that he quite understood what I meant. The
+conversation went no further at the moment because just then some
+memory seemed to strike him.
+
+He was sitting with his back against the coffin of the Glittering Lady,
+whom therefore he had not seen. Now he began to turn round, and being
+too weak to do so, motioned me to help him. I obeyed, while Bickley,
+guessing his purpose, held up one of the hurricane lamps that he might
+see better. With a kind of fierce eagerness he surveyed her who lay
+within the coffin, and after he had done so, uttered a sigh as of
+intense relief.
+
+Next he pointed to the metal cup out of which he had drunk. Bickley
+filled it again from the thermos flask, which I observed excited his
+keen interest, for, having touched the flask with his hand and found
+that it was cool, he appeared to marvel that the fluid coming from it
+should be hot and steaming. Presently he smiled as though he had got
+the clue to the mystery, and swallowed his second drink of coffee and
+spirit. This done, he motioned to us to lift the lid of the lady’s
+coffin, pointing out a certain catch in the bolts which at first we
+could not master, for it will be remembered that on this coffin these
+were shot.
+
+In the end, by pursuing the same methods that we had used in the
+instance of his own, we raised the coffin lid and once more were driven
+to retreat from the sepulchre for a while by the overpowering odour
+like to that of a whole greenhouse full of tuberoses, that flowed out
+of it, inducing a kind of stupefaction from which even Tommy fled.
+
+When we returned it was to find the man kneeling by the side of the
+coffin, for as yet he could not stand, with his glowing eyes fixed upon
+the face of her who slept therein and waving his long arms above her.
+
+“Hypnotic business! Wonder if it will work,” whispered Bickley. Then he
+lifted the syringe and looked inquiringly at the man, who shook his
+head, and went on with his mesmeric passes.
+
+I crept round him and took my stand by the sleeper’s head, that I might
+watch her face, which was well worth watching, while Bickley, with his
+medicine at hand, remained near her feet, I think engaged in
+disinfecting the syringe in some spirit or acid. I believe he was about
+to make an attempt to use it when suddenly, as though beneath the
+influence of the hypnotic passes, a change appeared on the Glittering
+Lady’s face. Hitherto, beautiful as it was, it had been a dead face
+though one of a person who had suddenly been cut off while in full
+health and vigour a few hours, or at the most a day or so before. Now
+it began to live again; it was as though the spirit were returning from
+afar, and not without toil and tribulation.
+
+Expression after expression flitted across the features; indeed these
+seemed to change so much from moment to moment that they might have
+belonged to several different individuals, though each was beautiful.
+The fact of these remarkable changes with the suggestion of multiform
+personalities which they conveyed impressed both Bickley and myself
+very much indeed. Then the breast heaved tumultuously; it even appeared
+to struggle. Next the eyes opened. They were full of wonder, even of
+fear, but oh! what marvelous eyes. I do not know how to describe them,
+I cannot even state their exact colour, except that it was dark,
+something like the blue of sapphires of the deepest tint, and yet not
+black; large, too, and soft as a deer’s. They shut again as though the
+light hurt them, then once more opened and wandered about, apparently
+without seeing.
+
+At length they found my face, for I was still bending over her, and,
+resting there, appeared to take it in by degrees. More, it seemed to
+touch and stir some human spring in the still-sleeping heart. At least
+the fear passed from her features and was replaced by a faint smile,
+such as a patient sometimes gives to one known and well loved, as the
+effects of chloroform pass away. For a while she looked at me with an
+earnest, searching gaze, then suddenly, for the first time moving her
+arms, lifted them and threw them round my neck.
+
+The old man stared, bending his imperial brows into a little frown, but
+did nothing. Bickley stared also through his glasses and sniffed as
+though in disapproval, while I remained quite still, fighting with a
+wild impulse to kiss her on the lips as one would an awakening and
+beloved child. I doubt if I could have done so, however, for really I
+was immovable; my heart seemed to stop and all my muscles to be
+paralysed.
+
+I do not know for how long this endured, but I do know how it ended.
+Presently in the intense silence I heard Bastin’s heavy voice and
+looking round, saw his big head projecting into the sepulchre.
+
+“Well, I never!” he said, “you seem to have woke them up with a
+vengeance. If you begin like _that_ with the lady, there will be
+complications before you have done, Arbuthnot.”
+
+Talk of being brought back to earth with a rush! I could have killed
+Bastin, and Bickley, turning on him like a tiger, told him to be off,
+find wood and light a large fire in front of the statue. I think he was
+about to argue when the Ancient gave him a glance of his fierce eyes,
+which alarmed him, and he departed, bewildered, to return presently
+with the wood.
+
+But the sound of his voice had broken the spell. The Lady let her arms
+fall with a start, and shut her eyes again, seeming to faint. Bickley
+sprang forward with his sal volatile and applied it to her nostrils,
+the Ancient not interfering, for he seemed to recognise that he had to
+deal with a man of skill and one who meant well by them.
+
+In the end we brought her round again and, to omit details, Bickley
+gave her, not coffee and brandy, but a mixture he compounded of hot
+water, preserved milk and meat essence. The effect of it on her was
+wonderful, since a few minutes after swallowing it she sat up in the
+coffin. Then we lifted her from that narrow bed in which she had slept
+for—ah! how long? and perceived that beneath her also were crystal
+boxes of the radiant, heat-giving substance. We sat her on the floor of
+the sepulchre, wrapping her also in a blanket.
+
+Now it was that Tommy, after frisking round her as though in welcome of
+an old friend, calmly established himself beside her and laid his black
+head upon her knee. She noted it and smiled for the first time, a
+marvelously sweet and gentle smile. More, she placed her slender hand
+upon the dog and stroked him feebly.
+
+Bickley tried to make her drink some more of his mixture, but she
+refused, motioning him to give it to Tommy. This, however, he would not
+do because there was but one cup. Presently both of the sleepers began
+to shiver, which caused Bickley anxiety. Abusing Bastin beneath his
+breath for being so long with the fire, he drew the blankets closer
+about them.
+
+Then an idea came to him and he examined the glowing boxes in the
+coffin. They were loose, being merely set in prepared cavities in the
+crystal. Wrapping our handkerchiefs about his hand, he took them out
+and placed them around the wakened patients, a proceeding of which the
+Ancient nodded approval. Just then, too, Bastin returned with his first
+load of firewood, and soon we had a merry blaze going just outside the
+sepulchre. I saw that they observed the lighting of this fire by means
+of a match with much interest.
+
+Now they grew warm again, as indeed we did also—too warm. Then in my
+turn I had an idea. I knew that by now the sun would be beating hotly
+against the rock of the mount, and suggested to Bickley, that, if
+possible, the best thing we could do would be to get them into its
+life-giving rays. He agreed, if we could make them understand and they
+were able to walk. So I tried. First I directed the Ancient’s attention
+to the mouth of the cave which at this distance showed as a white
+circle of light. He looked at it and then at me with grave inquiry. I
+made motions to suggest that he should proceed there, repeating the
+word “Sun” in the Orofenan tongue. He understood at once, though
+whether he read my mind rather than what I said I am not sure.
+Apparently the Glittering Lady understood also and seemed to be most
+anxious to go. Only she looked rather pitifully at her feet and shook
+her head. This decided me.
+
+I do not know if I have mentioned anywhere that I am a tall man and
+very muscular. She was tall, also, but as I judged not so very heavy
+after her long fast. At any rate I felt quite certain that I could
+carry her for that distance. Stooping down, I lifted her up, signing to
+her to put her arms round my neck, which she did. Then calling to
+Bickley and Bastin to bring along the Ancient between them, with some
+difficulty I struggled out of the sepulchre, and started down the cave.
+She was more heavy than I thought, and yet I could have wished the
+journey longer. To begin with she seemed quite trustful and happy in my
+arms, where she lay with her head against my shoulder, smiling a little
+as a child might do, especially when I had to stop and throw her long
+hair round my neck like a muffler, to prevent it from trailing in the
+dust.
+
+A bundle of lavender, or a truss of new-mown hay, could not have been
+more sweet to carry and there was something electric about the touch of
+her, which went through and through me. Very soon it was over, and we
+were out of the cave into the full glory of the tropical sun. At first,
+that her eyes might become accustomed to its light and her awakened
+body to its heat, I set her down where shadow fell from the overhanging
+rock, in a canvas deck chair that had been brought by Marama with the
+other things, throwing the rug about her to protect her from such wind
+as there was. She nestled gratefully into the soft seat and shut her
+eyes, for the motion had tired her. I noted, however, that she drew in
+the sweet air with long breaths.
+
+Then I turned to observe the arrival of the Ancient, who was being
+borne between Bickley and Bastin in what children know as a
+dandy-chair, which is formed by two people crossing their hands in a
+peculiar fashion. It says much for the tremendous dignity of his
+presence that even thus, with one arm round the neck of Bickley and the
+other round that of Bastin, and his long white beard falling almost to
+the ground, he still looked most imposing.
+
+Unfortunately, however, just as they were emerging from the cave,
+Bastin, always the most awkward of creatures, managed to leave hold
+with one hand, so that his passenger nearly came to the ground. Never
+shall I forget the look that he gave him. Indeed, I think that from
+this moment he hated Bastin. Bickley he respected as a man of
+intelligence and learning, although in comparison with his own, the
+latter was infantile and crude; me he tolerated and even liked; but
+Bastin he detested. The only one of our party for whom he felt anything
+approaching real affection was the spaniel Tommy.
+
+We set him down, fortunately uninjured, on some rugs, and also in the
+shadow. Then, after a little while, we moved both of them into the sun.
+It was quite curious to see them expand there. As Bickley said, what
+happened to them might well be compared to the development of a
+butterfly which has just broken from the living grave of its chrysalis
+and crept into the full, hot radiance of the light. Its crinkled wings
+unfold, their brilliant tints develop; in an hour or two it is perfect,
+glorious, prepared for life and flight, a new creature.
+
+So it was with this pair, from moment to moment they gathered strength
+and vigour. Near-by to them, as it happened, stood a large basket of
+the luscious native fruits brought that morning by the Orofenans, and
+at these the Lady looked with longing. With Bickley’s permission, I
+offered them to her and to the Ancient, first peeling them with my
+fingers. They ate of them greedily, a full meal, and would have gone on
+had not the stern Bickley, fearing untoward consequences, removed the
+basket. Again the results were wonderful, for half an hour afterwards
+they seemed to be quite strong. With my assistance the Glittering Lady,
+as I still call her, for at that time I did not know her name, rose
+from the chair, and, leaning on me, tottered a few steps forward. Then
+she stood looking at the sky and all the lovely panorama of nature
+beneath, and stretching out her arms as though in worship. Oh! how
+beautiful she seemed with the sunlight shining on her heavenly face!
+
+Now for the first time I heard her voice. It was soft and deep, yet in
+it was a curious bell-like tone that seemed to vibrate like the sound
+of chimes heard from far away. Never have I listened to such another
+voice. She pointed to the sun whereof the light turned her radiant hair
+and garments to a kind of golden glory, and called it by some name that
+I could not understand. I shook my head, whereon she gave it a
+different name taken, I suppose, from another language. Again I shook
+my head and she tried a third time. To my delight this word was
+practically the same that the Orofenans used for “sun.”
+
+“Yes,” I said, speaking very slowly, “so it is called by the people of
+this land.”
+
+She understood, for she answered in much the same language:
+
+“What, then, do you call it?”
+
+“Sun in the English tongue,” I replied.
+
+“Sun. English,” she repeated after me, then added, “How are you named,
+Wanderer?”
+
+“Humphrey,” I answered.
+
+“Hum-fe-ry!” she said as though she were learning the word, “and
+those?”
+
+“Bastin and Bickley,” I replied.
+
+Over these patronymics she shook her head; as yet they were too much
+for her.
+
+“How are you named, Sleeper?” I asked.
+
+“Yva,” she answered.
+
+“A beautiful name for one who is beautiful,” I declared with
+enthusiasm, of course always in the rich Orofenan dialect which by now
+I could talk well enough.
+
+She repeated the words once or twice, then of a sudden caught their
+meaning, for she smiled and even coloured, saying hastily with a wave
+of her hand towards the Ancient who stood at a distance between Bastin
+and Bickley, “My father, Oro; great man; great king; great god!”
+
+At this information I started, for it was startling to learn that here
+was the original Oro, who was still worshipped by the Orofenans,
+although of his actual existence they had known nothing for uncounted
+time. Also I was glad to learn that he was her father and not her old
+husband, for to me that would have been horrible, a desecration too
+deep for words.
+
+“How long did you sleep, Yva?” I asked, pointing towards the sepulchre
+in the cave.
+
+After a little thought she understood and shook her head hopelessly,
+then by an afterthought, she said,
+
+“Stars tell Oro to-night.”
+
+So Oro was an astronomer as well as a king and a god. I had guessed as
+much from those plates in the coffin which seemed to have stars
+engraved on them.
+
+At this point our conversation came to an end, for the Ancient himself
+approached, leaning on the arm of Bickley who was engaged in an
+animated argument with Bastin.
+
+“For Heaven’s sake!” said Bickley, “keep your theology to yourself at
+present. If you upset the old fellow and put him in a temper he may
+die.”
+
+“If a man tells me that he is a god it is my duty to tell him that he
+is a liar,” replied Bastin obstinately.
+
+“Which you did, Bastin, only fortunately he did not understand you. But
+for your own sake I advise you not to take liberties. He is not one, I
+think, with whom it is wise to trifle. I think he seems thirsty. Go and
+get some water from the rain pool, not from the lake.”
+
+Bastin departed and presently returned with an aluminum jug full of
+pure water and a glass. Bickley poured some of it into a glass and
+handed it to Yva who bent her head in thanks. Then she did a curious
+thing. Having first lifted the glass with both hands to the sky and
+held it so for a few seconds, she turned and with an obeisance poured a
+little of it on the ground before her father’s feet.
+
+A libation, thought I to myself, and evidently Bastin agreed with me,
+for I heard him mutter,
+
+“I believe she is making a heathen offering.”
+
+Doubtless we were right, for Oro accepted the homage by a little motion
+of the head. After this, at a sign from him she drank the water. Then
+the glass was refilled and handed to Oro who also held it towards the
+sky. He, however, made no libation but drank at once, two tumblers of
+it in rapid succession.
+
+By now the direct sunlight was passing from the mouth of the cave, and
+though it was hot enough, both of them shivered a little. They spoke
+together in some language of which we could not understand a word, as
+though they were debating what their course of action should be. The
+dispute was long and earnest. Had we known what was passing, which I
+learned afterwards, it would have made us sufficiently anxious, for the
+point at issue was nothing less than whether we should or should not be
+forthwith destroyed—an end, it appears, that Oro was quite capable of
+bringing about if he so pleased. Yva, however, had very clear views of
+her own on the matter and, as I gather, even dared to threaten that she
+would protect us by the use of certain powers at her command, though
+what these were I do not know.
+
+While the event hung doubtful Tommy, who was growing bored with these
+long proceedings, picked up a bough still covered with flowers which,
+after their pretty fashion, the Orofenans had placed on the top of one
+of the baskets of food. This small bough he brought and laid at the
+feet of Oro, no doubt in the hope that he would throw it for him to
+fetch, a game in which the dog delighted. For some reason Oro saw an
+omen in this simple canine performance, or he may have thought that the
+dog was making an offering to him, for he put his thin hand to his brow
+and thought a while, then motioned to Bastin to pick up the bough and
+give it to him.
+
+Next he spoke to his daughter as though assenting to something, for I
+saw her sigh in relief. No wonder, for he was conveying his decision to
+spare our lives and admit us to their fellowship.
+
+After this again they talked, but in quite a different tone and manner.
+Then the Glittering Lady said to me in her slow and archaic Orofenan:
+
+“We go to rest. You must not follow. We come back perhaps tonight,
+perhaps next night. We are quite safe. You are quite safe under the
+beard of Oro. Spirit of Oro watch you. You understand?”
+
+I said I understood, whereon she answered:
+
+“Good-bye, O Humfe-ry.”
+
+“Good-bye, O Yva,” I replied, bowing.
+
+Thereon they turned and refusing all assistance from us, vanished into
+the darkness of the cave leaning upon each other and walking slowly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand Years!
+
+
+“You seem to have made the best of your time, old fellow,” said Bickley
+in rather a sour voice.
+
+“I never knew people begin to call each other by their Christian names
+so soon,” added Bastin, looking at me with a suspicious eye.
+
+“I know no other,” I said.
+
+“Perhaps not, but at any rate _you_ have another, though you don’t seem
+to have told it to her. Anyway, I am glad they are gone, for I was
+getting tired of being ordered by everybody to carry about wood and
+water for them. Also I am terribly hungry as I can’t eat before it is
+light. They have taken most of the best fruit to which I was looking
+forward, but thank goodness they do not seem to care for pork.”
+
+“So am I,” said Bickley, who really looked exhausted. “Get the food,
+there’s a good fellow. We’ll talk afterwards.”
+
+When we had eaten, somewhat silently, I asked Bickley what he made of
+the business; also whither he thought the sleepers had gone.
+
+“I think I can answer the last question,” interrupted Bastin. “I expect
+it is to a place well known to students of the Bible which even Bickley
+mentions sometimes when he is angry. At any rate, they seem to be very
+fond of heat, for they wouldn’t part from it even in their coffins, and
+you will admit that they are not quite natural, although that
+Glittering Lady is so attractive as regards her exterior.”
+
+Bickley waved these remarks aside and addressed himself to me.
+
+“I don’t know what to think of it,” he said; “but as the experience is
+not natural and everything in the Universe, so far as we know it, has a
+natural explanation, I am inclined to the belief that we are suffering
+from hallucinations, which in their way are also quite natural. It does
+not seem possible that two people can really have been asleep for an
+unknown length of time enclosed in vessels of glass or crystal, kept
+warm by radium or some such substance, and then emerge from them
+comparatively strong and well. It is contrary to natural law.”
+
+“How about microbes?” I asked. “They are said to last practically for
+ever, and they are living things. So in their case your natural law
+breaks down.”
+
+“That is true,” he answered. “Some microbes in a sealed tube and under
+certain conditions do appear to possess indefinite powers of life. Also
+radium has an indefinite life, but that is a mineral. Only these people
+are not microbes nor are they minerals. Also, experience tells us that
+they could not have lived for more than a few months at the outside in
+such circumstances as we seemed to find them.”
+
+“Then what do you suggest?”
+
+“I suggest that we did not really find them at all; that we have all
+been dreaming. You know that there are certain gases which produce
+illusions, laughing gas is one of them, and that these gases are
+sometimes met with in caves. Now there were very peculiar odours in
+that place under the statue, which may have worked upon our
+imaginations in some such way. Otherwise we are up against a miracle,
+and, as you know, I do not believe in miracles.”
+
+“_I_ do,” said Bastin calmly. “You’ll find all about it in the Bible if
+you will only take the trouble to read. Why do you talk such rubbish
+about gases?”
+
+“Because only gas, or something of the sort, could have made us imagine
+them.”
+
+“Nonsense, Bickley! Those people were here right enough. Didn’t they
+eat our fruit and drink the water I brought them without ever saying
+thank you? Only, they are not human. They are evil spirits, and for my
+part I don’t want to see any more of them, though I have no doubt
+Arbuthnot does, as that Glittering Lady threw her arms round his neck
+when she woke up, and already he is calling her by her Christian name,
+if the word Christian can be used in connection with her. The old
+fellow had the impudence to tell us that he was a god, and it is
+remarkable that he should have called himself Oro, seeing that the
+devil they worship on the island is also called Oro and the place
+itself is named Orofena.”
+
+“As to where they have gone,” continued Bickley, taking no notice of
+Bastin, “I really don’t know. My expectation is, however, that when we
+go to look tomorrow morning—and I suggest that we should not do so
+before then in order that we may give our minds time to clear—we shall
+find that sepulchre place quite empty, even perhaps without the crystal
+coffins we have imagined to stand there.”
+
+“Perhaps we shall find that there isn’t a cave at all and that we are
+not sitting on a flat rock outside of it,” suggested Bastin with heavy
+sarcasm, adding, “You are clever in your way, Bickley, but you can talk
+more rubbish than any man I ever knew.”
+
+“They told us they would come back tonight or tomorrow,” I said. “If
+they do, what will you say then, Bickley?”
+
+“I will wait till they come to answer that question. Now let us go for
+a walk and try to change our thoughts. We are all over-strained and
+scarcely know what we are saying.”
+
+“One more question,” I said as we rose to start. “Did Tommy suffer from
+hallucinations as well as ourselves?”
+
+“Why not?” answered Bickley. “He is an animal just as we are, or
+perhaps we thought we saw Tommy do the things he did.”
+
+“When you found that basket of fruit, Bastin, which the natives brought
+over in the canoe, was there a bough covered with red flowers lying on
+the top of it?”
+
+“Yes, Arbuthnot, one bough only; I threw it down on the rock as it got
+in the way when I was carrying the basket.”
+
+“Which flowering bough we all thought we saw the Sleeper Oro carry away
+after Tommy had brought it to him.”
+
+“Yes; he made me pick it up and give it to him,” said Bastin.
+
+“Well, if we did not see this it should still be lying on the rock, as
+there has been no wind and there are no animals here to carry it away.
+You will admit that, Bickley?”
+
+He nodded.
+
+“Then if it has gone you will admit also that the presumption is that
+we saw what we thought we did see?”
+
+“I do not know how that conclusion can be avoided, at any rate so far
+as the incident of the bough is concerned,” replied Bickley with
+caution.
+
+Then, without more words, we started to look. At the spot where the
+bough should have been, there was no bough, but on the rock lay several
+of the red flowers, bitten off, I suppose, by Tommy while he was
+carrying it. Nor was this all. I think I have mentioned that the
+Glittering Lady wore sandals which were fastened with red studs that
+looked like rubies or carbuncles. On the rock lay one of these studs. I
+picked it up and we examined it. It had been sewn to the sandal-strap
+with golden thread or silk. Some of this substance hung from the hole
+drilled in the stone which served for an eye. It was as rotten as
+tinder, apparently with extreme age. Moreover, the hard gem itself was
+pitted as though the passage of time had taken effect upon it, though
+this may have been caused by other agencies, such as the action of the
+radium rays. I smiled at Bickley who looked disconcerted and even sad.
+In a way it is painful to see the effect upon an able and earnest man
+of the upsetting of his lifelong theories.
+
+We went for our walk, keeping to the flat lands at the foot of the
+volcano cone, for we seemed to have had enough of wonders and to desire
+to reassure ourselves, as it were, by the study of natural and familiar
+things. As it chanced, too, we were rewarded by sundry useful
+discoveries. Thus we found a place where the bread-tree and other
+fruits, most of them now ripe, grew in abundance, as did the yam. Also,
+we came to an inlet that we noticed was crowded with large and
+beautiful fish from the lake, which seemed to find it a favourite spot.
+Perhaps this was because a little stream of excellent water ran in
+here, overflowing from the great pool or mere which filled the crater
+above.
+
+At these finds we rejoiced greatly, for now we knew that we need not
+fear starvation even should our supply of food from the main island be
+cut off. Indeed, by help of some palm-leaf stalks which we wove
+together roughly, Bastin, who was rather clever at this kind of thing,
+managed to trap four fish weighing two or three pounds apiece, wading
+into the water to do so. It was curious to observe with what ease he
+adapted himself to the manners and customs of primeval man, so much so,
+indeed, that Bickley remarked that if he could believe in
+re-incarnation, he would be absolutely certain that Bastin was a
+troglodyte in his last sojourn on the earth.
+
+However this might be, Bastin’s primeval instincts and abilities were
+of the utmost service to us. Before we had been many days on that
+island he had built us a kind of native hut or house roofed with palm
+leaves in which, until provided with a better, as happened afterwards,
+we ate and he and Bickley slept, leaving the tent to me. Moreover, he
+wove a net of palm fibre with which he caught abundance of fish, and
+made fishing-lines of the same material (fortunately we had some hooks)
+which he baited with freshwater mussels and the insides of fish. By
+means of these he secured some veritable monsters of the carp species
+that proved most excellent eating. His greatest triumph, however, was a
+decoy which he constructed of boughs, wherein he trapped a number of
+waterfowl. So that soon we kept a very good table of a sort, especially
+after he had learned how to cook our food upon the native plan by means
+of hot stones. This suited us admirably, as it enabled Bickley and
+myself to devote all our time to archaeological and other studies which
+did not greatly interest Bastin.
+
+By the time that we got back to camp it was drawing towards evening, so
+we cooked our food and ate, and then, thoroughly exhausted, made
+ourselves as comfortable as we could and went to sleep. Even our
+marvelous experiences could not keep Bickley and myself from sleeping,
+and on Bastin such things had no effect. He accepted them and that was
+all, much more readily than we did, indeed. Triple-armed as he was in
+the mail of a child-like faith, he snapped his fingers at evil spirits
+which he supposed the Sleepers to be, and at everything else that other
+men might dread.
+
+Now, as I have mentioned, after our talk with Marama, although we did
+not think it wise to adventure ourselves among them again at present,
+we had lost all fear of the Orofenans. In this attitude, so far as
+Marama himself and the majority of his people were concerned, we were
+quite justified, for they were our warm friends. But in the case of the
+sorcerers, the priests and all their rascally and superstitious
+brotherhood, we were by no means justified. They had not forgiven
+Bastin his sacrilege or for his undermining of their authority by the
+preaching of new doctrines which, if adopted, would destroy them as a
+hierarchy. Nor had they forgiven Bickley for shooting one of their
+number, or any of us for our escape from the vengeance of their god.
+
+So it came about that they made a plot to seize us all and hale us off
+to be sacrificed to a substituted image of Oro, which by now they had
+set up. They knew exactly where we slept upon the rock; indeed, our
+fire showed it to them and so far they were not afraid to venture,
+since here they had been accustomed for generations to lay their
+offerings to the god of the Mountain. Secretly on the previous night,
+without the knowledge of Marama, they had carried two more canoes to
+the borders of the lake. Now on this night, just as the moon was
+setting about three in the morning, they made their attack, twenty-one
+men in all, for the three canoes were large, relying on the following
+darkness to get us away and convey us to the place of sacrifice to be
+offered up at dawn and before Marama could interfere.
+
+The first we knew of the matter, for most foolishly we had neglected to
+keep a watch, was the unpleasant sensation of brawny savages kneeling
+on us and trussing us up with palm-fibre ropes. Also they thrust
+handfuls of dry grass into our mouths to prevent us from calling out,
+although as air came through the interstices of the grass, we did not
+suffocate. The thing was so well done that we never struck a blow in
+self-defence, and although we had our pistols at hand, much less could
+we fire a shot. Of course, we struggled as well as we were able, but it
+was quite useless; in three minutes we were as helpless as calves in a
+net and like calves were being conveyed to the butcher. Bastin managed
+to get the gag out of his mouth for a few seconds, and I heard him say
+in his slow, heavy voice:
+
+“This, Bickley, is what comes of trafficking with evil spirits in
+museum cases—” There his speech stopped, for the grass wad was jammed
+down his throat again, but distinctly I heard the inarticulate Bickley
+snort as he conceived the repartee he was unable to utter. As for
+myself, I reflected that the business served us right for not keeping a
+watch, and abandoned the issue to fate.
+
+Still, to confess the truth, I was infinitely more sorry to die than I
+should have been forty-eight hours earlier. This is a dull and in most
+ways a dreadful world, one, if we could only summon the courage, that
+some of us would be glad to leave in search of new adventures. But here
+a great and unprecedented adventure had begun to befall me, and before
+its mystery was solved, before even I could formulate a theory
+concerning it, my body must be destroyed, and my intelligence that was
+caged therein, sent far afield; or, if Bickley were right, eclipsed. It
+seemed so sad just when the impossible, like an unguessed wandering
+moon, had risen over the grey flats of the ascertained and made them
+shine with hope and wonder.
+
+They carried us off to the canoes, not too gently; indeed, I heard the
+bony frame of Bastin bump into the bottom of one of them and reflected,
+not without venom, that it served him right as he was the fount and
+origin of our woes. Two stinking magicians, wearing on their heads
+undress editions of their court cages, since these were too cumbersome
+for active work of the sort, and painted all over with various
+pigments, were just about to swing me after him into the same, or
+another canoe, when something happened. I did not know what it was, but
+as a result, my captors left hold of me so that I fell to the rock,
+lying upon my back.
+
+Then, within my line of vision, which, it must be remembered, was
+limited because I could not lift my head, appeared the upper part of
+the tall person of the Ancient who said that he was named Oro. I could
+only see him down to his middle, but I noted vaguely that he seemed to
+be much changed. For instance, he wore a different coloured dress, or
+rather robe; this time it was dark blue, which caused me to wonder
+where on earth it came from. Also, his tremendous beard had been
+trimmed and dressed, and on his head there was a simple black cap,
+strangely quilted, which looked as though it were made of velvet.
+Moreover, his face had plumped out. He still looked ancient, it is
+true, and unutterably wise, but now he resembled an antique youth, so
+great were his energy and vigour. Also, his dark and glowing eyes shone
+with a fearful intensity. In short, he seemed impressive and terrible
+almost beyond imagining.
+
+He looked about him slowly, then asked in a deep, cold voice, speaking
+in the Orofenan tongue:
+
+“What do you, slaves?”
+
+No one seemed able to answer, they were too horror-stricken at this
+sudden vision of their fabled god, whose fierce features of wood had
+become flesh; they only turned to fly. He waved his thin hand and they
+came to a standstill, like animals which have reached the end of their
+tether and are checked by the chains that bind them. There they stood
+in all sorts of postures, immovable and looking extremely ridiculous in
+their paint and feathers, with dread unutterable stamped upon their
+evil faces.
+
+The Sleeper spoke again:
+
+“You would murder as did your forefathers, O children of snakes and
+hogs fashioned in the shape of men. You would sacrifice those who dwell
+in my shadow to satisfy your hate because they are wiser than you. Come
+hither thou,” and he beckoned with a bony finger to the chief magician.
+
+The man advanced towards him in short jumps, as a mechanical toy might
+do, and stood before him, his miniature crate and feathers all awry and
+the sweat of terror melting the paint in streaks upon his face.
+
+“Look into the eyes of Oro, O worshipper of Oro,” said the Sleeper, and
+he obeyed, his own eyes starting out of his head.
+
+“Receive the curse of Oro,” said the Ancient again. Then followed a
+terrible spectacle. The man went raving mad. He bounded into the air to
+a height inconceivable. He threw himself upon the ground and rolled
+upon the rock. He rose again and staggered round and round, tearing
+pieces out of his arms with his teeth. He yelled hideously like one
+possessed. He grovelled, beating his forehead against the rock. Then he
+sat up, slowly choked and—died.
+
+His companions seemed to catch the infection of death as terrified
+savages often do. They too performed dreadful antics, all except three
+of them who stood paralysed. They rushed about battering each other
+with their fists and wooden weapons, looking like devils from hell in
+their hideous painted attire. They grappled and fought furiously. They
+separated and plunged into the lake, where with a last grimace they
+sank like stones.
+
+It seemed to last a long while, but I think that as a matter of fact
+within five minutes it was over; they were all dead. Only the three
+paralysed ones remained standing and rolling their eyes.
+
+The Sleeper beckoned to them with his thin finger, and they walked
+forward in step like soldiers.
+
+“Lift that man from the boat,” he said, pointing to Bastin, “cut his
+bonds and those of the others.”
+
+They obeyed with a wonderful alacrity. In a minute we stood at liberty
+and were pulling the grass gags from our mouths. The Ancient pointed to
+the head magician who lay dead upon the rock, his hideous, contorted
+countenance staring open-eyed at heaven.
+
+“Take that sorcerer and show him to the other sorcerers yonder,” he
+said, “and tell them where your fellows are if they would find them.
+Know by these signs that the Oro, god of the Mountain, who has slept a
+while, is awake, and ill will it go with them who question his power or
+dare to try to harm those who dwell in his house. Bring food day by day
+and await commands. Begone!”
+
+The dreadful-looking body was bundled into one of the canoes, that out
+of which Bastin had emerged. A rower sprang into each of them and
+presently was paddling as he had never done before. As the setting moon
+vanished, they vanished with it, and once more there was a great
+silence.
+
+“I am going to find my boots,” said Bastin. “This rock is hard and I
+hurt my feet kicking at those poor fellows who appear to have come to a
+bad end, how, I do not exactly understand. Personally, I think that
+more allowances should have been made for them, as I hope will be the
+case elsewhere, since after all they only acted according to their
+lights.”
+
+“Curse their lights!” ejaculated Bickley, feeling his throat which was
+bruised. “I’m glad they are out.”
+
+Bastin limped away in search of his boots, but Bickley and I stood
+where we were contemplating the awakened Sleeper. All recollection of
+the recent tumultuous scene seemed to have passed from his mind, for he
+was engaged in a study of the heavens. They were wonderfully brilliant
+now that the moon was down, brilliant as they only can be in the
+tropics when the sky is clear.
+
+Something caused me to look round, and there, coming towards us, was
+she who said her name was Yva. Evidently all her weakness had departed
+also, for now she needed no support, but walked with a peculiar gliding
+motion that reminded me of a swan floating forward on the water. Well
+had we named her the Glittering Lady, for in the starlight literally
+she seemed to glitter. I suppose the effect came from her golden
+raiment, which, however, I noticed, as in her father’s case, was not
+the same that she had worn in the coffin; also from her hair that
+seemed to give out a light of its own. At least, she shimmered as she
+came, her tall shape swaying at every step like a willow in the wind.
+She drew near, and I saw that her face, too, had filled out and now was
+that of one in perfect health and vigour, while her eyes shone softly
+and seemed wondrous large.
+
+In her hands she carried those two plates of metal which I had seen
+lying in the coffin of the Sleeper Oro. These she gave to him, then
+fell back out of his hearing—if it were ever possible to do this, a
+point on which I am not sure—and began to talk to me. I noted at once
+that in the few hours during which she was absent, her knowledge of the
+Orofenan tongue seemed to have improved greatly as though she had drunk
+deeply from some hidden fount of memory. Now she spoke it with
+readiness, as Oro had done when he addressed the sorcerers, although
+many of the words she used were not known to me, and the general form
+of her language appeared archaic, as for instance that of Spenser as
+compared with modern English. When she saw I did not comprehend her,
+however, she would stop and cast her sentences in a different shape,
+till at length I caught her meaning. Now I give the substance of what
+she said.
+
+“You are safe,” she began, glancing first at the palm ropes that lay
+upon the rock and then at my wrists, one of which was cut.
+
+“Yes, Lady Yva, thanks to your father.”
+
+“You should say thanks to me. My father was thinking of other things,
+but I was thinking of you strangers, and from where I was I saw those
+wicked ones coming to kill you.”
+
+“Oh! from the top of the mountain, I suppose.”
+
+She shook her head and smiled but vouchsafed no further explanation,
+unless her following words can be so called. These were:
+
+“I can see otherwise than with my eyes, if I choose.” A statement that
+caused Bickley, who was listening, to mutter:
+
+“Impossible! What the deuce can she mean? Telepathy, perhaps.”
+
+“I saw,” she continued, “and told the Lord, my father. He came forth.
+Did he kill them? I did not look to learn.”
+
+“Yes. They lie in the lake, all except three whom he sent away as
+messengers.”
+
+“I thought so. Death is terrible, O Humphrey, but it is a sword which
+those who rule must use to smite the wicked and the savage.”
+
+Not wishing to pursue this subject, I asked her what her father was
+doing with the metal plates.
+
+“He reads the stars,” she answered, “to learn how long we have been
+asleep. Before we went to sleep he made two pictures of them, as they
+were then and as they should be at the time he had set for our
+awakening.”
+
+“We set that time,” interrupted Bickley.
+
+“Not so, O Bickley,” she answered, smiling again. “In the divine Oro’s
+head was the time set. You were the hand that executed his decree.”
+
+When Bickley heard this I really thought he would have burst. However,
+he controlled himself nobly, being anxious to hear the end of this
+mysterious fib.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+“How long was the time that the lord Oro set apart for sleep?” I asked.
+
+She paused as though puzzled to find words to express her meaning, then
+held up her hands and said:
+
+“Ten,” nodding at her fingers. By second thoughts she took Bickley’s
+hands, not mine, and counted his ten fingers.
+
+“Ten years,” said Bickley. “Well, of course, it is impossible, but
+perhaps—” and he paused.
+
+“Ten tens,” she went on with a deepening smile, “one hundred.”
+
+“O!” said Bickley.
+
+“Ten hundreds, one thousand.”
+
+“I say!” said Bickley.
+
+“Ten times ten thousand, one hundred thousand.”
+
+Bickley became silent.
+
+“Twice one hundred thousand and half a hundred thousand, two hundred
+and fifty thousand years. _That_ was the space of time which the lord
+Oro, my father, set for our sleep. Whether it has been fulfilled he
+will know presently when he has read the book of the stars and made
+comparison of it with what he wrote before we laid us down to rest,”
+and she pointed to the metal plates which the Ancient was studying.
+
+Bickley walked away, making sounds as though he were going to be ill
+and looking so absurd in his indignation that I nearly laughed. The
+Lady Yva actually did laugh, and very musical was that laugh.
+
+“He does not believe,” she said. “He is so clever he knows everything.
+But two hundred and fifty thousand years ago we should have thought him
+quite stupid. Then we could read the stars and calculate their
+movements for ever.”
+
+“So can we,” I answered, rather nettled.
+
+“I am glad, O Humphrey, since you will be able to show my father if in
+one of them he is wrong.”
+
+Secretly I hoped that this task would not be laid on me. Indeed, I
+thought it well to change the subject for the edification of Bickley
+who had recovered and was drawn back by his eager curiosity. Just then,
+too, Bastin joined us, happy in his regained boots.
+
+“You tell us, Lady Yva,” I said, “that you slept, or should have slept
+for two hundred and fifty thousand years.” Here Bastin opened his eyes.
+“If that was so, where was your mind all this time?”
+
+“If by my mind you mean spirit, O Humphrey, I have to answer that at
+present I do not know for certain. I think, however, that it dwelt
+elsewhere, perhaps in other bodies on the earth, or some different
+earth. At least, I know that my heart is very full of memories which as
+yet I cannot unroll and read.”
+
+“Great heavens, this is madness!” said Bickley.
+
+“In the great heavens,” she answered slowly, “there are many things
+which you, poor man, would think to be madness, but yet are truth and
+perfect wisdom. These things, or some of them, soon I shall hope to
+show you.”
+
+“Do if you can,” said Bickley.
+
+“Why not?” interrupted Bastin. “I think the lady’s remarks quite
+reasonable. It seems to me highly improbable if really she has slept
+for two hundred and fifty thousand years, which, of course, I can’t
+decide, that an immortal spirit would be allowed to remain idle for so
+long. That would be wallowing in a bed of idleness and shirking its
+duty which is to do its work. Also, as she tells you, Bickley, you are
+not half so clever as you think you are in your silly scepticism, and I
+have no doubt that there are many things in other worlds which would
+expose your ignorance, if only you could see them.”
+
+At this moment Oro turned and called his daughter. She went at once,
+saying:
+
+“Come, strangers, and you shall learn.”
+
+So we followed her.
+
+“Daughter,” he said, speaking in Orofenan, I think that we might
+understand, “ask these strangers to bring one of those lamps of theirs
+that by the light of it I may study these writings.”
+
+“Perhaps this may serve,” said Bickley, suddenly producing an electric
+torch from his pocket and flashing it into his face. It was his form of
+repartee for all he had suffered at the hands of this incomprehensible
+pair. Let me say at once that it was singularly successful. Perhaps the
+wisdom of the ages in which Oro flourished had overlooked so small a
+matter as electric torches, or perhaps he did not expect to meet with
+them in these degenerate days. At any rate for the first and last time
+in my intercourse with him I saw the god, or lord—the native word bears
+either meaning—Oro genuinely astonished. He started and stepped back,
+and for a moment or two seemed a little frightened. Then muttering
+something as to the cleverness of this light-producing instrument, he
+motioned to his daughter to take it from Bickley and hold it in a
+certain position. She obeyed, and in its illumination he began to study
+the engraved plates, holding one of them in either hand.
+
+After a while he gave me one of the plates to hold, and with his
+disengaged hand pointed successively to the constellation of Orion, to
+the stars Castor, Pollux, Aldebaran, Rigel, the Pleiades, Sirius and
+others which with my very limited knowledge I could not recognise
+offhand. Then on the plate which I held, he showed us those same stars
+and constellations, checking them one by one.
+
+Then he remarked very quietly that all was in order, and handing the
+plate he held to Yva, said:
+
+“The calculations made so long ago are correct, nor have the stars
+varied in their proper motions during what is after all but an hour of
+time. If you, Stranger, who, I understand, are named Humphrey, should
+be, as I gather, a heaven-master, naturally you will ask me how I could
+fix an exact date by the stars without an error of, let us say, from
+five to ten thousand years. I answer you that by the proper motion of
+the stars alone it would have been difficult. Therefore I remember that
+in order to be exact, I calculated the future conjunctions of those two
+planets,” and he pointed to Saturn and Jupiter. “Finding that one of
+these occurred near yonder star,” and he indicated the bright orb,
+Spica, “at a certain time, I determined that then I would awake.
+Behold! There are the stars as I engraved them from my foreknowledge,
+upon this chart, and there those two great planets hang in conjunction.
+Daughter Yva, my wisdom has not failed me. This world of ours has
+travelled round the sun neither less nor more than two hundred and
+fifty thousand times since we laid ourselves down to sleep. It is
+written here, and yonder,” and he pointed, first to the engraved plates
+and then to the vast expanse of the starlit heavens.
+
+Awe fell on me; I think that even Bickley and Bastin were awed, at any
+rate for the moment. It was a terrible thing to look on a being, to all
+appearance more or less human, who alleged that he had been asleep for
+two hundred and fifty thousand years, and proceeded to prove it by
+certain ancient star charts. Of course at the time I could not check
+those charts, lacking the necessary knowledge, but I have done so since
+and found that they are quite accurate. However this made no
+difference, since the circumstances and something in his manner
+convinced me that he spoke the absolute truth.
+
+He and his daughter had been asleep for two hundred and fifty thousand
+years. Oh! Heavens, _for two hundred and fifty thousand years!_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+Oro Speaks and Bastin Argues
+
+
+The reader of what I have written, should there ever be such a person,
+may find the record marvelous, and therefore rashly conclude that
+because it is beyond experience, it could not be. It is not a wise
+deduction, as I think Bickley would admit today, because without doubt
+many things are which surpass our extremely limited experience.
+However, those who draw the veil from the Unknown and reveal the New,
+must expect incredulity, and accept it without grumbling. Was that not
+the fate, for instance, of those who in the Middle Ages, a few hundred
+years ago, discovered, or rather rediscovered the mighty movements of
+those constellations which served Oro for an almanac?
+
+But the point I want to make is that if the sceptic plays a Bickleyan
+part as regards what has been written, it seems probable that his
+attitude will be accentuated as regards that which it still remains for
+me to write. If so, I cannot help it, and must decline entirely to
+water down or doctor facts and thus pander to his prejudice and
+ignorance. For my part I cannot attempt to explain these occurrences; I
+only know that they happened and that I set down what I saw, heard and
+felt, neither more nor less.
+
+Immediately after Oro had triumphantly vindicated his stellar
+calculations he turned and departed into the cave, followed by his
+daughter, waving to us to remain where we were. As she passed us,
+however, the Glittering Lady whispered—this time to Bastin—that he
+would see them again in a few hours, adding:
+
+“We have much to learn and I hope that then you who, I understand, are
+a priest, will begin to teach us of your religion and other matters.”
+
+Bastin was so astonished that he could make no reply, but when they had
+gone he said:
+
+“Which of you told her that I was a priest?”
+
+We shook our heads for neither of us could remember having done so.
+
+“Well, I did not,” continued Bastin, “since at present I have found no
+opportunity of saying a word in season. So I suppose she must have
+gathered it from my attire, though as a matter of fact I haven’t been
+wearing a collar, and those men who wanted to cook me, pulled off my
+white tie and I didn’t think it worth while dirtying a clean one.”
+
+“If,” said Bickley, “you imagine that you look like the minister of any
+religion ancient or modern in a grubby flannel shirt, a battered
+sun-helmet, a torn green and white umbrella and a pair of ragged duck
+trousers, you are mistaken, Bastin, that is all.”
+
+“I admit that the costume is not appropriate, Bickley, but how
+otherwise could she have learned the truth?”
+
+“These people seem to have ways of learning a good many things. But in
+your case, Bastin, the cause is clear enough. You have been walking
+about with the head of that idol and always keep it close to you. No
+doubt they believe that you are a priest of the worship of the god of
+the Grove—Baal, you know, or something of that sort.”
+
+When he heard this Bastin’s face became a perfect picture. Never before
+did I see it so full of horror struggling with indignation.
+
+“I must undeceive them without a moment’s delay,” he said, and was
+starting for the cave when we caught his arms and held him.
+
+“Better wait till they come back, old fellow,” I said, laughing. “If
+you disobey that Lord Oro you may meet with another experience in the
+sacrifice line.”
+
+“Perhaps you are right, Arbuthnot. I will occupy the interval in
+preparing a suitable address.”
+
+“Much better occupy it in preparing breakfast,” said Bickley. “I have
+always noticed that you are at your best extempore.”
+
+In the end he did prepare breakfast though in a _distrait_ fashion;
+indeed I found him beginning to make tea in the frying-pan. Bastin felt
+that his opportunity had arrived, and was making ready to rise to the
+occasion.
+
+Also we felt, all three of us, that we were extremely shabby-looking
+objects, and though none of us said so, each did his best to improve
+his personal appearance. First of all Bickley cut Bastin’s and my hair,
+after which I did him the same service. Then Bickley who was normally
+clean shaven, set to work to remove a beard of about a week’s growth,
+and I who wore one of the pointed variety, trimmed up mine as best I
+could with the help of a hand-glass. Bastin, too, performed on his
+which was of the square and rather ragged type, wisely rejecting
+Bickley’s advice to shave it off altogether, offered, I felt convinced,
+because he felt that the result on Bastin would be too hideous for
+words. After this we cut our nails, cleaned our teeth and bathed; I
+even caught Bickley applying hair tonic from his dressing case in
+secret, behind a projecting rock, and borrowed some myself. He gave it
+me on condition that I did not mention its existence to Bastin who, he
+remarked, would certainly use the lot and make himself smell horrible.
+
+Next we found clean ducks among our store of spare clothes, for the
+Orofenans had brought these with our other possessions, and put them
+on, even adding silk cumberbunds and neckties. My tie I fastened with a
+pin that I had obtained in Egypt. It was a tiny gold statuette of very
+fine and early workmanship, of the god Osiris, wearing the crown of the
+Upper Land with the uraeus crest, and holding in his hands, which
+projected from the mummy wrappings, the emblems of the crook, the
+scourge and the _crux ansata_, or Sign of Life.
+
+Bastin, for his part, arrayed himself in full clerical costume, black
+coat and trousers, white tie and stick-up clergyman’s collar which, as
+he remarked, made him feel extremely hot in that climate, and were
+unsuitable to domestic duties, such as washing-up. I offered to hold
+his coat while he did this office and told him he looked very nice
+indeed.
+
+“Beautiful!” remarked Bickley, “but why don’t you put on your surplice
+and biretta?” (Being very High-Church Bastin did wear a biretta on
+festival Sundays at home.) “There would be no mistake about you then.”
+
+“I do not think it would be suitable,” replied Bastin whose sense of
+humour was undeveloped. “There is no service to be performed at present
+and no church, though perhaps that cave—” and he stopped.
+
+When we had finished these vain adornments and Bastin had put away the
+things and tidied up, we sat down, rather at a loose end. We should
+have liked to walk but refrained from doing so for fear lest we might
+dirty our clean clothes. So we just sat and thought. At least Bickley
+thought, and so did I for a while until I gave it up. What was the use
+of thinking, seeing that we were face to face with circumstances which
+baffled reason and beggared all recorded human experience? What Bastin
+did I am sure I do not know, but I think from the expression of his
+countenance that he was engaged in composing sermons for the benefit of
+Oro and the Glittering Lady.
+
+One diversion we did have. About eleven o’clock a canoe came from the
+main island laden with provisions and paddled by Marama and two of his
+people. We seized our weapons, remembering our experiences of the
+night, but Marama waved a bough in token of peace. So, carrying our
+revolvers, we went to the rock edge to meet him. He crept ashore and,
+chief though he was, prostrated himself upon his face before us, which
+told me that he had heard of the fate of the sorcerers. His apologies
+were abject. He explained that he had no part in the outrage of the
+attack, and besought us to intercede on behalf of him and his people
+with the awakened god of the Mountain whom he looked for with a
+terrified air.
+
+We consoled him as well as we could, and told him that he had best be
+gone before the god of the Mountain appeared, and perhaps treated him
+as he had done the sorcerers. In his name, however, we commanded Marama
+to bring materials and build us a proper house upon the rock, also to
+be sure to keep up a regular and ample supply of provisions. If he did
+these things, and anything else we might from time to time command, we
+said that perhaps his life and those of his people would be spared.
+This, however, after the evil behaviour of some of them of course we
+could not guarantee.
+
+Marama departed so thoroughly frightened that he even forgot to make
+any inquiries as to who this god of the Mountain might be, or where he
+came from, or whither he was going. Of course, the place had been
+sacred among his people from the beginning, whenever that may have
+been, but that its sacredness should materialise into an active god who
+brought sorcerers of the highest reputation to a most unpleasant end,
+just because they wished to translate their preaching into practice,
+was another matter. It was not to be explained even by the fact of
+which he himself had informed me, that during the dreadful storm of
+some months before, the cave mouth which previously was not visible on
+the volcano, had suddenly been lifted up above the level of the Rock of
+Offerings, although, of course, all religious and instructed persons
+would have expected something peculiar to happen after this event.
+
+Such I knew were his thoughts, but, as I have said, he was too
+frightened and too hurried to express them in questions that I should
+have found it extremely difficult to answer. As it was he departed
+quite uncertain as to whether one of us was not the real “god of the
+Mountain,” who had power to bring hideous death upon his molesters.
+After all, what had he to go on to the contrary, except the word of
+three priests who were so terrified that they could give no coherent
+account of what had happened? Of these events, it was true, there was
+evidence in the twisted carcass of their lamented high sorcerer, and,
+for the matter of that, of certain corpses which he had seen, that lay
+in shallow water at the bottom of the lake. Beyond all was vague, and
+in his heart I am sure that Marama believed that Bastin was the real
+“god of the Mountain.” Naturally, he would desire to work vengeance on
+those who tried to sacrifice and eat him. Moreover, had he not
+destroyed the image of the god of the Grove and borne away its head
+whence he had sucked magic and power?
+
+Thus argued Marama, disbelieving the tale of the frightened sorcerers,
+for he admitted as much to me in after days.
+
+Marama departed in a great hurry, fearing lest the “god of the
+Mountain,” or Bastin, whose new and splendid garb he regarded with much
+suspicion, might develop some evil energy against him. Then we went
+back to our camp, leaving the industrious Bastin, animated by a
+suggestion from Bickley that the fruit and food might spoil if left in
+the sun, to carry it into the shade of the cave. Owing to the terrors
+of the Orofenans the supply was so large that to do this he must make
+no fewer than seven journeys, which he did with great good will since
+Bastin loved physical exercise. The result on his clerical garments,
+however, was disastrous. His white tie went awry, squashed fruit and
+roast pig gravy ran down his waistcoat and trousers, and his high
+collar melted into limp crinkles in the moisture engendered by the
+tropical heat. Only his long coat escaped, since that Bickley kindly
+carried for him.
+
+It was just as he arrived with the seventh load in this extremely
+dishevelled condition that Oro and his daughter emerged from the cave.
+Indeed Bastin, who, being shortsighted, always wore spectacles that,
+owing to his heated state were covered with mist, not seeing that
+dignitary, dumped down the last basket on to his toes, exclaiming:
+
+“There, you lazy beggar, I told you I would bring it all, and I have.”
+
+In fact he thought he was addressing Bickley and playing off on him a
+troglodytic practical joke.
+
+Oro, however, who at his age did not appreciate jokes, resented it and
+was about to do something unpleasant when with extraordinary tact his
+daughter remarked:
+
+“Bastin the priest makes you offerings. Thank him, O Lord my father.”
+
+So Oro thanked him, not too cordially for evidently he still had
+feeling in his toes, and once more Bastin escaped. Becoming aware of
+his error, he began to apologise profusely in English, while the lady
+Yva studied him carefully.
+
+“Is that the costume of the priests of your religion, O Bastin?” she
+asked, surveying his dishevelled form. “If so, you were better without
+it.”
+
+Then Bastin retired to straighten his tie, and grabbing his coat from
+Bickley, who handed it to him with a malicious smile, forced his
+perspiring arms into it in a peculiarly awkward and elephantine
+fashion.
+
+Meanwhile Bickley and I produced two camp chairs which we had made
+ready, and on these the wondrous pair seated themselves side by side.
+
+“We have come to learn,” said Oro. “Teach!”
+
+“Not so, Father,” interrupted Yva, who, I noted, was clothed in yet a
+third costume, though whence these came I could not imagine. “First I
+would ask a question. Whence are you, Strangers, and how came you
+here?”
+
+“We are from the country called England and a great storm shipwrecked
+us here; that, I think, which raised the mouth of the cave above the
+level of this rock,” I answered.
+
+“The time appointed having come when it should be raised,” said Oro as
+though to himself.
+
+“Where is England?” asked Yva.
+
+Now among the books we had with us was a pocket atlas, quite a good one
+of its sort. By way of answer I opened it at the map of the world and
+showed her England. Also I showed, to within a thousand miles or so,
+that spot on the earth’s surface where we spoke together.
+
+The sight of this atlas excited the pair greatly. They had not the
+slightest difficulty in understanding everything about it and the shape
+of the world with its division into hemispheres seemed to be quite
+familiar to them. What appeared chiefly to interest them, and
+especially Oro, were the relative areas and positions of land and sea.
+
+“Of this, Strangers,” he said, pointing to the map, “I shall have much
+to say to you when I have studied the pictures of your book and
+compared them with others of my own.”
+
+“So he has got maps,” said Bickley in English, “as well as star charts.
+I wonder where he keeps them.”
+
+“With his clothes, I expect,” suggested Bastin.
+
+Meanwhile Oro had hidden the atlas in his ample robe and motioned to
+his daughter to proceed.
+
+“Why do you come here from England so far away?” the Lady Yva asked, a
+question to which each of us had an answer.
+
+“To see new countries,” I said.
+
+“Because the cyclone brought us,” said Bickley.
+
+“To convert the heathen to my own Christian religion,” said Bastin,
+which was not strictly true.
+
+It was on this last reply that she fixed.
+
+“What does your religion teach?” she asked.
+
+“It teaches that those who accept it and obey its commands will live
+again after death for ever in a better world where is neither sorrow
+nor sin,” he answered.
+
+When he heard this saying I saw Oro start as though struck by a new
+thought and look at Bastin with a curious intentness.
+
+“Who are the heathen?” Yva asked again after a pause, for she also
+seemed to be impressed.
+
+“All who do not agree with Bastin’s spiritual views,” answered Bickley.
+
+“Those who, whether from lack of instruction or from hardness of heart,
+do not follow the true faith. For instance, I suppose that your father
+and you are heathen,” replied Bastin stoutly.
+
+This seemed to astonish them, but presently Yva caught his meaning and
+smiled, while Oro said:
+
+“Of this great matter of faith we will talk later. It is an old
+question in the world.”
+
+“Why,” went on Yva, “if you wished to travel so far did you come in a
+ship that so easily is wrecked? Why did you not journey through the
+air, or better still, pass through space, leaving your bodies asleep,
+as, being instructed, doubtless you can do?”
+
+“As regards your first question,” I answered, “there are no aircraft
+known that can make so long a journey.”
+
+“And as regards the second,” broke in Bickley, “we did not do so
+because it is impossible for men to transfer themselves to other places
+through space either with or without their bodies.”
+
+At this information the Glittering Lady lifted her arched eyebrows and
+smiled a little, while Oro said:
+
+“I perceive that the new world has advanced but a little way on the
+road of knowledge.”
+
+Fearing that Bastin was about to commence an argument, I began to ask
+questions in my turn.
+
+“Lord Oro and Lady Yva,” I said, “we have told you something of
+ourselves and will tell you more when you desire it. But pardon us if
+first we pray you to tell us what we burn to know. Who are you? Of what
+race and country? And how came it that we found you sleeping yonder?”
+
+“If it be your pleasure, answer, my Father,” said Yva.
+
+Oro thought a moment, then replied in a calm voice:
+
+“I am a king who once ruled most of the world as it was in my day,
+though it is true that much of it rebelled against me, my councillors
+and servants. Therefore I destroyed the world as it was then, save only
+certain portions whence life might spread to the new countries that I
+raised up. Having done this I put myself and my daughter to sleep for a
+space of two hundred and fifty thousand years, that there might be time
+for fresh civilisations to arise. Now I begin to think that I did not
+allot a sufficiency of ages, since I perceive from what you tell me,
+that the learning of the new races is as yet but small.”
+
+Bickley and I looked at each other and were silent. Mentally we had
+collapsed. Who could begin to discuss statements built upon such a
+foundation of gigantic and paralysing falsehoods?
+
+Well, Bastin could for one. With no more surprise in his voice than if
+he were talking about last night’s dinner, he said:
+
+“There must be a mistake somewhere, or perhaps I misunderstand you. It
+is obvious that you, being a man, could not have destroyed the world.
+That could only be done by the Power which made it and you.”
+
+I trembled for the results of Bastin’s methods of setting out the
+truth. To my astonishment, however, Oro replied:
+
+“You speak wisely, Priest, but the Power you name may use instruments
+to accomplish its decrees. I am such an instrument.”
+
+“Quite so,” said Bastin, “just like anybody else. You have more
+knowledge of the truth than I thought. But pray, how did you destroy
+the world?”
+
+“Using my wisdom to direct the forces that are at work in the heart of
+this great globe, I drowned it with a deluge, causing one part to sink
+and another to rise, also changes of climate which completed the work.”
+
+“That’s quite right,” exclaimed Bastin delightedly. “We know all about
+the Deluge, only _you_ are not mentioned in connection with the matter.
+A man, Noah, had to do with it when he was six hundred years old.”
+
+“Six hundred?” said Oro. “That is not very old. I myself had seen more
+than a thousand years when I lay down to sleep.”
+
+“A thousand!” remarked Bastin, mildly interested. “That is unusual,
+though some of these mighty men of renown we know lived over nine
+hundred.”
+
+Here Bickley snorted and exclaimed:
+
+“Nine hundred moons, he means.”
+
+“I did not know Noah,” went on Oro. “Perhaps he lived after my time and
+caused some other local deluge. Is there anything else you wish to ask
+me before I leave you that I may study this map writing?”
+
+“Yes,” said Bastin. “Why were you allowed to drown your world?”
+
+“Because it was evil, Priest, and disobeyed me and the Power I serve.”
+
+“Oh! thank you,” said Bastin, “that fits in exactly. It was just the
+same in Noah’s time.”
+
+“I pray that it is not just the same now,” said Oro, rising. “To-morrow
+we will return, or if I do not who have much that I must do, the lady
+my daughter will return and speak with you further.”
+
+He departed into the cave, Yva following at a little distance.
+
+I accompanied her as far as the mouth of the cave, as did Tommy, who
+all this time had been sitting contentedly upon the hem of her gorgeous
+robe, quite careless of its immemorial age, if it was immemorial and
+not woven yesterday, a point on which I had no information.
+
+“Lady Yva,” I said, “did I rightly understand the Lord Oro to say that
+he was a thousand years old?”
+
+“Yes, O Humphrey, and really he is more, or so I think.”
+
+“Then are you a thousand years old also?” I asked, aghast.
+
+“No, no,” she replied, shaking her head, “I am young, quite young, for
+I do not count my time of sleep.”
+
+“Certainly you look it,” I said. “But what, Lady Yva, do you mean by
+young?”
+
+She answered my question by another.
+
+“What age are your women when they are as I am?”
+
+“None of our women were ever quite like you, Lady Yva. Yet, say from
+twenty-five to thirty years of age.”
+
+“Ah! I have been counting and now I remember. When my father sent me to
+sleep I was twenty-seven years old. No, I will not deceive you, I was
+twenty-seven years and three moons.” Then, saying something to the
+effect that she would return, she departed, laughing a little in a
+mischievous way, and, although I did not observe this till afterwards,
+Tommy departed with her.
+
+When I repeated what she had said to Bastin and Bickley, who were
+standing at a distance straining their ears and somewhat aggrieved, the
+former remarked:
+
+“If she is twenty-seven her father must have married late in life,
+though of course it may have been a long while before he had children.”
+
+Then Bickley, who had been suppressing himself all this while, went off
+like a bomb.
+
+“Do you tell us, Bastin,” he asked, “that you believe one word of all
+this ghastly rubbish? I mean as to that antique charlatan being a
+thousand years old and having caused the Flood and the rest?”
+
+“If you ask me, Bickley, I see no particular reason to doubt it at
+present. A person who can go to sleep in a glass coffin kept warm by a
+pocketful of radium together with very accurate maps of the
+constellations at the time he wakes up, can, I imagine, do most
+things.”
+
+“Even cause the Deluge,” jeered Bickley.
+
+“I don’t know about _the_ Deluge, but perhaps he may have been
+permitted to cause a deluge. Why not? You can’t look at things from far
+enough off, Bickley. And if something seems big to you, you conclude
+that therefore it is impossible. The same Power which gives you skill
+to succeed in an operation, that hitherto was held impracticable, as I
+know you have done once or twice, may have given that old fellow power
+to cause a deluge. You should measure the universe and its
+possibilities by worlds and not by acres, Bickley.”
+
+“And believe, I suppose, that a man can live a thousand years, whereas
+we know well that he cannot live more than about a hundred.”
+
+“You don’t _know_ anything of the sort, Bickley. All you know is that
+over the brief period of history with which we are acquainted, say ten
+thousand years at most, men have only lived to about a hundred. But the
+very rocks which you are so fond of talking about, tell us that even
+this planet is millions upon millions of years of age. Who knows then
+but that at some time in its history, men did not live for a thousand
+years, and that lost civilisations did not exist of which this Oro and
+his daughter may be two survivors?”
+
+“There is no proof of anything of the sort,” said Bickley.
+
+“I don’t know about proof, as you understand it, though I have read in
+Plato of a continent called Atlantis that was submerged, according to
+the story of old Egyptian priests. But personally I have every proof,
+for it is all written down in the Bible at which you turn up your nose,
+and I am very glad that I have been lucky enough to come across this
+unexpected confirmation of the story. Not that it matters much, since I
+should have learned all about it when it pleases Providence to remove
+me to a better world, which in our circumstances may happen any day.
+Now I must change my clothes before I see to the cooking and other
+things.”
+
+“I am bound to admit,” said Bickley, looking after him, “that old
+Bastin is not so stupid as he seems. From his point of view the
+arguments he advances are quite logical. Moreover I think he is right
+when he says that we look at things through the wrong end of the
+telescope. After all the universe is very big and who knows what may
+happen there? Who knows even what may have happened on this little
+earth during the æons of its existence, whenever its balance chanced to
+shift, as the Ice Ages show us it has often done? Still I believe that
+old Oro to be a Prince of Liars.”
+
+“That remains to be proved,” I answered cautiously. “All I know is that
+he is a wonderfully learned person of most remarkable appearance, and
+that his daughter is the loveliest creature I ever saw.”
+
+“There I agree,” said Bickley decidedly, “and as brilliant as she is
+lovely. If she belongs to a past civilisation, it is a pity that it
+ever became extinct. Now let’s go and have a nap. Bastin will call us
+when supper is ready.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+The Under-world
+
+
+That night we slept well and without fear, being quite certain that
+after their previous experience the Orofenans would make no further
+attempts upon us. Indeed our only anxiety was for Tommy, whom we could
+not find when the time came to give him his supper. Bastin, however,
+seemed to remember having seen him following the Glittering Lady into
+the cave. This, of course, was possible, as certainly he had taken an
+enormous fancy to her and sat himself down as close to her as he could
+on every occasion. He even seemed to like the ancient Oro, and was not
+afraid to jump up and plant his dirty paws upon that terrific person’s
+gorgeous robe. Moreover Oro liked him, for several times I observed him
+pat the dog upon the head; as I think I have said, the only human touch
+that I had perceived about him. So we gave up searching and calling in
+the hope that he was safe with our supernatural friends.
+
+The next morning quite early the Lady Yva appeared alone; no, not
+alone, for with her came our lost Tommy looking extremely spry and well
+at ease. The faithless little wretch just greeted us in a casual
+fashion and then went and sat by Yva. In fact when the awkward Bastin
+managed to stumble over the end of her dress Tommy growled at him and
+showed his teeth. Moreover the dog was changed. He was blessed with a
+shiny black coat, but now this coat sparkled in the sunlight, like the
+Lady Yva’s hair.
+
+“The Glittering Lady is all very well, but I’m not sure that I care for
+a glittering dog. It doesn’t look quite natural,” said Bastin,
+contemplating him.
+
+“Why does Tommy shine, Lady?” I asked.
+
+“Because I washed him in certain waters that we have, so that now he
+looks beautiful and smells sweet,” she answered, laughing.
+
+It was true, the dog did smell sweet, which I may add had not always
+been the case with him, especially when there were dead fish about.
+Also he appeared to have been fed, for he turned up his nose at the
+bits we had saved for his breakfast.
+
+“He has drunk of the Life-water,” explained Yva, “and will want no food
+for two days.”
+
+Bickley pricked up his ears at this statement and looked incredulous.
+
+“You do not believe, O Bickley,” she said, studying him gravely.
+“Indeed, you believe nothing. You think my father and I tell you many
+lies. Bastin there, he believes all. Humphrey? He is not sure; he
+thinks to himself, I will wait and find out whether or no these funny
+people cheat me.”
+
+Bickley coloured and made some remark about things which were contrary
+to experience, also that Tommy in a general way was rather a greedy
+little dog.
+
+“You, too, like to eat, Bickley” (this was true, he had an excellent
+appetite), “but when you have drunk the Life-water you will care much
+less.”
+
+“I am glad to hear it,” interrupted Bastin, “for Bickley wants a lot of
+cooking done, and I find it tedious.”
+
+“You eat also, Lady,” said Bickley.
+
+“Yes, I eat sometimes because I like it, but I can go weeks and not
+eat, when I have the Life-water. Just now, after so long a sleep, I am
+hungry. Please give me some of that fruit. No, not the flesh, flesh I
+hate.”
+
+We handed it to her. She took two plantains, peeled and ate them with
+extraordinary grace. Indeed she reminded me, I do not know why, of some
+lovely butterfly drawing its food from a flower.
+
+While she ate she observed us closely; nothing seemed to escape the
+quick glances of those beautiful eyes. Presently she said:
+
+“What, O Humphrey, is that with which you fasten your neckdress?” and
+she pointed to the little gold statue of Osiris that I used as a pin.
+
+I told her that it was a statuette of a god named Osiris and very, very
+ancient, probably quite five thousand years old, a statement at which
+she smiled a little; also that it came from Egypt.
+
+“Ah!” she answered, “is it so? I asked because we have figures that are
+very like to that one, and they also hold in their hands a staff
+surmounted by a loop. They are figures of Sleep’s brother—Death.”
+
+“So is this,” I said. “Among the Egyptians Osiris was the god of
+Death.”
+
+She nodded and replied that doubtless the symbol had come down to them.
+
+“One day you shall take me to see this land which you call so very old.
+Or I will take you, which would be quicker,” she added.
+
+We all bowed and said we should be delighted. Even Bastin appeared
+anxious to revisit Egypt in such company, though when he was there it
+seemed to bore him. But what she meant about taking us I could not
+guess. Nor had we time to ask her, for she went on, watching our faces
+as she spoke.
+
+“The Lord Oro sends you a message, Strangers. He asks whether it is
+your wish to see where we dwell. He adds that you are not to come if
+you do not desire, or if you fear danger.”
+
+We all answered that there was nothing we should like better, but
+Bastin added that he had already seen the tomb.
+
+“Do you think, Bastin, that we live in a tomb because we slept there
+for a while, awaiting the advent of you wanderers at the appointed
+hour?”
+
+“I don’t see where else it could be, unless it is further down that
+cave,” said Bastin. “The top of the mountain would not be convenient as
+a residence.”
+
+“It has not been convenient for many an age, for reasons that I will
+show you. Think now, before you come. You have naught to fear from us,
+and I believe that no harm will happen to you. But you will see many
+strange things that will anger Bickley because he cannot understand
+them, and perhaps will weary Bastin because his heart turns from what
+is wondrous and ancient. Only Humphrey will rejoice in them because the
+doors of his soul are open and he longs—what do you long for,
+Humphrey?”
+
+“That which I have lost and fear I shall never find again,” I answered
+boldly.
+
+“I know that you have lost many things—last night, for instance, you
+lost Tommy, and when he slept with me he told me much about you
+and—others.”
+
+“This is ridiculous,” broke in Bastin. “Can a dog talk?”
+
+“Everything can talk, if you understand its language, Bastin. But keep
+a good heart, Humphrey, for the bold seeker finds in the end. Oh!
+foolish man, do you not understand that all is yours if you have but
+the soul to conceive and the will to grasp? All, all, below, between,
+above! Even I know that, I who have so much to learn.”
+
+So she spoke and became suddenly magnificent. Her face which had been
+but that of a super-lovely woman, took on grandeur. Her bosom swelled;
+her presence radiated some subtle power, much as her hair radiated
+light.
+
+In a moment it was gone and she was smiling and jesting.
+
+“Will you come, Strangers, where Tommy was not afraid to go, down to
+the Under-world? Or will you stay here in the sun? Perhaps you will do
+better to stay here in the sun, for the Under-world has terrors for
+weak hearts that were born but yesterday, and feeble feet may stumble
+in the dark.”
+
+“I shall take my electric torch,” said Bastin with decision, “and I
+advise you fellows to do the same. I always hated cellars, and the
+catacombs at Rome are worse, though full of sacred interest.”
+
+Then we started, Tommy frisking on ahead in a most provoking way as
+though he were bored by a visit to a strange house and going home, and
+Yva gliding forward with a smile upon her face that was half mystic and
+half mischievous. We passed the remains of the machines, and Bickley
+asked her what they were.
+
+“Carriages in which once we travelled through the skies, until we found
+a better way, and that the uninstructed used till the end,” she
+answered carelessly, leaving me wondering what on earth she meant.
+
+We came to the statue and the sepulchre beneath without trouble, for
+the glint of her hair, and I may add of Tommy’s back, were quite
+sufficient to guide us through the gloom. The crystal coffins were
+still there, for Bastin flashed his torch and we saw them, but the
+boxes of radium had gone.
+
+“Let that light die,” she said to Bastin. “Humphrey, give me your right
+hand and give your left to Bickley. Let Bastin cling to him and fear
+nothing.”
+
+We passed to the end of the tomb and stood against what appeared to be
+a rock wall, all close together, as she directed.
+
+“Fear nothing,” she said again, but next second I was never more full
+of fear in my life, for we were whirling downwards at a speed that
+would have made an American elevator attendant turn pale.
+
+“Don’t choke me,” I heard Bickley say to Bastin, and the latter’s
+murmured reply of:
+
+“I never could bear these moving staircases and tubelifts. They always
+make me feel sick.”
+
+I admit that for my part I also felt rather sick and clung tightly to
+the hand of the Glittering Lady. She, however, placed her other hand
+upon my shoulder, saying in a low voice:
+
+“Did I not tell you to have no fear?”
+
+Then I felt comforted, for somehow I knew that it was not her desire to
+harm and much less to destroy me. Also Tommy was seated quite at his
+ease with his head resting against my leg, and his absence of alarm was
+reassuring. The only stoic of the party was Bickley. I have no doubt
+that he was quite as frightened as we were, but rather than show it he
+would have died.
+
+“I presume this machinery is pneumatic,” he began when suddenly and
+without shock, we arrived at the end of our journey. How far we had
+fallen I am sure I do not know, but I should judge from the awful speed
+at which we travelled, that it must have been several thousand feet,
+probably four or five.
+
+“Everything seems steady now,” remarked Bastin, “so I suppose this
+luggage lift has stopped. The odd thing is that I can’t see anything of
+it. There ought to be a shaft, but we seem to be standing on a level
+floor.”
+
+“The odd thing is,” said Bickley, “that we can see at all. Where the
+devil does the light come from thousands of feet underground?”
+
+“I don’t know,” answered Bastin, “unless there is natural gas here, as
+I am told there is at a town called Medicine Hat in Canada.”
+
+“Natural gas be blowed,” said Bickley. “It is more like moonlight
+magnified ten times.”
+
+So it was. The whole place was filled with a soft radiance, equal to
+that of the sun at noon, but gentler and without heat.
+
+“Where does it come from?” I whispered to Yva.
+
+“Oh!” she replied, as I thought evasively. “It is the light of the
+Under-world which we know how to use. The earth is full of light, which
+is not wonderful, is it, seeing that its heart is fire? Now look about
+you.”
+
+I looked and leant on her harder than ever, since amazement made me
+weak. We were in some vast place whereof the roof seemed almost as far
+off as the sky at night. At least all that I could make out was a dim
+and distant arch which might have been one of cloud. For the rest, in
+every direction stretched vastness, illuminated far as the eye could
+reach by the soft light of which I have spoken, that is, probably for
+several miles. But this vastness was not empty. On the contrary it was
+occupied by a great city. There were streets much wider than
+Piccadilly, all bordered by houses, though these, I observed, were
+roofless, very fine houses, some of them, built of white stone or
+marble. There were roadways and pavements worn by the passage of feet.
+There, farther on, were market-places or public squares, and there,
+lastly, was a huge central enclosure one or two hundred acres in
+extent, which was filled with majestic buildings that looked like
+palaces, or town-halls; and, in the midst of them all, a vast temple
+with courts and a central dome. For here, notwithstanding the lack of
+necessity, its builders seemed to have adhered to the Over-world
+tradition, and had roofed their fane.
+
+And now came the terror. All of this enormous city was _dead_. Had it
+stood upon the moon it could not have been more dead. None paced its
+streets; none looked from its window-places. None trafficked in its
+markets, none worshipped in its temple. Swept, garnished, lighted,
+practically untouched by the hand of Time, here where no rains fell and
+no winds blew, it was yet a howling wilderness. For what wilderness is
+there to equal that which once has been the busy haunt of men? Let
+those who have stood among the buried cities of Central Asia, or of
+Anarajapura in Ceylon, or even amid the ruins of Salamis on the coast
+of Cyprus, answer the question. But here was something infinitely more
+awful. A huge human haunt in the bowels of the earth utterly devoid of
+human beings, and yet as perfect as on the day when these ceased to be.
+
+“I do not care for underground localities,” remarked Bastin, his gruff
+voice echoing strangely in that terrible silence, “but it does seem a
+pity that all these fine buildings should be wasted. I suppose their
+inhabitants left them in search of fresh air.”
+
+“Why did they leave them?” I asked of Yva.
+
+“Because death took them,” she answered solemnly. “Even those who live
+a thousand years die at last, and if they have no children, with them
+dies the race.”
+
+“Then were you the last of your people?” I asked.
+
+“Inquire of my father,” she replied, and led the way through the
+massive arch of a great building.
+
+It led into a walled courtyard in the centre of which was a plain
+cupola of marble with a gate of some pale metal that looked like
+platinum mixed with gold. This gate stood open. Within it was the
+statue of a woman beautifully executed in white marble and set in a
+niche of some black stone. The figure was draped as though to conceal
+the shape, and the face was stern and majestic rather than beautiful.
+The eyes of the statue were cunningly made of some enamel which gave
+them a strange and lifelike appearance. They stared upwards as though
+looking away from the earth and its concerns. The arms were
+outstretched. In the right hand was a cup of black marble, in the left
+a similar cup of white marble. From each of these cups trickled a thin
+stream of sparkling water, which two streams met and mingled at a
+distance of about three feet beneath the cups. Then they fell into a
+metal basin which, although it must have been quite a foot thick, was
+cut right through by their constant impact, and apparently vanished
+down some pipe beneath. Out of this metal basin Tommy, who gambolled
+into the place ahead of us, began to drink in a greedy and
+demonstrative fashion.
+
+“The Life-water?” I said, looking at our guide.
+
+She nodded and asked in her turn:
+
+“What is the statue and what does it signify, Humphrey?”
+
+I hesitated, but Bastin answered:
+
+“Just a rather ugly woman who hid up her figure because it was bad.
+Probably she was a relation of the artist who wished to have her
+likeness done and sat for nothing.”
+
+“The goddess of Health,” suggested Bickley. “Her proportions are
+perfect; a robust, a thoroughly normal woman.”
+
+“Now, Humphrey,” said Yva.
+
+I stared at the work and had not an idea. Then it flashed on me with
+such suddenness and certainty that I am convinced the answer to the
+riddle was passed to me from her and did not originate in my own mind.
+
+“It seems quite easy,” I said in a superior tone. “The figure
+symbolises Life and is draped because we only see the face of Life, the
+rest is hidden. The arms are bare because Life is real and active. One
+cup is black and one is white because Life brings both good and evil
+gifts; that is why the streams mingle, to be lost beneath in the
+darkness of death. The features are stern and even terrifying rather
+than lovely, because such is the aspect of Life. The eyes look upward
+and far away from present things, because the real life is not here.”
+
+“Of course one may say anything,” said Bastin, “but I don’t understand
+all that.”
+
+“Imagination goes a long way,” broke in Bickley, who was vexed that he
+had not thought of this interpretation himself. But Yva said:
+
+“I begin to think that you are quite clever, Humphrey. I wonder whence
+the truth came to you, for such is the meaning of the figure and the
+cups. Had I told it to you myself, it could not have been better said,”
+and she glanced at me out of the corners of her eyes. “Now, Strangers,
+will you drink? Once that gate was guarded, and only at a great price
+or as a great reward were certain of the Highest Blood given the
+freedom of this fountain which might touch no common lips. Indeed it
+was one of the causes of our last war, for all the world which was,
+desired this water which now is lapped by a stranger’s hound.”
+
+“I suppose there is nothing medicinal in it?” said Bastin. “Once when I
+was very thirsty, I made a mistake and drank three tumblers of
+something of the sort in the dark, thinking that it was Apollinaris,
+and I don’t want to do it again.”
+
+“Just the sort of thing you would do,” said Bickley. “But, Lady Yva,
+what are the properties of this water?”
+
+“It is very health-giving,” she answered, “and if drunk continually,
+not less than once each thirty days, it wards off sickness, lessens
+hunger and postpones death for many, many years. That is why those of
+the High Blood endured so long and became the rulers of the world, and
+that, as I have said, is the greatest of the reasons why the peoples
+who dwelt in the ancient outer countries and never wished to die, made
+war upon them, to win this secret fountain. Have no fear, O Bastin, for
+see, I will pledge you in this water.”
+
+Then she lifted a strange-looking, shallow, metal cup whereof the
+handles were formed of twisted serpents, that lay in the basin, filled
+it from the trickling stream, bowed to us and drank. But as she drank I
+noted with a thrill of joy that her eyes were fixed on mine as though
+it were me she pledged and me alone. Again she filled the cup with the
+sparkling water, for it did sparkle, like that French liqueur in which
+are mingled little flakes of gold, and handed it to me.
+
+I bowed to her and drank. I suppose the fluid was water, but to me it
+tasted more like strong champagne, dashed with Château Yquem. It was
+delicious. More, its effects were distinctly peculiar. Something quick
+and subtle ran through my veins; something that for a few moments
+seemed to burn away the obscureness which blurs our thought. I began to
+understand several problems that had puzzled me, and then lost their
+explanations in the midst of light, inner light, I mean. Moreover, of a
+sudden it seemed to me as though a window had been opened in the heart
+of that Glittering Lady who stood beside me. At least I knew that it
+was full of wonderful knowledge, wonderful memories and wonderful
+hopes, and that in the latter two of these I had some part; what part I
+could not tell. Also I knew that my heart was open to her and that she
+saw in it something which caused her to marvel and to sigh.
+
+In a few seconds, thirty perhaps, all this was gone. Nothing remained
+except that I felt extremely strong and well, happier, too, than I had
+been for years. Mutely I asked her for more of the water, but she shook
+her head and, taking the cup from me, filled it again and gave it to
+Bickley, who drank. He flushed, seemed to lose the self-control which
+was his very strong characteristic, and said in a rather thick voice:
+
+“Curious! but I do not think at this moment there is any operation that
+has ever been attempted which I could not tackle single-handed and with
+success.”
+
+Then he was silent, and Bastin’s turn came. He drank rather noisily,
+after his fashion, and began:
+
+“My dear young lady, I think the time has come when I should expound to
+you—” Here he broke off and commenced singing very badly, for his voice
+was somewhat raucous:
+
+From Greenland’s icy mountains,
+From India’s coral strand,
+Where Afric’s sunny fountains
+Roll down their golden sand.
+
+
+Ceasing from melody, he added:
+
+“I determined that I would drink nothing intoxicating while I was on
+this island that I might be a shining light in a dark place, and now I
+fear that quite unwittingly I have broken what I look upon as a
+promise.”
+
+Then he, too, grew silent.
+
+“Come,” said Yva, “my father, the Lord Oro, awaits you.”
+
+We crossed the court of the Water of Life and mounted steps that led to
+a wide and impressive portico, Tommy frisking ahead of us in a most
+excited way for a dog of his experience. Evidently the water had
+produced its effect upon him as well as upon his masters. This portico
+was in a solemn style of architecture which I cannot describe, because
+it differed from any other that I know. It was not Egyptian and not
+Greek, although its solidity reminded me of the former, and the beauty
+and grace of some of the columns, of the latter. The profuseness and
+rather grotesque character of the carvings suggested the ruins of
+Mexico and Yucatan, and the enormous size of the blocks of stone, those
+of Peru and Baalbec. In short, all the known forms of ancient
+architecture might have found their inspiration here, and the general
+effect was tremendous.
+
+“The palace of the King,” said Yva, “whereof we approach the great
+hall.”
+
+We entered through mighty metal doors, one of which stood ajar, into a
+vestibule which from certain indications I gathered had once been a
+guard, or perhaps an assembly-room. It was about forty feet deep by a
+hundred wide. Thence she led us through a smaller door into the hall
+itself. It was a vast place without columns, for there was no roof to
+support. The walls of marble or limestone were sculptured like those of
+Egyptian temples, apparently with battle scenes, though of this I am
+not sure for I did not go near to them. Except for a broad avenue along
+the middle, up which we walked, the area was filled with marble benches
+that would, I presume, have accommodated several thousand people. But
+they were empty—empty, and oh! the loneliness of it all.
+
+Far away at the head of the hall was a dais enclosed, and, as it were,
+roofed in by a towering structure that mingled grace and majesty to a
+wonderful degree. It was modelled on the pattern of a huge shell. The
+base of the shell was the platform; behind were the ribs, and above,
+the overhanging lip of the shell. On this platform was a throne of
+silvery metal. It was supported on the arched coils of snakes, whereof
+the tails formed the back and the heads the arms of the throne.
+
+On this throne, arrayed in gorgeous robes, sat the Lord Oro, his white
+beard flowing over them, and a jewelled cap upon his head. In front of
+him was a low table on which lay graven sheets of metal, and among them
+a large ball of crystal.
+
+There he sat, solemn and silent in the midst of this awful solitude,
+looking in very truth like a god, as we conceive such a being to
+appear. Small as he was in that huge expanse of buildings, he seemed
+yet to dominate it, in a sense to fill the emptiness which was
+accentuated by his presence. I know that the sight of him filled me
+with true fear which it had never done in the light of day, not even
+when he arose from his crystal coffin. Now for the first time I felt as
+though I were really in the presence of a Being Supernatural. Doubtless
+the surroundings heightened this impression. What were these mighty
+edifices in the bowels of the world? Whence came this wondrous,
+all-pervading and translucent light, whereof we could see no origin?
+Whither had vanished those who had reared and inhabited them? How did
+it happen that of them all, this man, if he were a man; and this lovely
+woman at my side, who, if I might trust my senses and instincts, was
+certainly a woman, alone survived of their departed multitudes?
+
+The thing was crushing. I looked at Bickley for encouragement, but got
+none, for he only shook his head. Even Bastin, now that the first
+effects of the Life-water had departed, seemed overwhelmed, and
+muttered something about the halls of Hades.
+
+Only the little dog Tommy remained quite cheerful. He trotted down the
+hall, jumped on to the dais and sat himself comfortably at the feet of
+its occupant.
+
+“I greet you,” Oro said in his slow, resonant voice. “Daughter, lead
+these strangers to me; I would speak with them.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+Oro in His House
+
+
+We climbed on to the dais by some marble steps, and sat ourselves down
+in four curious chairs of metal that were more or less copied from that
+which served Oro as a throne; at least the arms ended in graven heads
+of snakes. These chairs were so comfortable that I concluded the seats
+were fixed on springs, also we noticed that they were beautifully
+polished.
+
+“I wonder how they keep everything so clean,” said Bastin as we mounted
+the dais. “In this big place it must take a lot of housemaids, though I
+don’t see any. But perhaps there is no dust here.”
+
+I shrugged my shoulders while we seated ourselves, the Lady Yva and I
+on Oro’s right, Bickley and Bastin on his left, as he indicated by
+pointing with his finger.
+
+“What say you of this city?” Oro asked after a while of me.
+
+“We do not know what to say,” I replied. “It amazes us. In our world
+there is nothing like to it.”
+
+“Perchance there will be in the future when the nations grow more
+skilled in the arts of war,” said Oro darkly.
+
+“Be pleased, Lord Oro,” I went on, “if it is your will, to tell us why
+the people who built this place chose to live in the bowels of the
+earth instead of upon its surface.”
+
+“They did not choose; it was forced upon them,” was the answer. “This
+is a city of refuge that they occupied in time of war, not because they
+hated the sun. In time of peace and before the Barbarians dared to
+attack them, they dwelt in the city Pani which signifies Above. You may
+have noted some of its remaining ruins on the mount and throughout the
+island. The rest of them are now beneath the sea. But when trouble came
+and the foe rained fire on them from the air, they retreated to this
+town, Nyo, which signifies Beneath.”
+
+“And then?”
+
+“And then they died. The Water of Life may prolong life, but it cannot
+make women bear children. That they will only do beneath the blue of
+heaven, not deep in the belly of the world where Nature never designed
+that they should dwell. How would the voices of children sound in such
+halls as these? Tell me, you, Bickley, who are a physician.”
+
+“I cannot. I cannot imagine children in such a place, and if born here
+they would die,” said Bickley.
+
+Oro nodded.
+
+“They did die, and if they went above to Pani they were murdered. So
+soon the habit of birth was lost and the Sons of Wisdom perished one by
+one. Yes, they who ruled the world and by tens of thousands of years of
+toil had gathered into their bosoms all the secrets of the world,
+perished, till only a few, and among them I and this daughter of mine,
+were left.”
+
+“And then?”
+
+“Then, Humphrey, having power so to do, I did what long I had
+threatened, and unchained the forces that work at the world’s heart,
+and destroyed them who were my enemies and evil, so that they perished
+by millions, and with them all their works. Afterwards we slept,
+leaving the others, our subjects who had not the secret of this Sleep,
+to die, as doubtless they did in the course of Nature or by the hand of
+the foe. The rest you know.”
+
+“Can such a thing happen again?” asked Bickley in a voice that did not
+hide his disbelief.
+
+“Why do you question me, Bickley, you who believe nothing of what I
+tell you, and therefore make wrath? Still I will say this, that what I
+caused to happen I can cause once more—only once, I think—as perchance
+you shall learn before all is done. Now, since you do not believe, I
+will tell you no more of our mysteries, no, not whence this light comes
+nor what are the properties of the Water of Life, both of which you
+long to know, nor how to preserve the vital spark of Being in the grave
+of dreamless sleep, like a live jewel in a casket of dead stone, nor
+aught else. As to these matters, Daughter, I bid you also to be silent,
+since Bickley mocks at us. Yes, with all this around him, he who saw us
+rise from the coffins, still mocks at us in his heart. Therefore let
+him, this little man of a little day, when his few years are done go to
+the tomb in ignorance, and his companions with him, they who might have
+been as wise as I am.”
+
+Thus Oro spoke in a voice of icy rage, his deep eyes glowing like
+coals. Hearing him I cursed Bickley in my heart for I was sure that
+once spoken, his decree was like to that of the Medes and Persians and
+could not be altered. Bickley, however, was not in the least dismayed.
+Indeed he argued the point. He told Oro straight out that he would not
+believe in the impossible until it had been shown to him to be
+possible, and that the law of Nature never had been and never could be
+violated. It was no answer, he said, to show him wonders without
+explaining their cause, since all that he seemed to see might be but
+mental illusions produced he knew not how.
+
+Oro listened patiently, then answered:
+
+“Good. So be it, they are illusions. I am an illusion; those savages
+who died upon the rock will tell you so. This fair woman before you is
+an illusion; Humphrey, I am sure, knows it as you will also before you
+have done with her. These halls are illusions. Live on in your
+illusions, O little man of science, who because you see the face of
+things, think that you know the body and the heart, and can read the
+soul at work within. You are a worthy child of tens of thousands of
+your breed who were before you and are now forgotten.”
+
+Bickley looked up to answer, then changed his mind and was silent,
+thinking further argument dangerous, and Oro went on:
+
+“Now I differ from you, Bickley, in this way. I who have more wisdom in
+my finger-point than you with all the physicians of your world added to
+you, have in your brains and bodies, yet desire to learn from those who
+can give me knowledge. I understand from your words to my daughter that
+you, Bastin, teach a faith that is new to me, and that this faith tells
+of life eternal for the children of earth. Is it so?”
+
+“It is,” said Bastin eagerly. “I will set out—”
+
+Oro cut him short with a wave of the hand.
+
+“Not now in the presence of Bickley who doubtless disbelieves your
+faith, as he does all else, holding it with justice or without, to be
+but another illusion. Yet you shall teach me and on it I will form my
+own judgment.”
+
+“I shall be delighted,” said Bastin. Then a doubt struck him, and he
+added: “But why do you wish to learn? Not that you may make a mock of
+my religion, is it?”
+
+“I mock at no man’s belief, because I think that what men believe is
+true—for them. I will tell you why I wish to hear of yours, since I
+never hide the truth. I who am so wise and old, yet must die; though
+that time may be far away, still I must die, for such is the lot of man
+born of woman. And I do not desire to die. Therefore I shall rejoice to
+learn of any faith that promises to the children of earth a life
+eternal beyond the earth. Tomorrow you shall begin to teach me. Now
+leave me, Strangers, for I have much to do,” and he waved his hand
+towards the table.
+
+We rose and bowed, wondering what he could have to do down in this
+luminous hole, he who had been for so many thousands of years out of
+touch with the world. It occurred to me, however, that during this long
+period he might have got in touch with other worlds, indeed he looked
+like it.
+
+“Wait,” he said, “I have something to tell you. I have been studying
+this book of writings, or world pictures,” and he pointed to my atlas
+which, as I now observed for the first time, was also lying upon the
+table. “It interests me much. Your country is small, very small. When I
+caused it to be raised up I think that it was larger, but since then
+that seas have flowed in.”
+
+Here Bickley groaned aloud.
+
+“This one is much greater,” went on Oro, casting a glance at Bickley
+that must have penetrated him like a searchlight. Then he opened the
+map of Europe and with his finger indicated Germany and
+Austria-Hungary. “I know nothing of the peoples of these lands,” he
+added, “but as you belong to one of them and are my guests, I trust
+that yours may succeed in the war.”
+
+“What war?” we asked with one voice.
+
+“Since Bickley is so clever, surely he should know better than an
+illusion such as I. All I can tell you is that I have learned that
+there is war between this country and that,” and he pointed to Great
+Britain and to Germany upon the map; “also between others.”
+
+“It is quite possible,” I said, remembering many things. “But how do
+you know?”
+
+“If I told you, Humphrey, Bickley would not believe, so I will not
+tell. Perhaps I saw it in that crystal, as did the necromancers of the
+early world. Or perhaps the crystal serves some different purpose and I
+saw it otherwise—with my soul. At least what I say is true.”
+
+“Then who will win?” asked Bastin.
+
+“I cannot read the future, Preacher. If I could, should I ask you to
+expound to me your religion which probably is of no more worth than a
+score of others I have studied, just because it tells of the future? If
+I could read the future I should be a god instead of only an
+earth-lord.”
+
+“Your daughter called you a god and you said that you knew we were
+coming to wake you up, which is reading the future,” answered Bastin.
+
+“Every father is a god to his daughter, or should be; also in my day
+millions named me a god because I saw further and struck harder than
+they could. As for the rest, it came to me in a vision. Oh! Bickley, if
+you were wiser than you think you are, you would know that all things
+to come are born elsewhere and travel hither like the light from stars.
+Sometimes they come faster before their day into a single mind, and
+that is what men call prophecy. But this is a gift which cannot be
+commanded, even by me. Also I did not know that you would come. I knew
+only that we should awaken and by the help of men, for if none had been
+present at that destined hour we must have died for lack of warmth and
+sustenance.”
+
+“I deny your hypothesis _in toto_,” exclaimed Bickley, but nobody paid
+any attention to him.
+
+“My father,” said Yva, rising and bowing before him with her swan-like
+grace, “I have noted your commands. But do you permit that I show the
+temple to these strangers, also something of our past?”
+
+“Yes, yes,” he said. “It will save much talk in a savage tongue that is
+difficult to me. But bring them here no more without my command, save
+Bastin only. When the sun is four hours high in the upper world, let
+him come tomorrow to teach me, and afterwards if so I desire. Or if he
+wills, he can sleep here.”
+
+“I think I would rather not,” said Bastin hurriedly. “I make no
+pretense to being particular, but this place does not appeal to me as a
+bedroom. There are degrees in the pleasures of solitude and, in short,
+I will not disturb your privacy at night.”
+
+Oro waved his hand and we departed down that awful and most dreary
+hall.
+
+“I hope you will spend a pleasant time here, Bastin,” I said, looking
+back from the doorway at its cold, illuminated vastness.
+
+“I don’t expect to,” he answered, “but duty is duty, and if I can drag
+that old sinner back from the pit that awaits him, it will be worth
+doing. Only I have my doubts about him. To me he seems to bear a strong
+family resemblance to Beelzebub, and he’s a bad companion week in and
+week out.”
+
+We went through the portico, Yva leading us, and passed the fountain of
+Life-water, of which she cautioned us to drink no more at present, and
+to prevent him from doing so, dragged Tommy past it by his collar.
+Bickley, however, lingered under the pretence of making a further
+examination of the statue. As I had seen him emptying into his pocket
+the contents of a corked bottle of quinine tabloids which he always
+carried with him, I guessed very well that his object was to procure a
+sample of this water for future analysis. Of course I said nothing, and
+Yva and Bastin took no note of what he was doing.
+
+When we were clear of the palace, of which we had only seen one hall,
+we walked across an open space made unutterably dreary by the absence
+of any vegetation or other sign of life, towards a huge building of
+glorious proportions that was constructed of black stone or marble. It
+is impossible for me to give any idea of the frightful solemnity of
+this domed edifice, for as I think I have said, it alone had a roof,
+standing there in the midst of that brilliant, unvarying and most
+unnatural illumination which came from nowhere and yet was everywhere.
+Thus, when one lifted a foot, there it was between the sole of the boot
+and the floor, or to express it better, the boot threw no shadow. I
+think this absence of shadows was perhaps the most terrifying
+circumstance connected with that universal and pervading light. Through
+it we walked on to the temple. We passed three courts, pillared all of
+them, and came to the building which was larger than St. Paul’s in
+London. We entered through huge doors which still stood open, and
+presently found ourselves beneath the towering dome. There were no
+windows, why should there be in a place that was full of light? There
+was no ornamentation, there was nothing except black walls. And yet the
+general effect was magnificent in its majestic grace.
+
+“In this place,” said Yva, and her sweet voice went whispering round
+the walls and the arching dome, “were buried the Kings of the Sons of
+Wisdom. They lie beneath, each in his sepulchre. Its entrance is
+yonder,” and she pointed to what seemed to be a chapel on the right.
+“Would you wish to see them?”
+
+“Somehow I don’t care to,” said Bastin. “The place is dreary enough as
+it is without the company of a lot of dead kings.”
+
+“I should like to dissect one of them, but I suppose that would not be
+allowed,” said Bickley.
+
+“No,” she answered. “I think that the Lord Oro would not wish you to
+cut up his forefathers.”
+
+“When you and he went to sleep, why did you not choose the family
+vault?” asked Bastin.
+
+“Would you have found us there?” she queried by way of answer. Then,
+understanding that the invitation was refused by general consent,
+though personally I should have liked to accept it, and have never
+ceased regretting that I did not, she moved towards a colossal object
+which stood beneath the centre of the dome.
+
+On a stepped base, not very different from that in the cave but much
+larger, sat a figure, draped in a cloak on which was graved a number of
+stars, doubtless to symbolise the heavens. The fastening of the cloak
+was shaped like the crescent moon, and the foot-stool on which rested
+the figure’s feet was fashioned to suggest the orb of the sun. This was
+of gold or some such metal, the only spot of brightness in all that
+temple. It was impossible to say whether the figure were male or
+female, for the cloak falling in long, straight folds hid its outlines.
+Nor did the head tell us, for the hair also was hidden beneath the
+mantle and the face might have been that of either man or woman. It was
+terrible in its solemnity and calm, and its expression was as remote
+and mystic as that of Buddha, only more stern. Also without doubt it
+was blind; it was impossible to mistake the sightlessness of those
+staring orbs. Across the knees lay a naked sword and beneath the cloak
+the arms were hidden. In its complete simplicity the thing was
+marvelous.
+
+On either side upon the pedestal knelt a figure of the size of life.
+One was an old and withered man with death stamped upon his face; the
+other was a beautiful, naked woman, her hands clasped in the attitude
+of prayer and with vague terror written on her vivid features.
+
+Such was this glorious group of which the meaning could not be
+mistaken. It was Fate throned upon the sun, wearing the constellations
+as his garment, armed with the sword of Destiny and worshipped by Life
+and Death. This interpretation I set out to the others.
+
+Yva knelt before the statue for a little while, bowing her head in
+prayer, and really I felt inclined to follow her example, though in the
+end I compromised, as did Bickley, by taking off my hat, which, like
+the others, I still wore from force of habit, though in this place none
+were needed. Only Bastin remained covered.
+
+“Behold the god of my people,” said Yva. “Have you no reverence for it,
+O Bastin?”
+
+“Not much,” he answered, “except as a work of art. You see I worship
+Fate’s Master. I might add that _your_ god doesn’t seem to have done
+much for you, Lady Yva, as out of all your greatness there’s nothing
+left but two people and a lot of old walls and caves.”
+
+At first she was inclined to be angry, for I saw her start. Then her
+mood changed, and she said with a sigh:
+
+“Fate’s Master! Where does He dwell?”
+
+“Here amongst other places,” said Bastin. “I’ll soon explain that to
+you.”
+
+“I thank you,” she replied gravely. “But why have you not explained it
+to Bickley?” Then waving her hand to show that she wished for no
+answer, she went on:
+
+“Friends, would you wish to learn something of the history of my
+people?”
+
+“Very much,” said the irrepressible Bastin, “but I would rather the
+lecture took place in the open air.”
+
+“That is not possible,” she answered. “It must be here and now, or not
+at all. Come, stand by me. Be silent and do not move. I am about to set
+loose forces that are dangerous if disturbed.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+Visions of the Past
+
+
+She led us to the back of the statue and pointed to each of us where we
+should remain. Then she took her place at right angles to us, as a
+showman might do, and for a while stood immovable. Watching her face,
+once more I saw it, and indeed all her body, informed with that strange
+air of power, and noted that her eyes flashed and that her hair grew
+even more brilliant than was common, as though some abnormal strength
+were flowing through it and her. Presently she spoke, saying:
+
+“I shall show you first our people in the day of their glory. Look in
+front of you.”
+
+We looked and by degrees the vast space of the apse before us became
+alive with forms. At first these were vague and shadowy, not to be
+separated or distinguished. Then they became so real that until he was
+reproved by a kick, Tommy growled at them and threatened to break out
+into one of his peals of barking.
+
+A wonderful scene appeared. There was a palace of white marble and in
+front of it a great courtyard upon which the sun beat vividly. At the
+foot of the steps of the palace, beneath a silken awning, sat a king
+enthroned, a crown upon his head and wearing glorious robes. In his
+hand was a jewelled sceptre. He was a noble-looking man of middle age
+and about him were gathered the glittering officers of his court. Fair
+women fanned him and to right and left, but a little behind, sat other
+fair and jewelled women who, I suppose, were his wives or daughters.
+
+“One of the Kings of the Children of Wisdom new-crowned, receives the
+homage of the world,” said Yva.
+
+As she spoke there appeared, walking in front of the throne one by one,
+other kings, for all were crowned and bore sceptres. At the foot of the
+throne each of them kneeled and kissed the foot of him who sat thereon,
+as he did so laying down his sceptre which at a sign he lifted again
+and passed away. Of these kings there must have been quite fifty, men
+of all colours and of various types, white men, black men, yellow men,
+red men.
+
+Then came their ministers bearing gifts, apparently of gold and jewels,
+which were piled on trays in front of the throne. I remember noting an
+incident. An old fellow with a lame leg stumbled and upset his tray, so
+that the contents rolled hither and thither. His attempts to recover
+them were ludicrous and caused the monarch on the throne to relax from
+his dignity and smile. I mention this to show that what we witnessed
+was no set scene but apparently a living piece of the past. Had it been
+so the absurdity of the bedizened old man tumbling down in the midst of
+the gorgeous pageant would certainly have been omitted.
+
+No, it must be life, real life, something that had happened, and the
+same may be said of what followed. For instance, there was what we call
+a review. Infantry marched, some of them armed with swords and spears,
+though these I took to be an ornamental bodyguard, and others with
+tubes like savage blowpipes of which I could not guess the use. There
+were no cannon, but carriages came by loaded with bags that had spouts
+to them. Probably these were charged with poisonous gases. There were
+some cavalry also, mounted on a different stamp of horse from ours,
+thicker set and nearer the ground, but with arched necks and fiery eyes
+and, I should say, very strong. These again, I take it, were
+ornamental. Then came other men upon a long machine, slung in pairs in
+armoured sacks, out of which only their heads and arms projected. This
+machine, which resembled an elongated bicycle, went by at a tremendous
+rate, though whence its motive power came did not appear. It carried
+twenty pairs of men, each of whom held in his hand some small but
+doubtless deadly weapon, that in appearance resembled an orange. Other
+similar machines which followed carried from forty to a hundred pairs
+of men.
+
+The marvel of the piece, however, were the aircraft. These came by in
+great numbers. Sometimes they flew in flocks like wild geese, sometimes
+singly, sometimes in line and sometimes in ordered squadrons, with
+outpost and officer ships and an exact distance kept between craft and
+craft. None of them seemed to be very large or to carry more than four
+or five men, but they were extraordinarily swift and as agile as
+swallows. Moreover they flew as birds do by beating their wings, but
+again we could not guess whence came their motive power.
+
+The review vanished, and next appeared a scene of festivity in a huge,
+illuminated hall. The Great King sat upon a dais and behind him was
+that statue of Fate, or one very similar to it, beneath which we stood.
+Below him in the hall were the feasters seated at long tables, clad in
+the various costumes of their countries. He rose and, turning, knelt
+before the statue of Fate. Indeed he prostrated himself thrice in
+prayer. Then taking his seat again, he lifted a cup of wine and pledged
+that vast company. They drank back to him and prostrated themselves
+before him as he had done before the image of Fate. Only I noted that
+certain men clad in sacerdotal garments not at all unlike those which
+are worn in the Greek Church to-day, remained standing.
+
+Now all this exhibition of terrestrial pomp faded. The next scene was
+simple, that of the death-bed of this same king—we knew him by his
+wizened features. There he lay, terribly old and dying. Physicians,
+women, courtiers, all were there watching the end. The tableau vanished
+and in place of it appeared that of the youthful successor amidst
+cheering crowds, with joy breaking through the clouds of simulated
+grief upon his face. It vanished also.
+
+“Thus did great king succeed great king for ages upon ages,” said Yva.
+“There were eighty of them and the average of their reigns was 700
+years. They ruled the earth as it was in those days. They gathered up
+learning, they wielded power, their wealth was boundless. They nurtured
+the arts, they discovered secrets. They had intercourse with the stars;
+they were as gods. But like the gods they grew jealous. They and their
+councillors became a race apart who alone had the secret of long life.
+The rest of the world and the commonplace people about them suffered
+and died. They of the Household of Wisdom lived on in pomp for
+generations till the earth was mad with envy of them.
+
+“Fewer and fewer grew the divine race of the Sons of Wisdom since
+children are not given to the aged and to those of an ancient, outworn
+blood. Then the World said:
+
+“‘They are great but they are not many; let us make an end of them by
+numbers and take their place and power and drink of their Life-water,
+that they will not give to us. If myriads of us perish by their arts,
+what does it matter, since we are countless?’ So the World made war
+upon the Sons of Wisdom. See!”
+
+Again a picture formed. The sky was full of aircraft which rained down
+fire like flashes of lightning upon cities beneath. From these cities
+leapt up other fires that destroyed the swift-travelling things above,
+so that they fell in numbers like gnats burned by a lamp. Still more
+and more of them came till the cities crumbled away and the flashes
+that darted from them ceased to rush upwards. The Sons of Wisdom were
+driven from the face of the earth.
+
+Again the scene changed. Now it showed this subterranean hall in which
+we stood. There was pomp here, yet it was but a shadow of that which
+had been in the earlier days upon the face of the earth. Courtiers
+moved about the palace and there were people in the radiant streets and
+the houses, for most of them were occupied, but rarely did the vision
+show children coming through their gates.
+
+Of a sudden this scene shifted. Now we saw that same hall in which we
+had visited Oro not an hour before. There he sat, yes, Oro himself,
+upon the dais beneath the overhanging marble shell. Round him were some
+ancient councillors. In the body of the hall on either side of the dais
+were men in military array, guards without doubt though their only
+weapon was a black rod not unlike a ruler, if indeed it were a weapon
+and not a badge of office.
+
+Yva, whose face had suddenly grown strange and fixed, began to detail
+to us what was passing in this scene, in a curious monotone such as a
+person might use who was repeating something learned by heart. This was
+the substance of what she said:
+
+“The case of the Sons of Wisdom is desperate. But few of them are left.
+Like other men they need food which is hard to come by, since the foe
+holds the upper earth and that which their doctors can make here in the
+Shades does not satisfy them, even though they drink the Life-water.
+They die and die. There comes an embassy from the High King of the
+confederated Nations to talk of terms of peace. See, it enters.”
+
+As she spoke, up the hall advanced the embassy. At the head of it
+walked a young man, tall, dark, handsome and commanding, whose aspect
+seemed in some way to be familiar to me. He was richly clothed in a
+purple cloak and wore upon his head a golden circlet that suggested
+royal rank. Those who followed him were mostly old men who had the
+astute faces of diplomatists, but a few seemed to be generals. Yva
+continued in her monotonous voice:
+
+“Comes the son of the King of the confederated Nations, the Prince who
+will be king. He bows before the Lord Oro. He says ‘Great and Ancient
+Monarch of the divine blood, Heaven-born One, your strait, and that of
+those who remain to you, is sore. Yet on behalf of the Nations I am
+sent to offer terms of peace, but this I may only do in the presence of
+your child who is your heiress and the Queen-to-be of the Sons of
+Wisdom.’”
+
+Here, in the picture, Oro waved his hand and from behind the marble
+shell appeared Yva herself, gloriously apparelled, wearing royal
+ornaments and with her train held by waiting ladies. She bowed to the
+Prince and his company and they bowed back to her. More, we saw a
+glance of recognition pass between her and the Prince.
+
+Now the real Yva by our side pointed to the shadow Yva of the vision or
+the picture, whichever it might be called, a strange thing to see her
+do, and went on:
+
+“The daughter of the Lord Oro comes. The Prince of the Nations salutes
+her. He says that the great war has endured for hundreds of years
+between the Children of Wisdom fighting for absolute rule and the
+common people of the earth fighting for liberty. In that war many
+millions of the Sons of the Nations had perished, brought to their
+death by fearful arts, by wizardries and by plagues sown among them by
+the Sons of Wisdom. Yet they were winning, for the glorious cities of
+the Sons of Wisdom were destroyed and those who remained of them were
+driven to dwell in the caves of the earth where with all their strength
+and magic they could not increase, but faded like flowers in the dark.
+
+“The Lord Oro asks what are the terms of peace proposed by the Nations.
+The Prince answers that they are these: That the Sons of Wisdom shall
+teach all their wisdom to the wise men among the Nations. That they
+shall give them to drink of the Life-water, so that their length of
+days also may be increased. That they shall cease to destroy them by
+sickness and their mastery of the forces which are hid in the womb of
+the world. If they will do these things, then the Nations on their part
+will cease from war, will rebuild the cities they have destroyed by
+means of their flying ships that rain down death, and will agree that
+the Lord Oro and his seed shall rule them for ever as the King of
+kings.
+
+“The Lord Oro asks if that be all. The Prince answers that it is not
+all. He says that when he dwelt a hostage at the court of the Sons of
+Wisdom he and the divine Lady, the daughter of the Lord Oro, and his
+only living child, learned to love each other. He demands, and the
+Nations demand, that she shall be given to him to wife, that in a day
+to come he may rule with her and their children after them.
+
+“See!” went on Yva in her chanting, dreamy voice, “the Lord Oro asks
+his daughter if this be true. She says,” here the real Yva at my side
+turned and looked me straight in the eyes, “that it is true; that she
+loves the Prince of the Nations and that if she lives a million years
+she will wed no other man, since she who is her father’s slave in all
+else is still the mistress of herself, as has ever been the right of
+her royal mothers.
+
+“See again! The Lord Oro, the divine King, the Ancient, grows wroth. He
+says that it is enough and more than enough that the Barbarians should
+ask to eat of the bread of hidden learning and to drink of the
+Life-water of the Sons of Wisdom, gifts that were given to them of old
+by Heaven whence they sprang in the beginning. But that one of them,
+however highly placed, should dare to ask to mix his blood with that of
+the divine Lady, the Heiress, the Queen of the Earth to be, and claim
+to share her imperial throne that had been held by her pure race from
+age to age, was an insult that could only be purged by death. Sooner
+would he give his daughter in marriage to an ape than to a child of the
+Barbarians who had worked on them so many woes and striven to break the
+golden fetters of their rule.
+
+“Look again!” continued Yva. “The Lord Oro, the divine, grows angrier
+still” (which in truth he did, for never did I see such dreadful rage
+as that which the picture revealed in him). “He warns, he threatens. He
+says that hitherto out of gentle love and pity he has held his hand;
+that he has strength at his command which will slay them, not by
+millions in slow war, but by tens of millions at one blow; that will
+blot them and their peoples from the face of earth and that will cause
+the deep seas to roll where now their pleasant lands are fruitful in
+the sun. They shrink before his fury; behold, their knees tremble
+because they know that he has this power. He mocks them, does the Lord
+Oro. He asks for their submission here and now, and that in the name of
+the Nations they should take the great oath which may not be broken,
+swearing to cease from war upon the Sons of Wisdom and to obey them in
+all things to the ends of the earth. Some of the ambassadors would
+yield. They look about them like wild things that are trapped. But
+madness takes the Prince. He cries that the oath of an ape is of no
+account, but that he will tear up the Children of Wisdom as an ape
+tears leaves, and afterwards take the divine Lady to be his wife.
+
+“Look on the Lord Oro!” continued the living Yva, “his wrath leaves
+him. He grows cold and smiles. His daughter throws herself upon her
+knees and pleads with him. He thrusts her away. She would spring to the
+side of the Prince; he commands his councillors to hold her. She cries
+to the Prince that she loves him and him only, and that in a day to
+come him she will wed and no other. He thanks her, saying that as it is
+with her, so it is with him, and that because of his love he fears
+nothing. She swoons. The Lord Oro motions with his hand to the guard.
+They lift their death-rods. Fire leaps from them. The Prince and his
+companions, all save those who were afraid and would have sworn the
+oath, twist and writhe. They turn black; they die. The Lord Oro
+commands those who are left to enter their flying ships and bear to the
+Nations of the Earth tidings of what befalls those who dare to defy and
+insult him; to warn them also to eat and drink and be merry while they
+may, since for their wickedness they are about to perish.”
+
+The scene faded and there followed another which really I cannot
+describe. It represented some vast underground place and what appeared
+to be a huge mountain of iron clothed in light, literally a thing like
+an alp, rocking and spinning down a declivity, which farther on
+separated into two branches because of a huge razor-edge precipice that
+rose between. There in the middle of this vast space with the dazzling
+mountain whirling towards him, stood Oro encased in some transparent
+armour, as though to keep off heat, and with him his daughter who under
+his direction was handling something in the rock behind her. Then there
+was a blinding flash and everything vanished. All of this picture
+passed so swiftly that we could not grasp its details; only a general
+impression remained.
+
+“The Lord Oro, using the strength that is in the world whereof he alone
+has the secret, changes the world’s balance causing that which was land
+to become sea and that which was sea to become land,” said Yva in her
+chanting, unnatural voice.
+
+Another scene of stupendous and changing awfulness. Countries were
+sinking, cities crashing down, volcanoes were spouting fire; the end of
+the earth seemed to be at hand. We could see human beings running to
+and fro in thousands like ants. Then in huge waves hundreds and
+hundreds of feet high, the ocean flowed in and all was troubled, yeasty
+sea.
+
+“Oro carries out his threat to destroy the Nations who had rebelled
+against him,” said Yva. “Much of the world sinks beneath the waves, but
+in place of it other lands arise above the waves, to be inhabited by
+the seed of those who remain living in those portions of the Earth that
+the deluge spared.”
+
+This horrible vision passed and was succeeded by one more, that of Oro
+standing in the sepulchre of the cave by the side of the crystal coffin
+which contained what appeared to be the body of his daughter. He gazed
+at her, then drank some potion and laid himself down in the companion
+coffin, that in which we had found him.
+
+All vanished away and Yva, appearing to wake from some kind of trance,
+smiled, and in her natural voice asked if we had seen enough.
+
+“Quite,” I answered in a tone that caused her to say:
+
+“I wonder what you have seen, Humphrey. Myself I do not know, since it
+is through me that you see at all and when you see I am in you who
+see.”
+
+“Indeed,” I replied. “Well, I will tell you about it later.”
+
+“Thank you so much,” exclaimed Bastin, recovering suddenly from his
+amazement. “I have heard a great deal of these moving-picture shows
+which are becoming so popular, but have always avoided attending them
+because their influence on the young is supposed to be doubtful, and a
+priest must set a good example to his congregation. Now I see that they
+can have a distinct educational value, even if it is presented in the
+form of romance.”
+
+“How is it done?” asked Bickley, almost fiercely.
+
+“I do not altogether know,” she answered. “This I do know, however,
+that everything which has happened on this world can be seen from
+moment to moment at some point in the depths of space, for thither the
+sun’s light takes it. There, too, it can be caught and thence in an
+instant returned to earth again, to be reflected in the mirror of the
+present by those who know how that mirror should be held. Ask me no
+more; one so wise as you, O Bickley, can solve such problems for
+himself.”
+
+“If you don’t mind, Lady Yva,” said Bastin, “I think I should like to
+get out of this place, interesting as it is. I have food to cook up
+above and lots of things to attend to, especially as I understand I am
+to come back here tomorrow. Would you mind showing me the way to that
+lift or moving staircase?”
+
+“Come,” she said, smiling.
+
+So we went past the image of Fate, out of the temple, down the vast and
+lonely streets so unnaturally illuminated, to the place where we had
+first found ourselves on arrival in the depths. There we stood.
+
+A moment later and we were whirling up as we had whirled down. I
+suppose that Yva came with us though I never saw her do so, and the odd
+thing was that when we arrived in the sepulchre, she seemed already to
+be standing there waiting to direct us.
+
+“Really,” remarked Bastin, “this is exactly like Maskelyne and Cook.
+Did you ever see their performance, Bickley? If so, it must have given
+you lots to explain for quite a long while.”
+
+“Jugglery never appealed to me, whether in London or in Orofena,”
+replied Bickley in a sour voice as he extracted from his pocket an end
+of candle to which he set light.
+
+“What is jugglery?” asked Bastin, and they departed arguing, leaving me
+alone with Yva in the sepulchre.
+
+“What have I seen?” I asked her.
+
+“I do not know, Humphrey. Everyone sees different things, but perhaps
+something of the truth.”
+
+“I hope not, Yva, for amongst other things I seemed to see you swear
+yourself to a man for ever.”
+
+“Yes, and this I did. What of it?”
+
+“Only that it might be hard for another man.”
+
+“Yes, for another man it might be hard. You were once married, were you
+not, Humphrey, to a wife who died?”
+
+“Yes, I was married.”
+
+“And did you not swear to that wife that you would never look in love
+upon another woman?”
+
+“I did,” I answered in a shamed voice. “But how do you know? I never
+told you so.”
+
+“Oh! I know you and therefore guessed.”
+
+“Well, what of it, Yva?”
+
+“Nothing, except that you must find your wife before you love again,
+and before I love again I must find him whom I wish to be my husband.”
+
+“How can that happen,” I asked, “when both are dead?”
+
+“How did all that you have seen to-day in Nyo happen?” she replied,
+laughing softly. “Perhaps you are very blind, Humphrey, or perhaps we
+both are blind. If so, mayhap light will come to us. Meanwhile do not
+be sad. Tomorrow I will meet you and you shall teach me—your English
+tongue, Humphrey, and other things.”
+
+“Then let it be in the sunlight, Yva. I do not love those darksome
+halls of Nyo that glow like something dead.”
+
+“It is fitting, for are they not dead?” she answered, with a little
+laugh. “So be it. Bastin shall teach my father down below, since sun
+and shade are the same to him who only thinks of his religion, and you
+shall teach me up above.”
+
+“I am not so certain about Bastin and of what he thinks,” I said
+doubtfully. “Also will the Lord Oro permit you to come?”
+
+“Yes, for in such matters I rule myself. Also,” she added meaningly,
+“he remembers my oath that I will wed no man—save one who is dead. Now
+farewell a while and bid Bastin be here when the sun is three hours
+high, not before or after.”
+
+Then I left her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+Yva Explains
+
+
+When I reached the rock I was pleased to find Marama and about twenty
+of his people engaged in erecting the house that we had ordered them to
+build for our accommodation. Indeed, it was nearly finished, since
+house-building in Orofena is a simple business. The framework of poles
+let into palm trunks, since they could not be driven into the rock, had
+been put together on the further shore and towed over bodily by canoes.
+The overhanging rock formed one side of the house; the ends were of
+palm leaves tied to the poles, and the roof was of the same material.
+The other side was left open for the present, which in that equable and
+balmy clime was no disadvantage. The whole edifice was about thirty
+feet long by fifteen deep and divided into two portions, one for
+sleeping and one for living, by a palm leaf partition. Really, it was
+quite a comfortable abode, cool and rainproof, especially after Bastin
+had built his hut in which to cook.
+
+Marama and his people were very humble in their demeanour and implored
+us to visit them on the main island. I answered that perhaps we would
+later on, as we wished to procure certain things from the wreck. Also,
+he requested Bastin to continue his ministrations as the latter greatly
+desired to do. But to this proposal I would not allow him to give any
+direct answer at the moment. Indeed, I dared not do so until I was sure
+of Oro’s approval.
+
+Towards evening they departed in their canoes, leaving behind them the
+usual ample store of provisions.
+
+We cooked our meal as usual, only to discover that what Yva had said
+about the Life-water was quite true, since we had but little appetite
+for solid food, though this returned upon the following day. The same
+thing happened upon every occasion after drinking of that water which
+certainly was a most invigorating fluid. Never for years had any of us
+felt so well as it caused us to do.
+
+So we lit our pipes and talked about our experiences though of these,
+indeed, we scarcely knew what to say. Bastin accepted them as something
+out of the common, of course, but as facts which admitted of no
+discussion. After all, he said, the Old Testament told much the same
+story of people called the Sons of God who lived very long lives and
+ran after the daughters of men whom they should have left alone, and
+thus became the progenitors of a remarkable race. Of this race, he
+presumed that Oro and his daughter were survivors, especially as they
+spoke of their family as “Heaven born.” How they came to survive was
+more than he could understand and really scarcely worth bothering over,
+since there they were.
+
+It was the same about the Deluge, continued Bastin, although naturally
+Oro spoke falsely, or, at any rate, grossly exaggerated, when he
+declared that he had caused this catastrophe, unless indeed he was
+talking about a totally different deluge, though even then _he_ could
+not have brought it about. It was curious, however, that the people
+drowned were said to have been wicked, and Oro had the same opinion
+about those whom he claimed to have drowned, though for the matter of
+that, he could not conceive anyone more wicked than Oro himself. On his
+own showing he was a most revengeful person and one who declined to
+agree to a quite suitable alliance, apparently desired by both parties,
+merely because it offended his family pride. No, on reflection he might
+be unjust to Oro in this particular, since _he_ never told that story;
+it was only shown in some pictures which very likely were just made up
+to astonish us. Meanwhile, it was his business to preach to this old
+sinner down in that hole, and he confessed honestly that he did not
+like the job. Still, it must be done, so with our leave he would go
+apart and seek inspiration, which at present seemed to be quite
+lacking.
+
+Thus declaimed Bastin and departed.
+
+“Don’t you tell your opinion about the Deluge or he may cause another
+just to show that you are wrong,” called Bickley after him.
+
+“I can’t help that,” answered Bastin. “Certainly I shall not hide the
+truth to save Oro’s feelings, if he has got any. If he revenges himself
+upon us in any way, we must just put up with it like other martyrs.”
+
+“I haven’t the slightest ambition to be a martyr,” said Bickley.
+
+“No,” shouted Bastin from a little distance, “I am quite aware of that,
+as you have often said so before. Therefore, if you become one, I am
+sorry to say that I do not see how you can expect any benefit. You
+would only be like a man who puts a sovereign into the offertory bag in
+mistake for a shilling. The extra nineteen shillings will do him no
+good at all, since in his heart he regrets the error and wishes that he
+could have them back.”
+
+Then he departed, leaving me laughing. But Bickley did not laugh.
+
+“Arbuthnot,” he said, “I have come to the conclusion that I have gone
+quite mad. I beg you if I should show signs of homicidal mania, which I
+feel developing in me where Bastin is concerned, or of other abnormal
+violence, that you will take whatever steps you consider necessary,
+even to putting me out of the way if that is imperative.”
+
+“What do you mean?” I asked. “You seem sane enough.”
+
+“Sane, when I believe that I have seen and experienced a great number
+of things which I know it to be quite impossible that I should have
+seen or experienced. The only explanation is that I am suffering from
+delusions.”
+
+“Then is Bastin suffering from delusions, too?”
+
+“Certainly, but that is nothing new in his case.”
+
+“I don’t agree with you, Bickley—about Bastin, I mean. I am by no means
+certain that he is not the wisest of the three of us. He has a faith
+and he sticks to it, as millions have done before him, and that is
+better than making spiritual experiments, as I am sorry to say I do, or
+rejecting things because one cannot understand them, as you do, which
+is only a form of intellectual vanity.”
+
+“I won’t argue the matter, Arbuthnot; it is of no use. I repeat that I
+am mad, and Bastin is mad.”
+
+“How about me? I also saw and experienced these things. Am I mad, too?”
+
+“You ought to be, Arbuthnot. If it isn’t enough to drive a man mad when
+he sees himself exactly reproduced in an utterly impossible
+moving-picture show exhibited by an utterly impossible young woman in
+an utterly impossible underground city, then I don’t know what is.”
+
+“What do you mean?” I asked, starting.
+
+“Mean? Well, if you didn’t notice it, there’s hope for you.”
+
+“Notice what?”
+
+“All that envoy scene. There, as I thought, appeared Yva. Do you admit
+that?”
+
+“Of course; there could be no mistake on that point.”
+
+“Very well. Then according to my version there came a man, still young,
+dressed in outlandish clothes, who made propositions of peace and
+wanted to marry Yva, who wanted to marry him. Is that right?”
+
+“Absolutely.”
+
+“Well, and didn’t you recognise the man?”
+
+“No; I only noticed that he was a fine-looking fellow whose appearance
+reminded me of someone.”
+
+“I suppose it must be true,” mused Bickley, “that we do not know
+ourselves.”
+
+“So the old Greek thought, since he urged that this should be our
+special study. ‘Know thyself,’ you remember.”
+
+“I meant physically, not intellectually. Arbuthnot, do you mean to tell
+me that you did not recognise your own double in that man? Shave off
+your beard and put on his clothes and no one could distinguish you
+apart.”
+
+I sprang up, dropping my pipe.
+
+“Now you mention it,” I said slowly, “I suppose there was a
+resemblance. I didn’t look at him very much; I was studying the
+simulacrum of Yva. Also, you know it is some time since—I mean, there
+are no pier-glasses in Orofena.”
+
+“The man was _you_,” went on Bickley with conviction. “If I were
+superstitious I should think it a queer sort of omen. But as I am not,
+I know that I must be mad.”
+
+“Why? After all, an ancient man and a modern man might resemble each
+other.”
+
+“There are degrees in resemblance,” said Bickley with one of his
+contemptuous snorts. “It won’t do, Humphrey, my boy,” he added. “I can
+only think of one possible explanation—outside of the obvious one of
+madness.”
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“The Glittering Lady produced what Bastin called that cinematograph
+show in some way or other, did she not? She said that in order to do
+this she loosed some hidden forces. I suggest that she did nothing of
+the sort.”
+
+“Then whence did the pictures come and why?”
+
+“From her own brain, in order to impress us with a cock-and-bull,
+fairy-book story. If this were so she would quite naturally fill the
+role of the lover of the piece with the last man who had happened to
+impress her. Hence the resemblance.”
+
+“You presuppose a great deal, Bickley, including supernatural cunning
+and unexampled hypnotic influence. I don’t know, first, why she should
+be so anxious to add another impression to the many we have received in
+this place; and, secondly, if she was, how she managed to mesmerise
+three average but totally different men into seeing the same things.
+_My_ explanation is that you were deceived as to the likeness, which,
+mind you, I did not recognise; nor, apparently, did Bastin.”
+
+“Bastin never recognises anything. But if you are in doubt, ask Yva
+herself. She ought to know. Now I’m off to try to analyse that
+confounded Life-water, which I suspect is of the ordinary spring
+variety, lightened up with natural carbonic acid gas and possibly not
+uninfluenced by radium. The trouble is that here I can only apply some
+very elementary tests.”
+
+So he went also, in an opposite direction to Bastin, and I was left
+alone with Tommy, who annoyed me much by attempting continually to
+wander off into the cave, whence I must recall him. I suppose that my
+experiences of the day, reviewed beneath the sweet influences of the
+wonderful tropical night, affected me. At any rate, that mystical side
+of my nature, to which I think I alluded at the beginning of this
+record, sprang into active and, in a sense, unholy life. The normal
+vanished, the abnormal took possession, and that is unholy to most of
+us creatures of habit and tradition, at any rate, if we are British. I
+lost my footing on the world; my spirit began to wander in strange
+places; of course, always supposing that we have a spirit, which
+Bickley would deny.
+
+I gave up reason; I surrendered myself to unreason; it is a not
+unpleasant process, occasionally. Supposing now that all we see and
+accept is but the merest fragment of the truth, or perhaps only a
+refraction thereof? Supposing that we do live again and again, and that
+our animating principle, whatever it might be, does inhabit various
+bodies, which, naturally enough, it would shape to its own taste and
+likeness? Would that taste and likeness vary so very much over, let us
+say, a million years or so, which, after all, is but an hour, or a
+minute, in the æons of Eternity?
+
+On this hypothesis, which is so wild that one begins to suspect that it
+may be true, was it impossible that I and that murdered man of the far
+past were in fact identical? If the woman were the same, preserved
+across the gulf in some unknown fashion, why should not her lover be
+the same? What did I say—her lover? Was I her lover? No, I was the
+lover of one who had died—my lost wife. Well, if I had died and lived
+again, why should not—why should not that Sleeper—have lived again
+during her long sleep? Through all those years the spirit must have had
+some home, and, if so, in what shapes did it live? There were points,
+similarities, which rushed in upon me—oh! it was ridiculous. Bickley
+was right. We were all mad!
+
+There was another thing. Oro had declared that we were at war with
+Germany. If this were so, how could he know it? Such knowledge would
+presume powers of telepathy or vision beyond those given to man. I
+could not believe that he possessed these; as Bickley said, it would be
+past experience. Yet it was most strange that he who was uninformed as
+to our national history and dangers, should have hit upon a country
+with which we might well have been plunged into sudden struggle. Here
+again I was bewildered and overcome. My brain rocked. I would seek
+sleep, and in it escape, or at any rate rest from all these mysteries.
+
+On the following morning we despatched Bastin to keep his rendezvous in
+the sepulchre at the proper time. Had we not done so I felt sure that
+he would have forgotten it, for on this occasion he was for once an
+unwilling missioner. He tried to persuade one of us to come with
+him—even Bickley would have been welcome; but we both declared that we
+could not dream of interfering in such a professional matter; also that
+our presence was forbidden, and would certainly distract the attention
+of his pupil.
+
+“What you mean,” said the gloomy Bastin, “is that you intend to enjoy
+yourselves up here in the female companionship of the Glittering Lady
+whilst I sit thousands of feet underground attempting to lighten the
+darkness of a violent old sinner whom I suspect of being in league with
+Satan.”
+
+“With whom you should be proud to break a lance,” said Bickley.
+
+“So I am, in the daylight. For instance, when he uses _your_ mouth to
+advance his arguments, Bickley, but this is another matter. However, if
+I do not appear again you will know that I died in a good cause, and, I
+hope, try to recover my remains and give them decent burial. Also, you
+might inform the Bishop of how I came to my end, that is, if you ever
+get an opportunity, which is more than doubtful.”
+
+“Hurry up, Bastin, hurry up!” said the unfeeling Bickley, “or you will
+be late for your appointment and put your would-be neophyte into a bad
+temper.”
+
+Then Bastin went, carrying under his arm a large Bible printed in the
+language of the South Sea Islands.
+
+A little while later Yva appeared, arrayed in her wondrous robes which,
+being a man, it is quite impossible for me to describe. She saw us
+looking at these, and, after greeting us both, also Tommy, who was
+enraptured at her coming, asked us how the ladies of our country
+attired themselves.
+
+We tried to explain, with no striking success.
+
+“You are as stupid about such matters as were the men of the Old
+World,” she said, shaking her head and laughing. “I thought that you
+had with you pictures of ladies you have known which would show me.”
+
+Now, in fact, I had in a pocket-book a photograph of my wife in
+evening-dress, also a miniature of her head and bust painted on ivory,
+a beautiful piece of work done by a master hand, which I always wore.
+These, after a moment’s hesitation, I produced and showed to her,
+Bickley having gone away for a little while to see about something
+connected with his attempted analysis of the Life-water. She examined
+them with great eagerness, and as she did so I noted that her face grew
+tender and troubled.
+
+“This was your wife,” she said as one who states what she knows to be a
+fact. I nodded, and she went on:
+
+“She was sweet and beautiful as a flower, but not so tall as I am, I
+think.”
+
+“No,” I answered, “she lacked height; given that she would have been a
+lovely woman.”
+
+“I am glad you think that women should be tall,” she said, glancing at
+her shadow. “The eyes were such as mine, were they not—in colour, I
+mean?”
+
+“Yes, very like yours, only yours are larger.”
+
+“That is a beautiful way of wearing the hair. Would you be angry if I
+tried it? I weary of this old fashion.”
+
+“Why should I be angry?” I asked.
+
+At this moment Bickley reappeared and she began to talk of the details
+of the dress, saying that it showed more of the neck than had been the
+custom among the women of her people, but was very pretty.
+
+“That is because we are still barbarians,” said Bickley; “at least, our
+women are, and therefore rely upon primitive methods of attraction,
+like the savages yonder.”
+
+She smiled, and, after a last, long glance, gave me back the photograph
+and the miniature, saying as she delivered the latter:
+
+“I rejoice to see that you are faithful, Humphrey, and wear this
+picture on your heart, as well as in it.”
+
+“Then you must be a very remarkable woman,” said Bickley. “Never before
+did I hear one of your sex rejoice because a man was faithful to
+somebody else.”
+
+“Has Bickley been disappointed in his love-heart, that he is so angry
+to us women?” asked Yva innocently of me. Then, without waiting for an
+answer, she inquired of him whether he had been successful in his
+analysis of the Life-water.
+
+“How do you know what I was doing with the Life-water? Did Bastin tell
+you?” exclaimed Bickley.
+
+“Bastin told me nothing, except that he was afraid of the descent to
+Nyo; that he hated Nyo when he reached it, as indeed I do, and that he
+thought that my father, the Lord Oro, was a devil or evil spirit from
+some Under-world which he called hell.”
+
+“Bastin has an open heart and an open mouth,” said Bickley, “for which
+I respect him. Follow his example if you will, Lady Yva, and tell us
+who and what is the Lord Oro, and who and what are you.”
+
+“Have we not done so already? If not, I will repeat. The Lord Oro and I
+are two who have lived on from the old time when the world was
+different, and yet, I think, the same. He is a man and not a god, and I
+am a woman. His powers are great because of his knowledge, which he has
+gathered from his forefathers and in a life of a thousand years before
+he went to sleep. He can do things you cannot do. Thus, he can pass
+through space and take others with him, and return again. He can learn
+what is happening in far-off parts of the world, as he did when he told
+you of the war in which your country is concerned. He has terrible
+powers; for instance, he can kill, as he killed those savages. Also, he
+knows the secrets of the earth, and, if it pleases him, can change its
+turning so that earthquakes happen and sea becomes land, and land sea,
+and the places that were hot grow cold, and those that were cold grow
+hot.”
+
+“All of which things have happened many times in the history of the
+globe,” said Bickley, “without the help of the Lord Oro.”
+
+“Others had knowledge before my father, and others doubtless will have
+knowledge after him. Even I, Yva, have some knowledge, and knowledge is
+strength.”
+
+“Yes,” I interposed, “but such powers as you attribute to your father
+are not given to man.”
+
+“You mean to man as you know him, man like Bickley, who thinks that he
+has learned everything that was ever learned. But it is not so.
+Hundreds of thousands of years ago men knew more than it seems they do
+today, ten times more, as they lived ten times longer, or so you tell
+me.”
+
+“Men?” I said.
+
+“Yes, men, not gods or spirits, as the uninstructed nations supposed
+them to be. My father is a man subject to the hopes and terrors of man.
+He desires power which is ambition, and when the world refused his
+rule, he destroyed that part of it which rebelled, which is revenge.
+Moreover, above all things he dreads death, which is fear. That is why
+he suspended life in himself and me for two hundred and fifty thousand
+years, as his knowledge gave him strength to do, because death was near
+and he thought that sleep was better than death.”
+
+“Why should he dread to die,” asked Bickley, “seeing that sleep and
+death are the same?”
+
+“Because his knowledge tells him that Sleep and Death are _not_ the
+same, as you, in your foolishness, believe, for there Bastin is wiser
+than you. Because for all his wisdom he remains ignorant of what
+happens to man when the Light of Life is blown out by the breath of
+Fate. That is why he fears to die and why he talks with Bastin the
+Preacher, who says he has the secret of the future.”
+
+“And do you fear to die?” I asked.
+
+“No, Humphrey,” she answered gently. “Because I think that there is no
+death, and, having done no wrong, I dread no evil. I had dreams while I
+was asleep, O Humphrey, and it seemed to me that—”
+
+Here she ceased and glanced at where she knew the miniature was hanging
+upon my breast.
+
+“Now,” she continued, after a little pause, “tell me of your world, of
+its history, of its languages, of what happens there, for I long to
+know.”
+
+So then and there, assisted by Bickley, I began the education of the
+Lady Yva. I do not suppose that there was ever a more apt pupil in the
+whole earth. To begin with, she was better acquainted with every
+subject on which I touched than I was myself; all she lacked was
+information as to its modern aspect. Her knowledge ended two hundred
+and fifty thousand years ago, at which date, however, it would seem
+that civilisation had already touched a higher water-mark than it has
+ever since attained. Thus, this vanished people understood astronomy,
+natural magnetism, the force of gravity, steam, also electricity to
+some subtle use of which, I gathered, the lighting of their underground
+city was to be attributed. They had mastered architecture and the arts,
+as their buildings and statues showed; they could fly through the air
+better than we have learned to do within the last few years.
+
+More, they, or some of them, had learned the use of the Fourth
+Dimension, that is their most instructed individuals, could move
+_through_ opposing things, as well as over them, up into them and
+across them. This power these possessed in a two-fold form. I mean,
+that they could either disintegrate their bodies at one spot and cause
+them to integrate again at another, or they could project what the old
+Egyptians called the Ka or Double, and modern Theosophists name the
+Astral Shape, to any distance. Moreover, this Double, or Astral Shape,
+while itself invisible, still, so to speak, had the use of its senses.
+It could see, it could hear, and it could remember, and, on returning
+to the body, it could avail itself of the experience thus acquired.
+
+Thus, at least, said Yva, while Bickley contemplated her with a cold
+and unbelieving eye. She even went further and alleged that in certain
+instances, individuals of her extinct race had been able to pass
+through the ether and to visit other worlds in the depths of space.
+
+“Have you ever done that?” asked Bickley.
+
+“Once or twice I dreamed that I did,” she replied quietly.
+
+“We can all dream,” he answered.
+
+As it was my lot to make acquaintance with this strange and uncanny
+power at a later date, I will say no more of it now.
+
+Telepathy, she declared, was also a developed gift among the Sons of
+Wisdom; indeed, they seem to have used it as we use wireless messages.
+Only, in their case, the sending and receiving stations were skilled
+and susceptible human beings who went on duty for so many hours at a
+time. Thus intelligence was transmitted with accuracy and despatch.
+Those who had this faculty were, she said, also very apt at reading the
+minds of others and therefore not easy to deceive.
+
+“Is that how you know that I had been trying to analyse your
+Life-water?” asked Bickley.
+
+“Yes,” she answered, with her unvarying smile. “At the moment I spoke
+thereof you were wondering whether my father would be angry if he knew
+that you had taken the water in a little flask.” She studied him for a
+moment, then added: “Now you are wondering, first, whether I did not
+see you take the water from the fountain and guess the purpose, and,
+secondly, whether perhaps Bastin did not tell me what you were doing
+with it when we met in the sepulchre.”
+
+“Look here,” said the exasperated Bickley, “I admit that telepathy and
+thought-reading are possible to a certain limited extent. But supposing
+that you possess those powers, as I think in English, and you do not
+know English, how can you interpret what is passing in my mind?”
+
+“Perhaps you have been teaching me English all this while without
+knowing it, Bickley. In any case, it matters little, seeing that what I
+read is the thought, not the language with which it is clothed. The
+thought comes from your mind to mine—that is, if I wish it, which is
+not often—and I interpret it in my own or other tongues.”
+
+“I am glad to hear it is not often, Lady Yva, since thoughts are
+generally considered private.”
+
+“Yes, and therefore I will read yours no more. Why should I, when they
+are so full of disbelief of all I tell you, and sometimes of other
+things about myself which I do not seek to know?”
+
+“No wonder that, according to the story in the pictures, those Nations,
+whom you named Barbarians, made an end of your people, Lady Yva.”
+
+“You are mistaken, Bickley; the Lord Oro made an end of the Nations,
+though against my prayer,” she added with a sigh.
+
+Then Bickley departed in a rage, and did not appear again for an hour.
+
+“He is angry,” she said, looking after him; “nor do I wonder. It is
+hard for the very clever like Bickley, who think that they have
+mastered all things, to find that after all they are quite ignorant. I
+am sorry for him, and I like him very much.”
+
+“Then you would be sorry for me also, Lady Yva?”
+
+“Why?” she asked with a dazzling smile, “when your heart is athirst for
+knowledge, gaping for it like a fledgling’s mouth for food, and, as it
+chances, though I am not very wise, I can satisfy something of your
+soul-hunger.”
+
+“Not very wise!” I repeated.
+
+“No, Humphrey. I think that Bastin, who in many ways is so stupid, has
+more true wisdom than I have, because he can believe and accept without
+question. After all, the wisdom of my people is all of the universe and
+its wonders. What you think magic is not magic; it is only gathered
+knowledge and the finding out of secrets. Bickley will tell you the
+same, although as yet he does not believe that the mind of man can
+stretch so far.”
+
+“You mean that your wisdom has in it nothing of the spirit?”
+
+“Yes, Humphrey, that is what I mean. I do not even know if there is
+such a thing as spirit. Our god was Fate; Bastin’s god is a spirit, and
+I think yours also.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Therefore, I wish you and Bastin to teach me of your god, as does Oro,
+my father. I want—oh! so much, Humphrey, to learn whether we live after
+death.”
+
+“You!” I exclaimed. “You who, according to the story, have slept for
+two hundred and fifty thousand years! You, who have, unless I mistake,
+hinted that during that sleep you may have lived in other shapes! Do
+you doubt whether we can live after death?”
+
+“Yes. Sleep induced by secret arts is not death, and during that sleep
+the _I_ within might wander and inhabit other shapes, because it is
+forbidden to be idle. Moreover, what seems to be death may not be
+death, only another form of sleep from which the _I_ awakes again upon
+the world. But at last comes the real death, when the _I_ is
+extinguished to the world. That much I know, because my people learned
+it.”
+
+“You mean, you know that men and women may live again and again upon
+the world?”
+
+“Yes, Humphrey, I do. For in the world there is only a certain store of
+life which in many forms travels on and on, till the lot of each _I_ is
+fulfilled. Then comes the real death, and after that—what, oh!—what?”
+
+“You must ask Bastin,” I said humbly. “I cannot dare to teach of such
+matters.”
+
+“No, but you can and do believe, and that helps me, Humphrey, who am in
+tune with you. Yes, it helps me much more than do Bastin and his new
+religion, because such is woman’s way. Now, I think Bickley will soon
+return, so let us talk of other matters. Tell me of the history of your
+people, Humphrey, that my father says are now at war.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+The Accident
+
+
+Bickley did return, having recovered his temper, since after all it was
+impossible for anyone to remain angry with the Lady Yva for long, and
+we spent a very happy time together. We instructed and she was the
+humble pupil.
+
+How swift and nimble was her intelligence! In that one morning she
+learned all our alphabet and how to write our letters. It appeared that
+among her people, at any rate in their later periods, the only form of
+writing that was used was a highly concentrated shorthand which saved
+labour. They had no journals, since news which arrived telepathically
+or by some form of wireless was proclaimed to those who cared to
+listen, and on it all formed their own judgments. In the same way poems
+and even romances were repeated, as in Homer’s day or in the time of
+the Norse _sagas_, by word of mouth. None of their secret knowledge was
+written down. Like the ritual of Freemasonry it was considered too
+sacred.
+
+Moreover, when men lived for hundreds of years this was not so
+necessary, especially as their great fear was lest it should fall into
+the hands of the outside nations, whom they called Barbarians. For, be
+it remembered, these Sons of Wisdom were always a very small people who
+ruled by the weight of their intelligence and the strength of their
+accumulated lore. Indeed, they could scarcely be called a people;
+rather were they a few families, all of them more or less connected
+with the original ruling Dynasty which considered itself half divine.
+These families were waited upon by a multitude of servants or slaves
+drawn from the subject nations, for the most part skilled in one art or
+another, or perhaps, remarkable for their personal beauty. Still they
+remained outside the pale.
+
+The Sons of Wisdom did not intermarry with them or teach them their
+learning, or even allow them to drink of their Life-water. They ruled
+them as men rule dogs, treating them with kindness, but no more, and as
+many dogs run their course and die in the lifetime of one master, so
+did many of these slaves in that of one of the Sons of Wisdom.
+Therefore, the slaves came to regard their lords not as men, but gods.
+They lived but three score years and ten like the rest of us, and went
+their way, they, whose great-great-grandfathers had served the same
+master and whose great-great-great-grandchildren would still serve him.
+What should we think of a lord who we knew was already adult in the
+time of William the Conqueror, and who remained still vigorous and
+all-powerful in that of George V? One, moreover, who commanded almost
+infinite knowledge to which we were denied the key? We might tremble
+before him and look upon him as half-divine, but should we not long to
+kill him and possess his knowledge and thereby prolong our own
+existence to his wondrous measure?
+
+Such, said Yva, was the case with their slaves and the peoples from
+whence these sprang. They grew mad with jealous hate, till at length
+came the end we knew.
+
+Thus we talked on for hours till the time came for us to eat. As before
+Yva partook of fruit and we of such meats as we had at hand. These, we
+noticed, disgusted her, because, as she explained, the Children of
+Wisdom, unless driven thereto by necessity, touched no flesh, but lived
+on the fruits of the earth and wine alone. Only the slaves and the
+Barbarians ate flesh. In these views Bickley for once agreed with her,
+that is, except as regards the wine, for in theory, if not in
+practice—he was a vegetarian.
+
+“I will bring you more of the Life-water,” she said, “and then you will
+grow to hate these dead things, as I do. And now farewell. My father
+calls me. I hear him though you do not. To-morrow I cannot come, but
+the day after I will come and bring you the Life-water. Nay, accompany
+me not, but as I see he wishes it, let Tommy go with me. I will care
+for him, and he is a friend in all that lonely place.”
+
+So she went, and with her Tommy, rejoicing.
+
+“Ungrateful little devil!” said Bickley. “Here we’ve fed and petted him
+from puppyhood, or at least you have, and yet he skips off with the
+first stranger. I never saw him behave like that to any woman, except
+your poor wife.”
+
+“I know,” I answered. “I cannot understand it. Hullo! here comes
+Bastin.”
+
+Bastin it was, dishevelled and looking much the worse for wear, also
+minus his Bible in the native tongue.
+
+“Well, how have you been getting on?” said Bickley.
+
+“I should like some tea, also anything there is to eat.”
+
+We supplied him with these necessaries, and after a while he said
+slowly and solemnly:
+
+“I cannot help thinking of a childish story which Bickley told or
+invented one night at your house at home. I remember he had an argument
+with my wife, which he said put him in mind of it, I am sure I don’t
+know why. It was about a monkey and a parrot that were left together
+under a sofa for a long while, where they were so quiet that everybody
+forgot them. Then the parrot came out with only one feather left in its
+tail and none at all on its body, saying, ‘I’ve had no end of a time!’
+after which it dropped down and died. Do you know, I feel just like
+that parrot, only I don’t mean to die, and I think I gave the monkey
+quite as good as he gave me!”
+
+“What happened?” I asked, intensely interested.
+
+“Oh! the Glittering Lady took me into that palace hall where Oro was
+sitting like a spider in a web, and left me there. I got to work at
+once. He was much interested in the Old Testament stories and said
+there were points of truth about them, although they had evidently come
+down to the modern writer—he called him a _modern_ writer—in a
+legendary form. I thought his remarks impertinent and with difficulty
+refrained from saying so. Leaving the story of the Deluge and all that,
+I spoke of other matters, telling him of eternal life and Heaven and
+Hell, of which the poor benighted man had never heard. I pointed out
+especially that unless he repented, his life, by all accounts, had been
+so wicked, that he was certainly destined to the latter place.”
+
+“What did he say to that?” I asked.
+
+“Do you know, I think it frightened him, if one could imagine Oro being
+frightened. At any rate he remarked that the truth or falsity of what I
+said was an urgent matter for him, as he could not expect to live more
+than a few hundred years longer, though perhaps he might prolong the
+period by another spell of sleep. Then he asked me why I thought him so
+wicked. I replied because he himself said that he had drowned millions
+of people, which showed an evil heart and intention even if it were not
+a fact. He thought a long while and asked what could be done in the
+circumstances. I replied that repentance and reparation were the only
+courses open to him.”
+
+“Reparation!” I exclaimed.
+
+“Yes, reparation was what I said, though I think I made a mistake
+there, as you will see. As nearly as I can remember, he answered that
+he was beginning to repent, as from all he had learned from us, he
+gathered that the races which had arisen as a consequence of his
+action, were worse than those which he had destroyed. As regards
+reparation, what he had done once he could do again. He would think the
+matter over seriously, and see if it were possible and advisable to
+raise those parts of the world which had been sunk, and sink those
+which had been raised. If so, he thought that would make very handsome
+amends to the departed nations and set him quite right with any
+superior Power, if such a thing existed. What are you laughing at,
+Bickley? I don’t think it a laughing matter, since such remarks do not
+seem to me to indicate any real change in Oro’s heart, which is what I
+was trying to effect.”
+
+Bickley, who was convulsed with merriment, wiped his eyes and said:
+
+“You dear old donkey, don’t you see what you have done, or rather would
+have done if there were a word of truth in all this ridiculous story
+about a deluge? You would be in the way of making your precious pupil,
+who certainly is the most masterly old liar in the world, repeat his
+offence and send Europe to the bottom of the sea.”
+
+“That did occur to me, but it doesn’t much matter as I am quite certain
+that such a thing would never be allowed. Of course there was a real
+deluge once, but Oro had no more to do with it than I had. Don’t you
+agree, Arbuthnot?”
+
+“I think so,” I answered cautiously, “but really in this place I am
+beginning to lose count of what is or is not possible. Also, of course,
+there may have been many deluges; indeed the history of the world shows
+that this was so; it is written in its geological strata. What was the
+end of it?”
+
+“The end was that he took the South Sea Bible and, after I had
+explained a little about our letters, seemed to be able to read it at
+once. I suppose he was acquainted with the art of printing in his
+youth. At any rate he said that he would study it, I don’t know how,
+unless he can read, and that in two days’ time he would let me know
+what he thought about the matter of my religion. Then he told me to go.
+I said that I did not know the way and was afraid of losing myself.
+Thereupon he waved his hand, and I really can’t say what happened.”
+
+“Did you levitate up here,” asked Bickley, “like the late lamented Mr.
+Home at the spiritualistic seances?”
+
+“No, I did not exactly levitate, but something or someone seemed to get
+a hold of me, and I was just rushed along in a most tumultuous fashion.
+The next thing I knew was that I was standing at the door of that
+sepulchre, though I have no recollection of going up in the lift, or
+whatever it is. I believe those beastly caves are full of ghosts, or
+devils, and the worst of it is that they have kept my solar-tope, which
+I put on this morning forgetting that it would be useless there.”
+
+“The Lady Yva’s Fourth Dimension in action,” I suggested, “only it
+wouldn’t work on solar-topes.”
+
+“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Bastin, “but if my hat
+had to be left, why not my boots and other garments? Please stop your
+nonsense and pass the tea. Thank goodness I haven’t got to go down
+there tomorrow, as he seems to have had enough of me for the present,
+so I vote we all pay a visit to the ship. It will be a very pleasant
+change. I couldn’t stand two days running with that old fiend, and his
+ghosts or devils in the cave.”
+
+Next morning accordingly, fearing no harm from the Orofenans, we took
+the canoe and rowed to the main island. Marama had evidently seen us
+coming, for he and a number of his people met us with every
+demonstration of delight, and escorted us to the ship. Here we found
+things just as we had left them, for there had been no attempt at theft
+or other mischief.
+
+While we were in the cabin a fit of moral weakness seemed to overcome
+Bickley, the first and I may add the last from which I ever saw him
+suffer.
+
+“Do you know,” he said, addressing us, “I think that we should do well
+to try to get out of this place. Eliminating a great deal of the
+marvelous with which we seem to have come in touch here, it is still
+obvious that we find ourselves in very peculiar and unhealthy
+surroundings. I mean mentally unhealthy, indeed I think that if we stay
+here much longer we shall probably go off our heads. Now that boat on
+the deck remains sound and seaworthy. Why should not we provision her
+and take our chance? We know more or less which way to steer.”
+
+Bastin and I looked at each other. It was he who spoke first.
+
+“Wouldn’t it be rather a risky job in an open boat?” he asked.
+“However, that doesn’t matter much because I don’t take any account of
+risks, knowing that I am of more value than a sparrow and that the
+hairs of my head are all numbered.”
+
+“They might be numbered under water as well as above it,” muttered
+Bickley, “and I feel sure that on your own showing, you would be as
+valuable dead as alive.”
+
+“What I seem to feel,” went on Bastin, “is that I have work to my hand
+here. Also, the _locum tenens_ at Fulcombe no doubt runs the parish as
+well as I could. Indeed I consider him a better man for the place than
+I am. That old Oro is a tough proposition, but I do not despair of him
+yet, and besides him there is the Glittering Lady, a most open-minded
+person, whom I have not yet had any real opportunity of approaching in
+a spiritual sense. Then there are all these natives who cannot learn
+without a teacher. So on the whole I think I would rather stay where I
+am until Providence points out some other path.”
+
+“I am of the same opinion, if for somewhat different reasons,” I said.
+“I do not suppose that it has often been the fortune of men to come in
+touch with such things as we have found upon this island. They may be
+illusions, but at least they are very interesting illusions. One might
+live ten lifetimes and find nothing else of the sort. Therefore I
+should like to see the end of the dream.”
+
+Bickley reflected a little, then said:
+
+“On the whole I agree with you. Only my brain totters and I am terribly
+afraid of madness. I cannot believe what I seem to hear and see, and
+that way madness lies. It is better to die than to go mad.”
+
+“You’ll do that anyway when your time comes, Bickley, I mean decease,
+of course,” interrupted Bastin. “And who knows, perhaps all this is an
+opportunity given by Providence to open your eyes, which, I must say,
+are singularly blind. You think you know everything there is to learn,
+but the fact is that like the rest of us, you know nothing at all, and
+good man though you are, obstinately refuse to admit the truth and to
+seek support elsewhere. For my part I believe that you are afraid of
+falling in love with that Glittering Lady and of being convinced by her
+that you are wrong in your most unsatisfactory conclusions.”
+
+“I am out-voted anyway,” said Bickley, “and for the rest, Bastin, look
+after yourself and leave me alone. I will add that on the whole I think
+you are both right, and that it is wisest for us to stop where we are,
+for after all we can only die once.”
+
+“I am not so sure, Bickley. There is a thing called the second death,
+which is what is troubling that old scoundrel, Oro. Now I will go and
+look for those books.”
+
+So the idea of flight was abandoned, although I admit that even to
+myself it had attractions. For I felt that I was being wrapped in a net
+of mysteries from which I saw no escape. Yes, and of more than
+mysteries; I who had sworn that I would never look upon another woman,
+was learning to love this sweet and wondrous Yva, and of that what
+could be the end?
+
+We collected all we had come to seek, and started homewards escorted by
+Marama and his people, including a number of young women who danced
+before us in a light array of flowers.
+
+Passing our old house, we came to the grove where the idol Oro had
+stood and Bastin was so nearly sacrificed. There was another idol there
+now which he wished to examine, but in the end did not as the natives
+so obviously objected. Indeed Marama told me that notwithstanding the
+mysterious death of the sorcerers on the Rock of Offerings, there was
+still a strong party in the island who would be glad to do us a
+mischief if any further affront were offered to their hereditary god.
+
+He questioned us also tentatively about the apparition, for such he
+conceived it to be, which had appeared upon the rock and killed the
+sorcerers, and I answered him as I thought wisest, telling him that a
+terrible Power was afoot in the land, which he would do well to obey.
+
+“Yes,” he said; “the God of the Mountain of whom the tradition has come
+down to us from our forefathers. He is awake again; he sees, he hears
+and we are afraid. Plead with him for us, O Friend-from-the-Sea.”
+
+As he spoke we were passing through a little patch of thick bush.
+Suddenly from out of this bush, I saw a lad appear. He wore a mask upon
+his face, but from his shape could not have been more than thirteen or
+fourteen years of age. In his hand was a wooden club. He ran forward,
+stopped, and with a yell of hate hurled it, I think at Bastin, but it
+hit me. At any rate I felt a shock and remembered no more.
+
+Dreams. Dreams. Endless dreams! What were they all about? I do not
+know. It seemed to me that through them continually I saw the stately
+figure of old Oro contemplating me gravely, as though he were making up
+his mind about something in which I must play a part. Then there was
+another figure, that of the gracious but imperial Yva, who from time to
+time, as I thought, leant over me and whispered in my ear words of rest
+and comfort. Nor was this all, since her shape had a way of changing
+suddenly into that of my lost wife who would speak with her voice. Or
+perhaps my wife would speak with Yva’s voice. To my disordered sense it
+was as though they were one personality, having two shapes, either of
+which could be assumed at will. It was most strange and yet to me most
+blessed, since in the living I seemed to have found the dead, and in
+the dead the living. More, I took journeys, or rather some unknown part
+of me seemed to do so. One of these I remember, for its majestic
+character stamped itself upon my mind in such a fashion that all the
+waters of delirium could not wash it out nor all its winds blow away
+that memory.
+
+I was travelling through space with Yva a thousand times faster than
+light can flash. We passed sun after sun. They drew near, they grew
+into enormous, flaming Glories round which circled world upon world.
+They became small, dwindled to points of light and disappeared.
+
+We found footing upon some far land and passed a marvelous white city
+wherein were buildings with domes of crystal and alabaster, in the
+latter of which were set windows made of great jewels; sapphires or
+rubies they seemed to me. We went on up a lovely valley. To the left
+were hills, down which tumbled waterfalls; to the right was a river
+broad and deep that seemed to overflow its banks as does the Nile.
+Behind were high mountains on the slopes of which grew forests of
+glorious trees, some of them aflame with bloom, while far away up their
+crests stood colossal golden statues set wide apart. They looked like
+guardian angels watching that city and that vale. The land was lit with
+a light such as that of the moon, only intensified and of many colours.
+Indeed looking up, I saw that above us floated three moons, each of
+them bigger than our own at the full, and gathered that here it was
+night.
+
+We came to a house set amid scented gardens and having in front of it
+terraces of flowers. It seemed not unlike my own house at home, but I
+took little note of it, because of a woman who sat upon the verandah,
+if I may call it so. She was clad in garments of white silk fastened
+about her middle with a jewelled girdle. On her neck also was a collar
+of jewels. I forget the colour; indeed this seemed to change
+continually as the light from the different moons struck when she
+moved, but I think its prevailing tinge was blue. In her arms this
+woman nursed a beauteous, sleeping child, singing happily as she rocked
+it to and fro. Yva went towards the woman who looked up at her step and
+uttered a little cry. Then for the first time I saw the woman’s face.
+It was that of my dead wife!
+
+As I followed in my dream, a little cloud of mist seemed to cover both
+my wife and Yva, and when I reached the place Yva was gone. Only my
+wife remained, she and the child. There she stood, solemn and sweet.
+While I drew near she laid down the child upon the cushioned seat from
+which she had risen. She stretched out her arms and flung them about
+me. She embraced me and I embraced her in a rapture of reunion. Then
+turning she lifted up the child, it was a girl, for me to kiss.
+
+“See your daughter,” she said, “and behold all that I am making ready
+for you where we shall dwell in a day to come.”
+
+I grew confused.
+
+“Yva,” I said. “Where is Yva who brought me here? Did she go into the
+house?”
+
+“Yes,” she answered happily. “Yva went into the house. Look again!”
+
+I looked and it was Yva’s face that was pressed against my own, and
+Yva’s eyes that gazed into mine. Only she was garbed as my wife had
+been, and on her bosom hung the changeful necklace.
+
+“You may not stay,” she whispered, and lo! it was my wife that spoke,
+not Yva.
+
+“Tell me what it means?” I implored.
+
+“I cannot,” she answered. “There are mysteries that you may not know as
+yet. Love Yva if you will and I shall not be jealous, for in loving Yva
+you love me. You cannot understand? Then know this, that the spirit has
+many shapes, and yet is the same spirit—sometimes. Now I who am far,
+yet near, bid you farewell a while.”
+
+Then all passed in a flash and the dream ended.
+
+Such was the only one of those visions which I can recall.
+
+I seemed to wake up as from a long and tumultuous sleep. The first
+thing I saw was the palm roof of our house upon the rock. I knew it was
+our house, for just above me was a palm leaf of which I had myself tied
+the stalk to the framework with a bit of coloured ribbon that I had
+chanced to find in my pocket. It came originally from the programme
+card of a dance that I had attended at Honolulu and I had kept it
+because I thought it might be useful. Finally I used it to secure that
+loose leaf. I stared at the ribbon which brought back a flood of
+memories, and as I was thus engaged I heard voices talking, and
+listened—Bickley’s voice, and the Lady Yva’s.
+
+“Yes,” Bickley was saying, “he will do well now, but he went near, very
+near.”
+
+“I knew he would not die,” she answered, “because my father said so.”
+
+“There are two sorts of deaths,” replied Bickley, “that of the body and
+that of the mind. I was afraid that even if he lived, his reason would
+go, but from certain indications I do not think that will happen now.
+He will get quite well again—though—” and he stopped.
+
+“I am very glad to hear you say so,” chimed in Bastin. “For weeks I
+thought that I should have to read the Burial Service over poor
+Arbuthnot. Indeed I was much puzzled as to the best place to bury him.
+Finally I found a very suitable spot round the corner there, where it
+isn’t rock, in which one can’t dig and the soil is not liable to be
+flooded. In fact I went so far as to clear away the bush and to mark
+out the grave with its foot to the east. In this climate one can’t
+delay, you know.”
+
+Weak as I was, I smiled. This practical proceeding was so exactly like
+Bastin.
+
+“Well, you wasted your labour,” exclaimed Bickley.
+
+“Yes, I am glad to say I did. But I don’t think it was your operations
+and the rest that cured him, Bickley, although you take all the credit.
+I believe it was the Life-water that the Lady Yva made him drink and
+the stuff that Oro sent which we gave him when you weren’t looking.”
+
+“Then I hope that in the future you will not interfere with my cases,”
+said the indignant Bickley, and either the voices passed away or I went
+to sleep.
+
+When I woke up again it was to find the Lady Yva seated at my side
+watching me.
+
+“Forgive me, Humphrey, because I here; others gone out walking,” she
+said slowly in English.
+
+“Who taught you my language?” I asked, astonished.
+
+“Bastin and Bickley, while you ill, they teach; they teach me much. Man
+just same now as he was hundred thousand years ago,” she added
+enigmatically. “All think one woman beautiful when no other woman
+there.”
+
+“Indeed,” I replied, wondering to what proceedings on the part of
+Bastin and Bickley she alluded. Could that self-centred pair—oh! it was
+impossible.
+
+“How long have I been ill?” I asked to escape the subject which I felt
+to be uncomfortable.
+
+She lifted her beautiful eyes in search of words and began to count
+upon her fingers.
+
+“Two moon, one half moon, yes, ten week, counting Sabbath,” she
+answered triumphantly.
+
+“Ten weeks!” I exclaimed.
+
+“Yes, Humphrey, ten whole weeks and three days you first bad, then mad.
+Oh!” she went on, breaking into the Orofenan tongue which she spoke so
+perfectly, although it was not her own. That language of hers I never
+learned, but I know she thought in it and only translated into
+Orofenan, because of the great difficulty which she had in rendering
+her high and refined ideas into its simpler metaphor, and the strange
+words which often she introduced. “Oh! you have been very ill, friend
+of my heart. At times I thought that you were going to die, and wept
+and wept. Bickley thinks that he saved you and he is very clever. But
+he could not have saved you; that wanted more knowledge than any of
+your people have; only I pray you, do not tell him so because it would
+hurt his pride.”
+
+“What was the matter with me then, Yva?”
+
+“All was the matter. First, the weapon which that youth threw—he was
+the son of the sorcerer whom my father destroyed—crushed in the bone of
+your head. He is dead for his crime and may he be accursed for ever,”
+she added in the only outbreak of rage and vindictiveness in which I
+ever saw her indulge.
+
+“One must make excuses for him; his father had been killed,” I said.
+
+“Yes, that is what Bastin tells me, and it is true. Still, for that
+young man I can make no excuse; it was cowardly and wicked. Well,
+Bickley performed what he calls operation, and the Lord Oro, he came up
+from his house and helped him, because Bastin is no good in such
+things. Then he can only turn away his head and pray. I, too, helped,
+holding hot water and linen and jar of the stuff that made you feel
+like nothing, although the sight made me feel more sick than anything
+since I saw one I loved killed, oh, long, long ago.”
+
+“Was the operation successful?” I asked, for I did not dare to begin to
+thank her.
+
+“Yes, that clever man, Bickley, lifted the bone which had been crushed
+in. Only then something broke in your head and you began to bleed
+here,” and she touched what I believe is called the temporal artery.
+“The vein had been crushed by the blow, and gave way. Bickley worked
+and worked, and just in time he tied it up before you died. Oh! then I
+felt as though I loved Bickley, though afterwards Bastin said that I
+ought to have loved _him_, since it was not Bickley who stopped the
+bleeding, but his prayer.”
+
+“Perhaps it was both,” I suggested.
+
+“Perhaps, Humphrey, at least you were saved. Then came another trouble.
+You took fever. Bickley said that it was because a certain gnat had
+bitten you when you went down to the ship, and my father, the Lord Oro,
+told me that this was right. At the least you grew very weak and lost
+your mind, and it seemed as though you must die. Then, Humphrey, I went
+to the Lord Oro and kneeled before him and prayed for your life, for I
+knew that he could cure you if he would, though Bickley’s skill was at
+an end.
+
+“‘Daughter,’ he said to me, ‘not once but again and again you have set
+up your will against mine in the past. Why then should I trouble myself
+to grant this desire of yours in the present, and save a man who is
+nothing to me?’
+
+“I rose to my feet and answered, ‘I do not know, my Father, yet I am
+certain that for your own sake it will be well to do so. I am sure that
+of everything even you must give an account at last, great though you
+be, and who knows, perhaps one life which you have saved may turn the
+balance in your favour.’
+
+“‘Surely the priest Bastin has been talking to you,’ he said.
+
+“‘He has,’ I answered, ‘and not he alone. Many voices have been talking
+to me.’”
+
+“What did you mean by that?” I asked.
+
+“It matters nothing what I meant, Humphrey. Be still and listen to my
+story. My father thought a while and answered:
+
+“‘I am jealous of this stranger. What is he but a short-lived
+half-barbarian such as we knew in the old days? And yet already you
+think more of him than you do of me, your father, the divine Oro who
+has lived a thousand years. At first I helped that physician to save
+him, but now I think I wish him dead.’
+
+“‘If you let this man die, my Father,’ I answered, ‘then we part.
+Remember that I also have of the wisdom of our people, and can use it
+if I will.’
+
+“‘Then save him yourself,’ he said.
+
+“‘Perhaps I shall, my Father,’ I answered, ‘but if so it will not be
+here. I say that if so we part and you shall be left to rule in your
+majesty alone.’
+
+“Now this frightened the Lord Oro, for he has the weakness that he
+hates to be alone.
+
+“‘If I do what you will, do you swear never to leave me, Yva?’ he
+asked. ‘Know that if you will not swear, the man dies.’
+
+“‘I swear,’ I answered—for your sake, Humphrey—though I did not love
+the oath.
+
+“Then he gave me a certain medicine to mix with the Life-water, and
+when you were almost gone that medicine cured you, though Bickley does
+not know it, as nothing else could have done. Now I have told you the
+truth, for your own ear only, Humphrey.”
+
+“Yva,” I asked, “why did you do all this for me?”
+
+“Humphrey, I do not know,” she answered, “but I think because I must.
+Now sleep a while.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+The Proposals of Bastin and Bickley
+
+
+So far as my body was concerned I grew well with great rapidity, though
+it was long before I got back my strength. Thus I could not walk far or
+endure any sustained exertion. With my mind it was otherwise. I can not
+explain what had happened to it; indeed I do not know, but in a sense
+it seemed to have become detached and to have assumed a kind of
+personality of its own. At times it felt as though it were no longer an
+inhabitant of the body, but rather its more or less independent
+partner. I was perfectly clear-headed and of insanity I experienced no
+symptoms. Yet my mind, I use that term from lack of a better, was not
+entirely under my control. For one thing, at night it appeared to
+wander far away, though whither it went and what it saw there I could
+never remember.
+
+I record this because possibly it explains certain mysterious events,
+if they were events and not dreams, which shortly I must set out. I
+spoke to Bickley about the matter. He put it by lightly, saying that it
+was only a result of my long and most severe illness and that I should
+steady down in time, especially if we could escape from that island and
+its unnatural atmosphere. Yet as he spoke he glanced at me shrewdly
+with his quick eyes, and when he turned to go away I heard him mutter
+something to himself about “unholy influences” and “that confounded old
+Oro.”
+
+The words were spoken to himself and quite beneath his breath, and of
+course not meant to reach me. But one of the curious concomitants of my
+state was that all my senses, and especially my hearing, had become
+most abnormally acute. A whisper far away was now to me like a loud
+remark made in a room.
+
+Bickley’s reflection, for I can scarcely call it more, set me thinking.
+Yva had said that Oro sent me medicine which was administered to me
+without Bickley’s knowledge, and as she believed, saved my life, or
+certainly my reason. What was in it? I wondered. Then there was that
+Life-water which Yva brought and insisted upon my drinking every day.
+Undoubtedly it was a marvelous tonic and did me good. But it had other
+effects also. Thus, as she said would be the case, after a course of it
+I conceived the greatest dislike, which I may add has never entirely
+left me, of any form of meat, also of alcohol. All I seemed to want was
+this water with fruit, or such native vegetables as there were. Bickley
+disapproved and made me eat fish occasionally, but even this revolted
+me, and since I gained steadily in weight, as we found out by a simple
+contrivance, and remained healthy in every other way, soon he allowed
+me to choose my own diet.
+
+About this time Oro began to pay me frequent visits. He always came at
+night, and what is more I knew when he was coming, although he never
+gave me warning. Here I should explain that during my illness Bastin,
+who was so ingenious in such matters, had built another hut in which he
+and Bickley slept, of course when they were not watching me, leaving
+our old bed-chamber to myself.
+
+Well, I would wake up and be aware that Oro was coming. Then he
+appeared in a silent and mysterious way, as though he had materialised
+in the room, for I never saw him pass the doorway. In the moonlight, or
+the starlight, which flowed through the entrance and the side of the
+hut that was only enclosed with latticework, I perceived him seat
+himself upon a certain stool, looking like a most majestic ghost with
+his flowing robes, long white beard, hooked nose and hawk eyes. In the
+day-time he much resembled the late General Booth whom I had often
+seen, except for certain added qualities of height and classic beauty
+of countenance. At night, however, he resembled no one but himself,
+indeed there was something mighty and godlike in his appearance,
+something that made one feel that he was not as are other men.
+
+For a while he would sit and look at me. Then he began to speak in a
+low, vibrant voice. What did he speak of? Well, many matters. It was as
+though he were unburdening that hoary soul of his because it could no
+longer endure the grandeur of its own loneliness. Amongst sundry secret
+things, he told me of the past history of this world of ours, and of
+the mighty civilisations which for uncounted ages he and his
+forefathers had ruled by the strength of their will and knowledge, of
+the dwindling of their race and of the final destruction of its
+enemies, although I noticed that now he no longer said that this was
+his work alone. One night I asked him if he did not miss all such pomp
+and power.
+
+Then suddenly he broke out, and for the first time I really learned
+what ambition can be when it utterly possesses the soul of man.
+
+“Are you mad,” he asked, “that you suppose that I, Oro, the King of
+kings, can be content to dwell solitary in a great cave with none but
+the shadows of the dead to serve me? Nay, I must rule again and be even
+greater than before, or else I too will die. Better to face the future,
+even if it means oblivion, than to remain thus a relic of a glorious
+past, still living and yet dead, like that statue of the great god Fate
+which you saw in the temple of my worship.”
+
+“Bastin does not think that the future means oblivion,” I remarked.
+
+“I know it. I have studied his faith and find it too humble for my
+taste, also too new. Shall I, Oro, creep a suppliant before any Power,
+and confess what Bastin is pleased to call my sins? Nay, I who am great
+will be the equal of all greatness, or nothing.”
+
+He paused a while, then went on:
+
+“Bastin speaks of ‘eternity.’ Where and what then is this eternity
+which if it has no end can have had no beginning? I know the secret of
+the suns and their attendant worlds, and they are no more eternal than
+the insect which glitters for an hour. Out of shapeless, rushing gases
+they gathered to live their day, and into gases at last they dissolve
+again with all they bore.”
+
+“Yes,” I answered, “but they reform into new worlds.”
+
+“That have no part with the old. This world, too, will melt, departing
+to whence it came, as your sacred writings say, and what then of those
+who dwelt and dwell thereon? No, Man of today, give me Time in which I
+rule and keep your dreams of an Eternity that is not, and in which you
+must still crawl and serve, even if it were. Yet, if I might, I confess
+it, I would live on for ever, but as Master not as Slave.”
+
+On another night he began to tempt me, very subtly. “I see a spark of
+greatness in you, Humphrey,” he said, “and it comes into my heart that
+you, too, might learn to rule. With Yva, the last of my blood, it is
+otherwise. She is the child of my age and of a race outworn; too
+gentle, too much all womanly. The soul that triumphs must shine like
+steel in the sun, and cut if need be; not merely be beauteous and shed
+perfume like a lily in the shade. Yet she is very wise and fair,” here
+he looked at me, “perchance of her might come children such as were
+their forefathers, who again would wield the sceptre of the dominion of
+the earth.”
+
+I made no answer, wondering what he meant exactly and thinking it
+wisest to be silent.
+
+“You are of the short-lived races,” he went on, “yet very much a man,
+not without intelligence, and by the arts I have I can so strengthen
+your frame that it will endure the shocks of time for three such lives
+as yours, or perchance for more, and then—”
+
+Again he paused and went on:
+
+“The Daughter of kings likes you also, perhaps because you resemble—”
+here he fixed me with his piercing eyes, “a certain kinglet of base
+blood whom once she also liked, but whom it was my duty to destroy.
+Well, I must think. I must study this world of yours also and therein
+you may help me. Perhaps afterwards I will tell you how. Now sleep.”
+
+In another moment he was gone, but notwithstanding his powerful
+command, for a while I could not sleep. I understood that he was
+offering Yva to me, but upon what terms? That was the question. With
+her was to go great dominion over the kingdoms of the earth. I could
+not help remembering that always this has been and still is Satan’s
+favourite bait. To me it did not particularly appeal. I had been
+ambitious in my time—who is not that is worth his salt? I could have
+wished to excel in something, literature or art, or whatever it might
+be, and thus to ensure the memory of my name in the world.
+
+Of course this is a most futile desire, seeing that soon or late every
+name must fade out of the world like an unfixed photograph which is
+exposed to the sun. Even if it could endure, as the old demigod, or
+demidevil, Oro, had pointed out, very shortly, by comparison with
+Time’s unmeasured vastness, the whole solar system will also fade. So
+of what use is this feeble love of fame and this vain attempt to be
+remembered that animates us so strongly? Moreover, the idea of enjoying
+mere temporal as opposed to intellectual power, appealed to me not at
+all. I am a student of history and I know what has been the lot of
+kings and the evil that, often enough, they work in their little day.
+
+Also if I needed any further example, there was that of Oro himself. He
+had outlived the greatness of his House, as a royal family is called,
+and after some gigantic murder, if his own story was to be believed,
+indulged in a prolonged sleep. Now he awoke to find himself quite alone
+in the world, save for a daughter with whom he did not agree or
+sympathise. In short, he was but a kind of animated mummy inspired by
+one idea which I felt quite sure would be disappointed, namely, to
+renew his former greatness. To me he seemed as miserable a figure as
+one could imagine, brooding and plotting in his illuminated cave, at
+the end of an extended but misspent life.
+
+Also I wondered what he, or rather his _ego_, had been doing during all
+those two hundred and fifty thousand years of sleep. Possibly if Yva’s
+theory, as I understood it, were correct, he had reincarnated as
+Attila, or Tamerlane, or Napoleon, or even as Chaka the terrible Zulu
+king. At any rate there he was still in the world, filled with the
+dread of death, but consumed now as ever by his insatiable and most
+useless finite ambitions.
+
+Yva, also! Her case was his, but yet how different. In all this long
+night of Time she had but ripened into one of the sweetest and most
+gentle women that ever the world bore. She, too, was great in her way,
+it appeared in her every word and gesture, but where was the ferocity
+of her father? Where his desire to reach to splendour by treading on a
+blood-stained road paved with broken human hearts? It did not exist.
+Her nature was different although her body came of a long line of these
+power-loving kings. Why this profound difference of the spirit? Like
+everything else it was a mystery. The two were as far apart as the
+Poles. Everyone must have hated Oro, from the beginning, however much
+he feared him, but everyone who came in touch with her must have loved
+Yva.
+
+Here I may break into my personal narrative to say that this, by their
+own confession, proved to be true of two such various persons as Bastin
+and Bickley.
+
+“The truth, which I am sure it would be wrong to hide from you,
+Arbuthnot,” said the former to me one day, “is that during your long
+illness I fell in love, I suppose that is the right word, with the
+Glittering Lady. After thinking the matter over also, I conceived that
+it would be proper to tell her so if only to clear the air and prevent
+future misunderstandings. As I remarked to her on that occasion, I had
+hesitated long, as I was not certain how she would fill the place of
+the wife of the incumbent of an English parish.”
+
+“Mothers’ Meetings, and the rest,” I suggested.
+
+“Exactly so, Arbuthnot. Also there were the views of the Bishop to be
+considered, who might have objected to the introduction into the
+diocese of a striking person who so recently had been a heathen, and to
+one in such strong contrast to my late beloved wife.”
+
+“I suppose you didn’t consider the late Mrs. Bastin’s views on the
+subject of re-marriage. I remember that they were strong,” I remarked
+rather maliciously.
+
+“No, I did not think it necessary, since the Scriptural instructions on
+the matter are very clear, and in another world no doubt all
+jealousies, even Sarah’s, will be obliterated. Upon that point my
+conscience was quite easy. So when I found that, unlike her parent, the
+Lady Yva was much inclined to accept the principles of the faith in
+which it is my privilege to instruct her, I thought it proper to say to
+her that if ultimately she made up her mind to do so—of course _this_
+was a _sine qua non_—I should be much honoured, and as a man, not as a
+priest, it would make me most happy if she would take me as a husband.
+Of course I explained to her that I considered, under the
+circumstances, I could quite lawfully perform the marriage ceremony
+myself with you and Bickley as witnesses, even should Oro refuse to
+give her away. Also I told her that although after her varied
+experiences in the past, life at Fulcombe, if we could ever get there,
+might be a little monotonous, still it would not be entirely devoid of
+interest.”
+
+“You mean Christmas decorations and that sort of thing?”
+
+“Yes, and choir treats and entertaining Deputations and attending other
+Church activities.”
+
+“Well, and what did she say, Bastin?”
+
+“Oh! she was most kind and flattering. Indeed that hour will always
+remain the pleasantest of my life. I don’t know how it happened, but
+when it was over I felt quite delighted that she had refused me. Indeed
+on second thoughts, I am not certain but that I shall be much happier
+in the capacities of a brother and teacher which she asked me to fill,
+than I should have been as her husband. To tell you the truth,
+Arbuthnot, there are moments when I am not sure whether I entirely
+understand the Lady Yva. It was rather like proposing to one’s guardian
+angel.”
+
+“Yes,” I said, “that’s about it, old fellow. ‘Guardian Angel’ is not a
+bad name for her.”
+
+Afterwards I received the confidence of Bickley.
+
+“Look here, Arbuthnot,” he said. “I want to own up to something. I
+think I ought to, because of certain things I have observed, in order
+to prevent possible future misunderstandings.”
+
+“What’s that?” I asked innocently.
+
+“Only this. As you know, I have always been a confirmed bachelor on
+principle. Women introduce too many complications into life, and
+although it involves some sacrifice, on the whole, I have thought it
+best to do without them and leave the carrying on of the world to
+others.”
+
+“Well, what of it? Your views are not singular, Bickley.”
+
+“Only this. While you were ill the sweetness of that Lady Yva and her
+wonderful qualities as a nurse overcame me. I went to pieces all of a
+sudden. I saw in her a realisation of every ideal I had ever
+entertained of perfect womanhood. So to speak, my resolves of a
+lifetime melted like wax in the sun. Notwithstanding her queer history
+and the marvels with which she is mixed up, I wished to marry her. No
+doubt her physical loveliness was at the bottom of it, but, however
+that may be, there it was.”
+
+“She is beautiful,” I commented; “though I daresay older than she
+looks.”
+
+“That is a point on which I made no inquiries, and I should advise you,
+when your turn comes, as no doubt it will, to follow my example. You
+know, Arbuthnot,” he mused, “however lovely a woman may be, it would
+put one off if suddenly she announced that she was—let us say—a hundred
+and fifty years old.”
+
+“Yes,” I admitted, “for nobody wants to marry the contemporary of his
+great-grandmother. However, she gave her age as twenty-seven years and
+three moons.”
+
+“And doubtless for once did not tell the truth. But, as she does not
+look more than twenty-five, I think that we may all agree to let it
+stand at that, namely, twenty-seven, plus an indefinite period of
+sleep. At any rate, she is a sweet and most gracious woman, apparently
+in the bloom of youth, and, to cut it short, I fell in love with her.”
+
+“Like Bastin,” I said.
+
+“Bastin!” exclaimed Bickley indignantly. “You don’t mean to say that
+clerical oaf presumed—well, well, after all, I suppose that he is a
+man, so one mustn’t be hard on him. But who could have thought that he
+would run so cunning, even when he knew my sentiments towards the lady?
+I hope she told him her mind.”
+
+“The point is, what did she tell _you_, Bickley?”
+
+“Me? Oh, she was perfectly charming! It really was a pleasure to be
+refused by her, she puts one so thoroughly at one’s ease.” (Here,
+remembering Bastin and his story, I turned away my face to hide a
+smile.) “She said—what did she say exactly? Such a lot that it is
+difficult to remember. Oh! that she was not thinking of marriage. Also,
+that she had not yet recovered from some recent love affair which left
+her heart sore, since the time of her sleep did not count. Also, that
+her father would never consent, and that the mere idea of such a thing
+would excite his animosity against all of us.”
+
+“Is that all?” I asked.
+
+“Not quite. She added that she felt wonderfully flattered and extremely
+honoured by what I had been so good as to say to her. She hoped,
+however, that I should never repeat it or even allude to the matter
+again, as her dearest wish was to be able to look upon me as her most
+intimate friend to whom she could always come for sympathy and
+counsel.”
+
+“What happened then?”
+
+“Nothing, of course, except that I promised everything that she wished,
+and mean to stick to it, too. Naturally, I was very sore and upset, but
+I am getting over it, having always practised self-control.”
+
+“I am sorry for you, old fellow.”
+
+“Are you?” he asked suspiciously. “Then perhaps you have tried your
+luck, too?”
+
+“No, Bickley.”
+
+His face fell a little at this denial, and he answered:
+
+“Well, it would have been scarcely decent if you had, seeing how lately
+you were married. But then, so was that artful Bastin. Perhaps you will
+get over it—recent marriage, I mean—as he has.” He hesitated a while,
+then went on: “Of course you will, old fellow; I know it, and, what is
+more, I seem to know that when your turn comes you will get a different
+answer. If so, it will keep her in the family as it were—and good luck
+to you. Only—”
+
+“Only what?” I asked anxiously.
+
+“To be honest, Arbuthnot, I don’t think that there will be real good
+luck for any one of us over this woman—not in the ordinary sense, I
+mean. The whole business is too strange and superhuman. Is she quite a
+woman, and could she really marry a man as others do?”
+
+“It is curious that you should talk like that,” I said uneasily. “I
+thought that you had made up your mind that the whole business was
+either illusion or trickery—I mean, the odd side of it.”
+
+“If it is illusion, Arbuthnot, then a man cannot marry an illusion. And
+if it is trickery, then he will certainly be tricked. But, supposing
+that I am wrong, what then?”
+
+“You mean, supposing things are as they seem to be?”
+
+“Yes. In that event, Arbuthnot, I am sure that something will occur to
+prevent your being united to a woman who lived thousands of years ago.
+I am sorry to say it, but Fate will intervene. Remember, it is the god
+of her people that I suppose she worships, and, I may add, to which the
+whole world bows.”
+
+At his words a kind of chill fell upon me. I think he saw or divined
+it, for after a few remarks upon some indifferent matter, he turned and
+went away.
+
+Shortly after this Yva came to sit with me. She studied me for a while
+and I studied her. I had reason to do so, for I observed that of late
+her dress had become much more modern, and on the present occasion this
+struck me forcibly. I do not know exactly in what the change, or
+changes, consisted, because I am not skilled in such matters and can
+only judge of a woman’s garments by their general effect. At any rate,
+the gorgeous sweeping robes were gone, and though her attire still
+looked foreign and somewhat oriental, with a touch of barbaric
+splendour about it—it was simpler than it had been and showed more of
+her figure, which was delicate, yet gracious.
+
+“You have changed your robes, Lady,” I said.
+
+“Yes, Humphrey. Bastin gave me pictures of those your women wear.” (On
+further investigation I found that this referred to an old copy of the
+_Queen_ newspaper, which, somehow or other, had been brought with the
+books from the ship.) “I have tried to copy them a little,” she added
+doubtfully.
+
+“How do you do it? Where do you get the material?” I asked.
+
+“Oh!” she answered with an airy wave of her hand, “I make it—it is
+there.”
+
+“I don’t understand,” I said, but she only smiled radiantly, offering
+no further explanation. Then, before I could pursue the subject, she
+asked me suddenly:
+
+“What has Bickley been saying to you about me?”
+
+I fenced, answering: “I don’t know. Bastin and Bickley talk of little
+else. You seem to have been a great deal with them while I was ill.”
+
+“Yes, a great deal. They are the nearest to you who were so sick. Is it
+not so?”
+
+“I don’t know,” I answered again. “In my illness it seemed to me that
+_you_ were the nearest.”
+
+“About Bastin’s words I can guess,” she went on. “But I ask again—what
+has Bickley been saying to you about me? Of the first part, let it be;
+tell me the rest.”
+
+I intended to evade her question, but she fixed those violet,
+compelling eyes upon me and I was obliged to answer.
+
+“I believe you know as well as I do,” I said; “but if you will have it,
+it was that you are not as other human women are, and that he who would
+treat you as such, must suffer; that was the gist of it.”
+
+“Some might be content to suffer for such as I,” she answered with
+quiet sweetness. “Even Bastin and Bickley may be content to suffer in
+their own little ways.”
+
+“You know that is not what I meant,” I interrupted angrily, for I felt
+that she was throwing reflections on me.
+
+“No; you meant that you agreed with Bickley that I am not quite a
+woman, as you know women.”
+
+I was silent, for her words were true.
+
+Then she blazed out into one of her flashes of splendour, like
+something that takes fire on an instant; like the faint and distant
+star which flames into sudden glory before the watcher’s telescope.
+
+“It is true that I am not as your women are—your poor, pale women, the
+shadows of an hour with night behind them and before. Because I am
+humble and patient, do you therefore suppose that I am not great? Man
+from the little country across the sea, I lived when the world was
+young, and gathered up the ancient wisdom of a greater race than yours,
+and when the world is old I think that I still shall live, though not
+in this shape or here, with all that wisdom’s essence burning in my
+breast, and with all beauty in my eyes. Bickley does not believe
+although he worships. You only half believe and do not worship, because
+memory holds you back, and I myself do not understand. I only know
+though knowing so much, still I seek roads to learning, even the humble
+road called Bastin, that yet may lead my feet to the gate of an
+immortal city.”
+
+“Nor do I understand how all this can be, Yva,” I said feebly, for she
+dazzled and overwhelmed me with her blaze of power.
+
+“No, you do not understand. How can you, when even I cannot? Thus for
+two hundred and fifty thousand years I slept, and they went by as a
+lightning flash. One moment my father gave me the draught and I laid me
+down, the next I awoke with you bending over me, or so it seemed. Yet
+where was I through all those centuries when for me time had ceased?
+Tell me, Humphrey, did you dream at all while you were ill? I ask
+because down in that lonely cavern where I sleep a strange dream came
+to me one night. It was of a journey which, as I thought, you and I
+seemed to make together, past suns and universes to a very distant
+earth. It meant nothing, Humphrey. If you and I chanced to have dreamed
+the same thing, it was only because my dream travelled to you. It is
+most common, or used to be. Humphrey, Bickley is quite right, I am not
+altogether as your women are, and I can bring no happiness to any man,
+or at the least, to one who cannot wait. Therefore, perhaps you would
+do well to think less of me, as I have counselled Bastin and Bickley.”
+
+Then again she gazed at me with her wonderful, great eyes, and, shaking
+her glittering head a little, smiled and went.
+
+But oh! that smile drew my heart after her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+Oro and Arbuthnot Travel by Night
+
+
+As time went on, Oro began to visit me more and more frequently, till
+at last scarcely a night went by that he did not appear mysteriously in
+my sleeping-place. The odd thing was that neither Bickley nor Bastin
+seemed to be aware of these nocturnal calls. Indeed, when I mentioned
+them on one or two occasions, they stared at me and said it was strange
+that he should have come and gone as they saw nothing of him.
+
+On my speaking again of the matter, Bickley at once turned the
+conversation, from which I gathered that he believed me to be suffering
+from delusions consequent on my illness, or perhaps to have taken to
+dreaming. This was not wonderful since, as I learned afterwards,
+Bickley, after he was sure that I was asleep, made a practice of tying
+a thread across my doorway and of ascertaining at the dawn that it
+remained unbroken. But Oro was not to be caught in that way. I suppose,
+as it was impossible for him to pass through the latticework of the
+open side of the house, that he undid the thread and fastened it again
+when he left; at least, that was Bastin’s explanation, or, rather, one
+of them. Another was that he crawled beneath it, but this I could not
+believe. I am quite certain that during all his prolonged existence Oro
+never crawled.
+
+At any rate, he came, or seemed to come, and pumped me—I can use no
+other word—most energetically as to existing conditions in the world,
+especially those of the civilised countries, their methods of
+government, their social state, the physical characteristics of the
+various races, their religions, the exact degrees of civilisation that
+they had developed, their attainments in art, science and literature,
+their martial capacities, their laws, and I know not what besides.
+
+I told him all I could, but did not in the least seem to satisfy his
+perennial thirst for information.
+
+“I should prefer to judge for myself,” he said at last.
+
+“Why are you so anxious to learn about all these nations, Oro?” I
+asked, exhausted.
+
+“Because the knowledge I gather may affect my plans for the future,” he
+replied darkly.
+
+“I am told, Oro, that your people acquired the power of transporting
+themselves from place to place.”
+
+“It is true that the lords of the Sons of Wisdom had such power, and
+that I have it still, O Humphrey.”
+
+“Then why do you not go to look with your own eyes?” I suggested.
+
+“Because I should need a guide; one who could explain much in a short
+time,” he said, contemplating me with his burning glance until I began
+to feel uncomfortable.
+
+To change the subject I asked him whether he had any further
+information about the war, which he had told me was raging in Europe.
+
+He answered: “Not much; only that it was going on with varying success,
+and would continue to do so until the nations involved therein were
+exhausted,” or so he believed. The war did not seem greatly to interest
+Oro. It was, he remarked, but a small affair compared to those which he
+had known in the old days. Then he departed, and I went to sleep.
+
+Next night he appeared again, and, after talking a little on different
+subjects, remarked quietly that he had been thinking over what I had
+said as to his visiting the modern world, and intended to act upon the
+suggestion.
+
+“When?” I asked.
+
+“Now,” he said. “I am going to visit this England of yours and the town
+you call London, and _you_ will accompany me.”
+
+“It is not possible!” I exclaimed. “We have no ship.”
+
+“We can travel without a ship,” said Oro.
+
+I grew alarmed, and suggested that Bastin or Bickley would be a much
+better companion than I should in my present weak state.
+
+“An empty-headed man, or one who always doubts and argues, would be
+useless,” he replied sharply. “You shall come and you only.”
+
+I expostulated; I tried to get up and fly—which, indeed, I did do, in
+another sense.
+
+But Oro fixed his eyes upon me and slowly waved his thin hand to and
+fro above my head.
+
+My senses reeled. Then came a great darkness.
+
+They returned again. Now I was standing in an icy, reeking fog, which I
+knew could belong to one place only—London, in December, and at my side
+was Oro.
+
+“Is this the climate of your wonderful city?” he asked, or seemed to
+ask, in an aggrieved tone.
+
+I replied that it was, for about three months in the year, and began to
+look about me.
+
+Soon I found my bearings. In front of me were great piles of buildings,
+looking dim and mysterious in the fog, in which I recognised the Houses
+of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, for both could be seen from where
+we stood in front of the Westminster Bridge Station. I explained their
+identity to Oro.
+
+“Good,” he said. “Let us enter your Place of Talk.”
+
+“But I am not a member, and we have no passes for the Strangers’
+Gallery,” I expostulated.
+
+“We shall not need any,” he replied contemptuously. “Lead on.”
+
+Thus adjured, I crossed the road, Oro following me. Looking round, to
+my horror I saw him right in the path of a motor-bus which seemed to go
+over him.
+
+“There’s an end to Oro,” thought I to myself. “Well, at any rate, I
+have got home.”
+
+Next instant he was at my side quite undisturbed by the incident of the
+bus. We came to a policeman at the door and I hesitated, expecting to
+be challenged. But the policeman seemed absolutely indifferent to our
+presence, even when Oro marched past him in his flowing robes. So I
+followed with a like success. Then I understood that we must be
+invisible.
+
+We passed to the lobby, where members were hurrying to and fro, and
+constituents and pressmen were gathered, and so on into the House. Oro
+walked up its floor and took his stand by the table, in front of the
+Speaker. I followed him, none saying us No.
+
+As it chanced there was what is called a scene in progress—I think it
+was over Irish matters; the details are of no account. Members shouted,
+Ministers prevaricated and grew angry, the Speaker intervened. On the
+whole, it was rather a degrading spectacle. I stood, or seemed to
+stand, and watched it all. Oro, in his sweeping robes, which looked so
+incongruous in that place, stepped, or seemed to step, up to the
+principal personages of the Government and Opposition, whom I indicated
+to him, and inspected them one by one, as a naturalist might examine
+strange insects. Then, returning to me, he said:
+
+“Come away; I have seen and heard enough. Who would have thought that
+this nation of yours was struggling for its life in war?”
+
+We passed out of the House and somehow came to Trafalgar Square. A
+meeting was in progress there, convened, apparently, to advocate the
+rights of Labour, also those of women, also to protest against things
+in general, especially the threat of Conscription in the service of the
+country.
+
+Here the noise was tremendous, and, the fog having lifted somewhat, we
+could see everything. Speakers bawled from the base of Nelson’s column.
+Their supporters cheered, their adversaries rushed at them, and in one
+or two instances succeeded in pulling them down. A woman climbed up and
+began to scream out something which could only be heard by a few
+reporters gathered round her. I thought her an unpleasant-looking
+person, and evidently her remarks were not palatable to the majority of
+her auditors. There was a rush, and she was dragged from the base of
+one of Landseer’s lions on which she stood. Her skirt was half rent off
+her and her bodice split down the back. Finally, she was conveyed away,
+kicking, biting, and scratching, by a number of police. It was a
+disgusting sight, and tumult ensued.
+
+“Let us go,” said Oro. “Your officers of order are good; the rest is
+not good.”
+
+Later we found ourselves opposite to the doors of a famous restaurant
+where a magnificent and gigantic commissionaire helped ladies from
+motor-cars, receiving in return money from the men who attended on
+them. We entered; it was the hour of dinner. The place sparkled with
+gems, and the naked backs of the women gleamed in the electric light.
+Course followed upon course; champagne flowed, a fine band played,
+everything was costly; everything was, in a sense, repellent.
+
+“These are the wealthy citizens of a nation engaged in fighting for its
+life,” remarked Oro to me, stroking his long beard. “It is interesting,
+very interesting. Let us go.”
+
+We went out and on, passing a public-house crowded with women who had
+left their babies in charge of children in the icy street. It was a day
+of Intercession for the success of England in the war. This was
+placarded everywhere. We entered, or, rather, Oro did, I following him,
+one of the churches in the Strand where an evening service was in
+progress. The preacher in the pulpit, a very able man, was holding
+forth upon the necessity for national repentance and self-denial; also
+of prayer. In the body of the church exactly thirty-two people, most of
+them elderly women, were listening to him with an air of placid
+acceptance.
+
+“The priest talks well, but his hearers are not many,” said Oro. “Let
+us go.”
+
+We came to the flaunting doors of a great music-hall and passed through
+them, though to others this would have been impossible, for the place
+was filled from floor to roof. In its promenades men were drinking and
+smoking, while gaudy women, painted and low-robed, leered at them. On
+the stage girls danced, throwing their legs above their heads. Then
+they vanished amidst applause, and a woman in a yellow robe, who
+pretended to be tipsy, sang a horrible and vulgar song full of topical
+allusions, which was received with screams of delight by the enormous
+audience.
+
+“Here the hearers are very many, but those to whom they listen do not
+talk well. Let us go,” said Oro, and we went.
+
+At a recruiting station we paused a moment to consider posters supposed
+to be attractive, the very sight of which sent a thrill of shame
+through me. I remember that the inscription under one of them was:
+“What will your best girl say?”
+
+“Is that how you gather your soldiers? Later it will be otherwise,”
+said Oro, and passed on.
+
+We reached Blackfriars and entered a hall at the doors of which stood
+women in poke-bonnets, very sweet-faced, earnest-looking women. Their
+countenances seemed to strike Oro, and he motioned me to follow him
+into the hall. It was quite full of a miserable-looking congregation of
+perhaps a thousand people. A man in the blue and red uniform of the
+Salvation Army was preaching of duty to God and country, of
+self-denial, hope and forgiveness. He seemed a humble person, but his
+words were earnest, and love flowed from him. Some of his miserable
+congregation wept, others stared at him open-mouthed, a few, who were
+very weary, slept. He called them up to receive pardon, and a number,
+led by the sweet-faced women, came and knelt before him. He and others
+whispered to them, then seemed to bless them, and they rose with their
+faces changed.
+
+“Let us go,” said Oro. “I do not understand these rites, but at last in
+your great and wonderful city I have seen something that is pure and
+noble.”
+
+We went out. In the streets there was great excitement. People ran to
+and fro pointing upwards. Searchlights, like huge fingers of flame,
+stole across the sky; guns boomed. At last, in the glare of a
+searchlight, we saw a long and sinister object floating high above us
+and gleaming as though it were made of silver. Flashes came from it
+followed by terrible booming reports that grew nearer and nearer. A
+house collapsed with a crash just behind us.
+
+“Ah!” said Oro, with a smile. “I know this—it is war, war as it was
+when the world was different and yet the same.”
+
+As he spoke, a motor-bus rumbled past. Another flash and explosion. A
+man, walking with his arms round the waist of a girl just ahead of us;
+seemed to be tossed up and to melt. The girl fell in a heap on the
+pavement; somehow her head and her feet had come quite close together
+and yet she appeared to be sitting down. The motor-bus burst into
+fragments and its passengers hurtled through the air, mere hideous
+lumps that had been men and women. The head of one of them came dancing
+down the pavement towards us, a cigar still stuck in the corner of its
+mouth.
+
+“Yes, this is war,” said Oro. “It makes me young again to see it. But
+does this city of yours understand?”
+
+We watched a while. A crowd gathered. Policemen ran up, ambulances
+came. The place was cleared, and all that was left they carried away. A
+few minutes later another man passed by with his arm round the waist of
+another girl. Another motor-bus rumbled up, and, avoiding the hole in
+the roadway, travelled on, its conductor keeping a keen look-out for
+fares.
+
+The street was cleared by the police; the airship continued its course,
+spawning bombs in the distance, and vanished. The incident was closed.
+
+“Let us go home,” said Oro. “I have seen enough of your great and
+wonderful city. I would rest in the quiet of Nyo and think.”
+
+The next thing that I remember was the voice of Bastin, saying:
+
+“If you don’t mind, Arbuthnot, I wish that you would get up. The
+Glittering Lady (he still called her that) is coming here to have a
+talk with me which I should prefer to be private. Excuse me for
+disturbing you, but you have overslept yourself; indeed, I think it
+must be nine o’clock, so far as I can judge by the sun, for my watch is
+very erratic now, ever since Bickley tried to clean it.”
+
+“I am sorry, my dear fellow,” I said sleepily, “but do you know I
+thought I was in London—in fact, I could swear that I have been there.”
+
+“Then,” interrupted Bickley, who had followed Bastin into the hut,
+giving me that doubtful glance with which I was now familiar, “I wish
+to goodness that you had brought back an evening paper with you.”
+
+A night or two later I was again suddenly awakened to feel that Oro was
+approaching. He appeared like a ghost in the bright moonlight, greeted
+me, and said:
+
+“Tonight, Humphrey, we must make another journey. I would visit the
+seat of the war.”
+
+“I do not wish to go,” I said feebly.
+
+“What you wish does not matter,” he replied. “_I_ wish that you should
+go, and therefore you must.”
+
+“Listen, Oro,” I exclaimed. “I do not like this business; it seems
+dangerous to me.”
+
+“There is no danger if you are obedient, Humphrey.”
+
+“I think there is. I do not understand what happens. Do you make use of
+what the Lady Yva called the Fourth Dimension, so that our bodies pass
+over the seas and through mountains, like the vibrations of our
+Wireless, of which I was speaking to you?”
+
+“No, Humphrey. That method is good and easy, but I do not use it
+because if I did we should be visible in the places which we visit,
+since there all the atoms that make a man would collect together again
+and be a man.”
+
+“What, then, do you do?” I asked, exasperated.
+
+“Man, Humphrey, is not one; he is many. Thus, amongst other things he
+has a Double, which can see and hear, as he can in the flesh, if it is
+separated from the flesh.”
+
+“The old Egyptians believed that,” I said.
+
+“Did they? Doubtless they inherited the knowledge from us, the Sons of
+Wisdom. The cup of our learning was so full that, keep it secret as we
+would, from time to time some of it overflowed among the vulgar, and
+doubtless thus the light of our knowledge still burns feebly in the
+world.”
+
+I reflected to myself that whatever might be their other
+characteristics, the Sons of Wisdom had lost that of modesty, but I
+only asked how he used his Double, supposing that it existed.
+
+“Very easily,” he answered. “In sleep it can be drawn from the body and
+sent upon its mission by one that is its master.”
+
+“Then while you were asleep for all those thousands of years your
+Double must have made many journeys.”
+
+“Perhaps,” he replied quietly, “and my spirit also, which is another
+part of me that may have dwelt in the bodies of other men. But
+unhappily, if so I forget, and that is why I have so much to learn and
+must even make use of such poor instruments as you, Humphrey.”
+
+“Then if I sleep and you distil my Double out of me, I suppose that you
+sleep too. In that case who distils your Double out of _you_, Lord
+Oro?”
+
+He grew angry and answered:
+
+“Ask no more questions, blind and ignorant as you are. It is your part
+not to examine, but to obey. Sleep now,” and again he waved his hand
+over me.
+
+In an instant, as it seemed, we were standing in a grey old town that I
+judged from its appearance must be either in northern France or
+Belgium. It was much shattered by bombardment; the church, for
+instance, was a ruin; also many of the houses had been burnt. Now,
+however, no firing was going on for the town had been taken. The
+streets were full of armed men wearing the German uniform and helmet.
+We passed down them and were able to see into the houses. In some of
+these were German soldiers engaged in looting and in other things so
+horrible that even the unmoved Oro turned away his head.
+
+We came to the market-place. It was crowded with German troops, also
+with a great number of the inhabitants of the town, most of them
+elderly men and women with children, who had fallen into their power.
+The Germans, under the command of officers, were dragging the men from
+the arms of their wives and children to one side, and with rifle-butts
+beating back the screaming women. Among the men I noticed two or three
+priests who were doing their best to soothe their companions and even
+giving them absolution in hurried whispers.
+
+At length the separation was effected, whereon at a hoarse word of
+command, a company of soldiers began to fire at the men and continued
+doing so until all had fallen. Then petty officers went among the
+slaughtered and with pistols blew out the brains of any who still
+moved.
+
+“These butchers, you say, are Germans?” asked Oro of me.
+
+“Yes,” I answered, sick with horror, for though I was in the mind and
+not in the body, I could feel as the mind does. Had I been in the body
+also, I should have fainted.
+
+“Then we need not waste time in visiting their country. It is enough;
+let us go on.”
+
+We passed out into the open land and came to a village. It was in the
+occupation of German cavalry. Two of them held a little girl of nine or
+ten, one by her body, the other by her right hand. An officer stood
+between them with a drawn sword fronting the terrified child. He was a
+horrible, coarse-faced man who looked to me as though he had been
+drinking.
+
+“I’ll teach the young devil to show us the wrong road and let those
+French swine escape,” he shouted, and struck with the sword. The girl’s
+right hand fell to the ground.
+
+“War as practised by the Germans!” remarked Oro. Then he stepped, or
+seemed to step up to the man and whispered, or seemed to whisper, in
+his ear.
+
+I do not know what tongue or what spirit speech he used, or what he
+said, but the bloated-faced brute turned pale. Yes, he drew sick with
+fear.
+
+“I think there are spirits in this place,” he said with a German oath.
+“I could have sworn that something told me that I was going to die.
+Mount!”
+
+The Uhlans mounted and began to ride away.
+
+“Watch,” said Oro.
+
+As he spoke out of a dark cloud appeared an aeroplane. Its pilot saw
+the band of Germans beneath and dropped a bomb. The aim was good, for
+the missile exploded in the midst of them, causing a great cloud of
+dust from which arose the screams of men and horses.
+
+“Come and see,” said Oro.
+
+We were there. Out of the cloud of dust appeared one man galloping
+furiously. He was a young fellow who, as I noted, had turned his head
+away and hidden his eyes with his hand when the horror was done yonder.
+All the others were dead except the officer who had worked the deed. He
+was still living, but both his hands and one of his feet had been blown
+away. Presently he died, screaming to God for mercy.
+
+We passed on and came to a barn with wide doors that swung a little in
+the wind, causing the rusted hinges to scream like a creature in pain.
+On each of these doors hung a dead man crucified. The hat of one of
+them lay upon the ground, and I knew from the shape of it that he was a
+Colonial soldier.
+
+“Did you not tell me,” said Oro after surveying them, “that these
+Germans are of your Christian faith?”
+
+“Yes; and the Name of God is always on their ruler’s lips.”
+
+“Ah!” he said, “I am glad that I worship Fate. Bastin the priest need
+trouble me no more.”
+
+“There is something behind Fate,” I said, quoting Bastin himself.
+
+“Perhaps. So indeed I have always held, but after much study I cannot
+understand the manner of its working. Fate is enough for me.”
+
+We went on and came to a flat country that was lined with ditches, all
+of them full of men, Germans on one side, English and French upon the
+other. A terrible bombardment shook the earth, the shells raining upon
+the ditches. Presently that from the English guns ceased and out of the
+trenches in front of them thousands of men were vomited, who ran
+forward through a hail of fire in which scores and hundreds fell,
+across an open piece of ground that was pitted with shell craters. They
+came to barbed wire defenses, or what remained of them, cut the wire
+with nippers and pulled up the posts. Then through the gaps they surged
+in, shouting and hurling hand grenades. They reached the German
+trenches, they leapt into them and from those holes arose a hellish
+din. Pistols were fired and everywhere bayonets flashed.
+
+Behind them rushed a horde of little, dark-skinned men, Indians who
+carried great knives in their hands. Those leapt over the first trench
+and running on with wild yells, dived into the second, those who were
+left of them, and there began hacking with their knives at the
+defenders and the soldiers who worked the spitting maxim guns. In
+twenty minutes it was over; those lines of trenches were taken, and
+once more from either side the guns began to boom.
+
+“War again,” said Oro, “clean, honest war, such as the god I call Fate
+decrees for man. I have seen enough. Now I would visit those whom you
+call Turks. I understand they have another worship and perhaps they are
+nobler than these Christians.”
+
+We came to a hilly country which I recognised as Armenia, for once I
+travelled there, and stopped on a seashore. Here were the Turks in
+thousands. They were engaged in driving before them mobs of men, women
+and children in countless numbers. On and on they drove them till they
+reached the shore. There they massacred them with bayonets, with
+bullets, or by drowning. I remember a dreadful scene of a poor woman
+standing up to her waist in the water. Three children were clinging to
+her—but I cannot go on, really I cannot go on. In the end a Turk waded
+out and bayoneted her while she strove to protect the last living child
+with her poor body whence it sprang.
+
+“These, I understand,” said Oro, pointing to the Turkish soldiers,
+“worship a prophet who they say is the voice of God.”
+
+“Yes,” I answered, “and therefore they massacre these who are
+Christians because they worship God without a prophet.”
+
+“And what do the Christians massacre each other for?”
+
+“Power and the wealth and territories that are power. That is, the King
+of the Germans wishes to rule the world, but the other Nations do not
+desire his dominion. Therefore they fight for Liberty and Justice.”
+
+“As it was, so it is and shall be,” remarked Oro, “only with this
+difference. In the old world some were wise, but here—” and he stopped,
+his eyes fixed upon the Armenian woman struggling in her death agony
+while the murderer drowned her child, then added: “Let us go.”
+
+Our road ran across the sea. On it we saw a ship so large that it
+attracted Oro’s attention, and for once he expressed astonishment.
+
+“In my day,” he said, “we had no vessels of this greatness in the
+world. I wish to look upon it.”
+
+We landed on the deck of the ship, or rather the floating palace, and
+examined her. She carried many passengers, some English, some American,
+and I pointed out to Oro the differences between the two peoples. These
+were not, he remarked, very wide except that the American women wore
+more jewels, also that some of the American men, to whom we listened as
+they conversed, spoke of the greatness of their country, whereas the
+Englishmen, if they said anything concerning it, belittled their
+country.
+
+Presently, on the surface of the sea at a little distance appeared
+something strange, a small and ominous object like a can on the top of
+a pole. A voice cried out “_Submarine!_” and everyone near rushed to
+look.
+
+“If those Germans try any of their monkey tricks on us, I guess the
+United States will give them hell,” said another voice near by.
+
+Then from the direction of the pole with the tin can on the top of it,
+came something which caused a disturbance in the smooth water and
+bubbles to rise in its wake.
+
+“A torpedo!” cried some.
+
+“Shut your mouth,” said the voice. “Who dare torpedo a vessel full of
+the citizens of the United States?”
+
+Next came a booming crash and a flood of upthrown water, in the wash of
+which that speaker was carried away into the deep. Then horror! horror!
+horror! indescribable, as the mighty vessel went wallowing to her doom.
+Boats launched; boats overset; boats dragged under by her rush through
+the water which could not be stayed. Maddened men and women running to
+and fro, their eyes starting from their heads, clasping children,
+fastening lifebelts over their costly gowns, or appearing from their
+cabins, their hands filled with jewels that they sought to save. Orders
+cried from high places by stern-faced officers doing their duty to the
+last. And a little way off that thin pole with a tin can on the top of
+it watching its work.
+
+Then the plunge of the enormous ship into the deep, its huge screws
+still whirling in the air and the boom of the bursting boilers. Lastly
+everything gone save a few boats floating on the quiet sea and around
+them dots that were the heads of struggling human beings.
+
+“Let us go home,” said Oro. “I grow tired of this war of your Christian
+peoples. It is no better than that of the barbarian nations of the
+early world. Indeed it is worse, since then we worshipped Fate and but
+a few of us had wisdom. Now you all claim wisdom and declare that you
+worship a God of Mercy.”
+
+With these words still ringing in my ears I woke up upon the Island of
+Orofena, filled with terror at the horrible possibilities of nightmare.
+
+What else could it be? There was the brown and ancient cone of the
+extinct volcano. There were the tall palms of the main island and the
+lake glittering in the sunlight between. There was Bastin conducting a
+kind of Sunday school of Orofenans upon the point of the Rock of
+Offerings, as now he had obtained the leave of Oro to do. There was the
+mouth of the cave, and issuing from it Bickley, who by help of one of
+the hurricane lamps had been making an examination of the buried
+remains of what he supposed to be flying machines. Without doubt it was
+nightmare, and I would say nothing to them about it for fear of
+mockery.
+
+Yet two nights later Oro came again and after the usual preliminaries,
+said:
+
+“Humphrey, this night we will visit that mighty American nation, of
+which you have told me so much, and the other Neutral Countries.”
+
+[At this point there is a gap in Mr. Arbuthnot’s M.S., so Oro’s
+reflections on the Neutral Nations, if any, remain unrecorded. It
+continues:]
+
+On our homeward way we passed over Australia, making a detour to do so.
+Of the cities Oro took no account. He said that they were too large and
+too many, but the country interested him so much that I gathered he
+must have given great attention to agriculture at some time in the
+past. He pointed out to me that the climate was fine, and the land so
+fertile that with a proper system of irrigation and water-storage it
+could support tens of millions and feed not only itself but a great
+part of the outlying world.
+
+“But where are the people?” he asked. “Outside of those huge hives,”
+and he indicated the great cities, “I see few of them, though doubtless
+some of the men are fighting in this war. Well, in the days to come
+this must be remedied.”
+
+Over New Zealand, which he found beautiful, he shook his head for the
+same reason.
+
+On another night we visited the East. China with its teeming millions
+interested him extremely, partly because he declared these to be the
+descendants of one of the barbarian nations of his own day. He made a
+remark to the effect that this race had always possessed points and
+capacities, and that he thought that with proper government and
+instruction their Chinese offspring would be of use in a regenerated
+world.
+
+For the Japanese and all that they had done in two short generations,
+he went so far as to express real admiration, a very rare thing with
+Oro, who was by nature critical. I could see that mentally he put a
+white mark against their name.
+
+India, too, really moved him. He admired the ancient buildings at Delhi
+and Agra, especially the Taj Mahal. This, he declared, was reminiscent
+of some of the palaces that stood at Pani, the capital city of the Sons
+of Wisdom, before it was destroyed by the Barbarians.
+
+The English administration of the country also attracted a word of
+praise from him, I think because of its rather autocratic character.
+Indeed he went so far as to declare that, with certain modifications,
+it should be continued in the future, and even to intimate that he
+would bear the matter in mind. Democratic forms of government had no
+charms for Oro.
+
+Amongst other places, we stopped at Benares and watched the funeral
+rites in progress upon the banks of the holy Ganges. The bearers of the
+dead brought the body of a woman wrapped in a red shroud that glittered
+with tinsel ornaments. Coming forward at a run and chanting as they
+ran, they placed it upon the stones for a little while, then lifted it
+up again and carried it down the steps to the edge of the river. Here
+they took water and poured it over the corpse, thus performing the rite
+of the baptism of death. This done, they placed its feet in the water
+and left it looking very small and lonely. Presently appeared a tall,
+white-draped woman who took her stand by the body and wailed. It was
+the dead one’s mother. Again the bearers approached and laid the corpse
+upon the flaming pyre.
+
+“These rites are ancient,” said Oro. “When I ruled as King of the World
+they were practised in this very place. It is pleasant to me to find
+something that has survived the changefulness of Time. Let it continue
+till the end.”
+
+Here I will cease. These experiences that I have recorded are but
+samples, for also we visited Russia and other countries. Perhaps, too,
+they were not experiences at all, but only dreams consequent on my
+state of health. I cannot say for certain, though much of what I seemed
+to see fitted in very well indeed with what I learned in after days,
+and certainly at the time they appeared as real as though Oro and I had
+stood together upon those various shores.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+Love’s Eternal Altar
+
+
+Now of all these happenings I said very little to Bastin and Bickley.
+The former would not have understood them, and the latter attributed
+what I did tell him to mental delusions following on my illness. To Yva
+I did speak about them, however, imploring her to explain their origin
+and to tell me whether or not they were but visions of the night.
+
+She listened to me, as I thought not without anxiety, from which I
+gathered that she too feared for my mind. It was not so, however, for
+she said:
+
+“I am glad, O Humphrey, that your journeyings are done, since such
+things are not without danger. He who travels far out of the body may
+chance to return there no more.”
+
+“But were they journeyings, or dreams?” I asked.
+
+She evaded a direct answer.
+
+“I cannot say. My father has great powers. I do not know them all. It
+is possible that they were neither journeyings nor dreams. Mayhap he
+used you as the sorcerers in the old days used the magic glass, and
+after he had put his spell upon you, read in your mind that which
+passes elsewhere.”
+
+I understood her to refer to what we call clairvoyance, when the person
+entranced reveals secret or distant things to the entrancer. This is a
+more or less established phenomenon and much less marvelous than the
+actual transportation of the spiritual self through space. Only I never
+knew of an instance in which the seer, on awaking, remembered the
+things that he had seen, as in my case. There, however, the matter
+rested, or rests, for I could extract nothing more from Yva, who
+appeared to me to have her orders on the point.
+
+Nor did Oro ever talk of what I had seemed to see in his company,
+although he continued from time to time to visit me at night. But now
+our conversation was of other matters. As Bastin had discovered, by
+some extraordinary gift he had soon learned how to read the English
+language, although he never spoke a single word in that tongue. Among
+our reference books that we brought from the yacht, was a thin paper
+edition of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, which he borrowed when he
+discovered that it contained compressed information about the various
+countries of the world, also concerning almost every other matter. My
+belief is that within a month or so that marvelous old man not only
+read this stupendous work from end to end, but that he remembered
+everything of interest which it contained. At least, he would appear
+and show the fullest acquaintance with certain subjects or places,
+seeking further light from me concerning them, which very often I was
+quite unable to give him.
+
+An accident, as it chanced, whereof I need not set out the details,
+caused me to discover that his remarkable knowledge was limited. Thus,
+at one period, he knew little about any modern topic which began with a
+letter later in the alphabet than, let us say, C. A few days afterwards
+he was acquainted with those up to F, or G; and so on till he reached
+Z, when he appeared to me to know everything, and returned the book.
+Now, indeed, he was a monument of learning, very ancient and very new,
+and with some Encyclopedia-garnered facts or deductions of what had
+happened between.
+
+Moreover, he took to astronomical research, for more than once we saw
+him standing on the rock at night studying the heavens. On one of these
+occasions, when he had the two metal plates, of which I have spoken, in
+his hands, I ventured to approach and ask what he did. He replied that
+he was checking his calculations that he found to be quite correct, an
+exact period of two hundred and fifty thousand years having gone by
+since he laid himself down to sleep. Then, by aid of the plates, he
+pointed out to me certain alterations that had happened during that
+period in the positions of some of the stars.
+
+For instance, he showed me one which, by help of my glasses, I
+recognised as Sirius, and remarked that two hundred and fifty thousand
+years ago it was further away and much smaller. Now it was precisely in
+the place and of the size which he had predicted, and he pointed to it
+on his prophetic map. Again he indicated a star that the night-glass
+told me was Capella, which, I suppose, is one of the most brilliant
+stars in the sky, and showed me that on the map he had made two hundred
+and fifty thousand years ago, it did not exist, as then it was too far
+north to appear thereon. Still, he observed, the passage of this vast
+period of time had produced but little effect upon the face of the
+heavens. To the human eye the majority of the stars had not moved so
+very far.
+
+“And yet they travel fast, O Humphrey,” he said. “Consider then how
+great is their journey between the time they gather and that day when,
+worn-out, once more they melt to vaporous gas. You think me long-lived
+who compared to them exist but a tiny fraction of a second, nearly all
+of which I have been doomed to pass in sleep. And, Humphrey, I desire
+to live—I, who have great plans and would shake the world. But my day
+draws in; a few brief centuries and I shall be gone, and—whither,
+whither?”
+
+“If you lived as long as those stars, the end would be the same, Oro.”
+
+“Yes, but the life of the stars is very long, millions of millions of
+years; also, after death, they reform, as other stars. But shall I
+reform as another Oro? With all my wisdom, I do not know. It is known
+to Fate only—Fate-the master of worlds and men and the gods they
+worship—Fate, whom it may please to spill my gathered knowledge, to be
+lost in the sands of Time.”
+
+“It seems that you are great,” I said, “and have lived long and learned
+much. Yet the end of it is that your lot is neither worse nor better
+than that of us creatures of an hour.”
+
+“It is so, Humphrey. Presently you will die, and within a few centuries
+I shall die also and be as you are. You believe that you will live
+again eternally. It may be so because you _do_ believe, since Fate
+allows Faith to shape the future, if only for a little while. But in me
+Wisdom has destroyed Faith and therefore I must die. Even if I sleep
+again for tens of thousands of years, what will it help me, seeing that
+sleep is unconsciousness and that I shall only wake again to die, since
+sleep does not restore to us our youth?”
+
+He ceased, and walked up and down the rock with a troubled mien. Then
+he stood in front of me and said in a triumphant voice:
+
+“At least, while I live I will rule, and then let come what may come. I
+know that you do not believe, and the first victory of this new day of
+mine shall be to make you believe. I have great powers and you shall
+see them at work, and afterwards, if things go right, rule with me for
+a little while, perhaps, as the first of my subjects. Hearken now; in
+one small matter my calculations, made so long ago, have gone wrong.
+They showed me that at this time a day of earthquakes, such as those
+that again and again have rocked and split the world, would recur. But
+now it seems that there is an error, a tiny error of eleven hundred
+years, which must go by before those earthquakes come.”
+
+“Are you sure,” I suggested humbly, “that there is not also an error in
+those star-maps you hold?”
+
+“I am sure, Humphrey. Some day, who knows? You may return to your world
+of modern men who, I gather, have knowledge of the great science of
+astronomy. Take now these maps with which I have done, and submit them
+to the most learned of those men, and let them tell you whether I was
+right or wrong in what I wrote upon this metal two hundred and fifty
+thousand years ago. Whatever else is false, at least the stars in their
+motions can never die.”
+
+Then he handed me the maps and was gone. I have them today, and if ever
+this book is published, they will appear with it, that those who are
+qualified may judge of them and of the truth or otherwise of Oro’s
+words.
+
+From that night forward for quite a long time I saw Oro no more. Nor
+indeed did any of us, since for some reason of his own he forbade us to
+visit the underground city of Nyo. Oddly enough, however, he commanded
+Yva to bring down the spaniel, Tommy, to be with him from time to time.
+When I asked her why, she said it was because he was lonely and desired
+the dog’s companionship. It seemed to us very strange that this
+super-man, who had the wisdom of ten Solomons gathered in one within
+his breast, should yet desire the company of a little dog. What then
+was the worth of learning and long life, or, indeed, of anything? Well,
+Solomon himself asked the question ages since, and could give no answer
+save that all is vanity.
+
+I noted about this time that Yva began to grow very sad and troubled;
+indeed, looking at her suddenly on two or three occasions, I saw that
+her beautiful eyes were aswim with tears. Also, I noted that always as
+she grew sadder she became, in a sense, more human. In the beginning
+she was, as it were, far away. One could never forget that she was the
+child of some alien race whose eyes had looked upon the world when, by
+comparison, humanity was young; at times, indeed, she might have been
+the denizen of another planet, strayed to earth. Although she never
+flaunted it, one felt that her simplest word hid secret wisdom; that to
+her books were open in which we could not read. Moreover, as I have
+said, occasionally power flamed out of her, power that was beyond our
+ken and understanding.
+
+Yet with all this there was nothing elfish about her, nothing uncanny.
+She was always kind, and, as we could feel, innately good and
+gentle-hearted, just a woman made half-divine by gifts and experience
+that others lack. She did not even make use of her wondrous beauty to
+madden men, as she might well have done had she been so minded. It is
+true that both Bastin and Bickley fell in love with her, but that was
+only because all with whom she had to do must love her, and then, when
+she told them that it might not be, it was in such a fashion that no
+soreness was left behind. They went on loving her, that was all, but as
+men love their sisters or their daughters; as we conceive that they may
+love in that land where there is no marrying or giving in marriage.
+
+But now, in her sadness, she drew ever nearer to us, and especially to
+myself, more in tune with our age and thought. In truth, save for her
+royal and glittering loveliness in which there was some quality which
+proclaimed her of another blood, and for that reserve of hidden power
+which at times would look out of her eyes or break through her words,
+she might in most ways have been some singularly gifted and beautiful
+modern woman.
+
+The time has come when I must speak of my relations with Yva and of
+their climax. As may have been guessed, from the first I began to love
+her. While the weeks went on that love grew and grew, until it utterly
+possessed me, although for a certain reason connected with one dead, at
+first I fought against it. Yet it did not develop quite in the fashion
+that might have been expected. There was no blazing up of passion’s
+fire; rather was there an ever-increasing glow of the holiest
+affection, till at last it became a lamp by which I must guide my feet
+through life and death. This love of mine seemed not of earth but from
+the stars. As yet I had said nothing to her of it because in some way I
+felt that she did not wish me to do so, felt also that she was well
+aware of all that passed within my heart, and desired, as it were, to
+give it time to ripen there. Then one day there came a change, and
+though no glance or touch of Yva’s told me so, I knew that the bars
+were taken down and that I might speak.
+
+It was a night of full moon. All that afternoon she had been talking to
+Bastin apart, I suppose about religion, for I saw that he had some
+books in his hand from which he was expounding something to her in his
+slow, earnest way. Then she came and sat with us while we took our
+evening meal. I remember that mine consisted of some of the Life-water
+which she had brought with her and fruit, for, as I think I have said,
+I had acquired her dislike to meat, also that she ate some plantains,
+throwing the skins for Tommy to fetch and laughing at his play. When it
+was over, Bastin and Bickley went away together, whether by chance or
+design I do not know, and she said to me suddenly:
+
+“Humphrey, you have often asked me about the city Pani, of which a
+little portion of the ruins remains upon this island, the rest being
+buried beneath the waters. If you wish I will show you where our royal
+palace was before the barbarians destroyed it with their airships. The
+moon is very bright, and by it we can see.”
+
+I nodded, for, knowing what she meant, somehow I could not answer her,
+and we began the ascent of the hill. She explained to me the plan of
+the palace when we reached the ruins, showing me where her own
+apartments had been, and the rest. It was very strange to hear her
+quietly telling of buildings which had stood and of things that had
+happened over two hundred and fifty thousand years before, much as any
+modern lady might do of a house that had been destroyed a month ago by
+an earthquake or a Zeppelin bomb, while she described the details of a
+disaster which now frightened her no more. I think it was then that for
+the first time I really began to believe that in fact Yva had lived all
+those æons since and been as she still appeared.
+
+We passed from the palace to the ruins of the temple, through what, as
+she said, had been a pleasure-garden, pointing out where a certain
+avenue of rare palms had grown, down which once it was her habit to
+walk in the cool of the day. Or, rather, there were two terraced
+temples, one dedicated to Fate like that in the underground city of
+Nyo, and the other to Love. Of the temple to Fate she told me her
+father had been the High Priest, and of the temple to Love she was the
+High Priestess.
+
+Then it was that I understood why she had brought me here.
+
+She led the way to a marble block covered with worn-out carvings and
+almost buried in the debris. This, she said, was the altar of
+offerings. I asked her what offerings, and she replied with a smile:
+
+“Only wine, to signify the spirit of life, and flowers to symbolise its
+fragrance,” and she laid her finger on a cup-like depression, still
+apparent in the marble, into which the wine was poured.
+
+Indeed, I gathered that there was nothing coarse or bacchanalian about
+this worship of a prototype of Aphrodite; on the contrary, that it was
+more or less spiritual and ethereal. We sat down on the altar stone. I
+wondered a little that she should have done so, but she read my
+thought, and answered:
+
+“Sometimes we change our faiths, Humphrey, or perhaps they grow. Also,
+have I not told you that sacrifices were offered on this altar?” and
+she sighed and smiled.
+
+I do not know which was the sweeter, the smile or the sigh.
+
+We looked at the water glimmering in the crater beneath us on the edge
+of which we sat. We looked at heaven above in which the great moon
+sailed royally. Then we looked into each other’s eyes.
+
+“I love you,” I said.
+
+“I know it,” she answered gently. “You have loved me from the first,
+have you not? Even when I lay asleep in the coffin you began to love
+me, but until you dreamed a certain dream you would not admit it.”
+
+“Yva, what was the meaning of that dream?”
+
+“I cannot say, Humphrey. But I tell you this. As you will learn in
+time, one spirit may be clothed in different garments of the flesh.”
+
+I did not understand her, but, in some strange way, her words brought
+to my mind those that Natalie spoke at the last, and I answered:
+
+“Yva, when my wife lay dying she bade me seek her elsewhere, for
+certainly I should find her. Doubtless she meant beyond the shores of
+death—or perhaps she also dreamed.”
+
+She bent her head, looking at me very strangely.
+
+“Your wife, too, may have had the gift of dreams, Humphrey. As you
+dream and I dream, so mayhap she dreamed. Of dreams, then, let us say
+no more, since I think that they have served their purpose, and all
+three of us understand.”
+
+Then I stretched out my arms, and next instant my head lay upon her
+perfumed breast. She lifted it and kissed me on the lips, saying:
+
+“With this kiss again I give myself to you. But oh! Humphrey, do not
+ask too much of the god of my people, Fate,” and she looked me in the
+eyes and sighed.
+
+“What do you mean?” I asked, trembling.
+
+“Many, many things. Among them, that happiness is not for mortals, and
+remember that though my life began long ago, I am mortal as you are,
+and that in eternity time makes no difference.”
+
+“And if so, Yva, what then? Do we meet but to part?”
+
+“Who said it? Not I. Humphrey, I tell you this. Nor earth, nor heaven,
+nor hell have any bars through which love cannot burst its way towards
+reunion and completeness. Only there must be love, manifested in many
+shapes and at many times, but ever striving to its end, which is not of
+the flesh. Aye, love that has lost itself, love scorned, love defeated,
+love that seems false, love betrayed, love gone astray, love wandering
+through the worlds, love asleep and living in its sleep, love awake and
+yet sleeping; all love that has in it the germ of life. It matters not
+what form love takes. If it be true I tell you that it will win its
+way, and in the many that it has seemed to worship, still find the one,
+though perchance not here.”
+
+At her words a numb fear gripped my heart.
+
+“Not here? Then where?” I said.
+
+“Ask your dead wife, Humphrey. Ask the dumb stars. Ask the God you
+worship, for I cannot answer, save in one word—Somewhere! Man, be not
+afraid. Do you think that such as you and I can be lost in the aching
+abysms of space? I know but little, yet I tell you that we are its
+rulers. I tell you that we, too, are gods, if only we can aspire and
+believe. For the doubting and timid there is naught. For those who see
+with the eyes of the soul and stretch out their hands to grasp there is
+all. Even Bastin will tell you this.”
+
+“But,” I said, “life is short. Those worlds are far away, and you are
+near.”
+
+She became wonderful, mysterious.
+
+“Near I am far,” she said; “and far I am near, if only this love of
+yours is strong enough to follow and to clasp. And, Humphrey, it needs
+strength, for here I am afraid that it will bear little of such fruit
+as men desire to pluck.”
+
+Again terror took hold of me, and I looked at her, for I did not know
+what to say or ask.
+
+“Listen,” she went on. “Already my father has offered me to you in
+marriage, has he not, but at a price which you do not understand?
+Believe me, it is one that you should never pay, since the rule of the
+world can be too dearly bought by the slaughter of half the world. And
+if you would pay it, I cannot.”
+
+“But this is madness!” I exclaimed. “Your father has no powers over our
+earth.”
+
+“I would that I could think so, Humphrey. I tell you that he has powers
+and that it is his purpose to use them as he has done before. You, too,
+he would use, and me.”
+
+“And, if so, Yva, we are lords of ourselves. Let us take each other
+while we may. Bastin is a priest.”
+
+“Lords of ourselves! Why, for ought I know, at this very moment Oro
+watches us in his thought and laughs. Only in death, Humphrey, shall we
+pass beyond his reach and become lords of ourselves.”
+
+“It is monstrous!” I cried. “There is the boat, let us fly away.”
+
+“What boat can bear us out of stretch of the arm of the old god of my
+people, Fate, whereof Oro is the high priest? Nay, here we must wait
+our doom.”
+
+“Doom,” I said—“doom? What then is about to happen?”
+
+“A terrible thing, as I think, Humphrey. Or, rather, it will not
+happen.”
+
+“Why not, if it must?”
+
+“Beloved,” she whispered, “Bastin has expounded to me a new faith
+whereof the master-word is Sacrifice. The terrible thing will not
+happen _because of sacrifice!_ Ask me no more.”
+
+She mused a while, seated there in the moonlight upon the ancient altar
+of sacrifice, the veil she wore falling about her face and making her
+mysterious. Then she threw it back, showing her lovely eyes and
+glittering hair, and laughed.
+
+“We have still an earthly hour,” she said; “therefore let us forget the
+far, dead past and the eternities to come and be joyful in that hour.
+Now throw your arms about me and I will tell you strange stories of
+lost days, and you shall look into my eyes and learn wisdom, and you
+shall kiss my lips and taste of bliss—you, who were and are and shall
+be—you, the beloved of Yva from the beginning to the end of Time.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+The Command
+
+
+I think that both Bastin and Bickley, by instinct as it were, knew what
+had passed between Yva and myself and that she had promised herself to
+me. They showed this by the way in which they avoided any mention of
+her name. Also they began to talk of their own plans for the future as
+matters in which I had no part. Thus I heard them discussing the
+possibility of escape from the island whereof suddenly they seemed to
+have grown weary, and whether by any means two men (two, not three)
+could manage to sail and steer the lifeboat that remained upon the
+wreck. In short, as in all such cases, the woman had come between; also
+the pressure of a common loss caused them to forget their differences
+and to draw closer together. I who had succeeded where they both had
+failed, was, they seemed to think, out of their lives, so much that our
+ancient intimacy had ended.
+
+This attitude hurt me, perhaps because in many respects the situation
+was awkward. They had, it is true, taken their failures extremely well,
+still the fact remained that both of them had fallen in love with the
+wonderful creature, woman and yet more than woman, who had bound
+herself to me. How then could we go on living together, I in
+prospective possession of the object that all had desired, and they
+without the pale?
+
+Moreover, they were jealous in another and quite a different fashion
+because they both loved me in their own ways and were convinced that I
+who had hitherto loved them, henceforward should have no affection left
+to spare, since surely this Glittering Lady, this marvel of wisdom and
+physical perfections would take it all. Of course they were in error,
+since even if I could have been so base and selfish, this was no
+conduct that Yva would have wished or even suffered. Still that was
+their thought.
+
+Mastering the situation I reflected a little while and then spoke
+straight out to them.
+
+“My friends,” I said, “as I see that you have guessed, Yva and I are
+affianced to each other and love each other perfectly.”
+
+“Yes, Arbuthnot,” said Bastin, “we saw that in your face, and in hers
+as she bade us good night before she went into the cave, and we
+congratulate you and wish you every happiness.”
+
+“We wish you every happiness, old fellow,” chimed in Bickley. He paused
+a while, then added, “But to be honest, I am not sure that I
+congratulate you.”
+
+“Why not, Bickley?”
+
+“Not for the reason that you may suspect, Arbuthnot, I mean not because
+you have won where we have lost, as it was only to be expected that you
+would do, but on account of something totally different. I told you a
+while ago and repetition is useless and painful. I need only add
+therefore that since then my conviction has strengthened and I am sure,
+sorry as I am to say it, that in this matter you must prepare for
+disappointment and calamity. That woman, if woman she really is, will
+never be the wife of mortal man. Now be angry with me if you like, or
+laugh as you have the right to do, seeing that like Bastin and
+yourself, I also asked her to marry me, but something makes me speak
+what I believe to be the truth.”
+
+“Like Cassandra,” I suggested.
+
+“Yes, like Cassandra who was not a popular person.” At first I was
+inclined to resent Bickley’s words—who would not have been in the
+circumstances? Then of a sudden there rushed in upon my mind the
+conviction that he spoke the truth. In this world Yva was not for me or
+any man. Moreover she knew it, the knowledge peeped out of every word
+she spoke in our passionate love scene by the lake. She was aware, and
+subconsciously I was aware, that we were plighting our troth, not for
+time but for eternity. With time we had little left to do; not for long
+would she wear the ring I gave her on that holy night.
+
+Even Bastin, whose perceptions normally were not acute, felt that the
+situation was strained and awkward and broke in with a curious air of
+forced satisfaction:
+
+“It’s uncommonly lucky for you, old boy, that you happen to have a
+clergyman in your party, as I shall be able to marry you in a
+respectable fashion. Of course I can’t say that the Glittering Lady is
+as yet absolutely converted to our faith, but I am certain that she has
+absorbed enough of its principles to justify me in uniting her in
+Christian wedlock.”
+
+“Yes,” I answered, “she has absorbed its principles; she told me as
+much herself. Sacrifice, for instance,” and as I spoke the word my eyes
+filled with tears.
+
+“Sacrifice!” broke in Bickley with an angry snort, for he needed a vent
+to his mental disturbance. “Rubbish. Why should every religion demand
+sacrifice as savages do? By it alone they stand condemned.”
+
+“Because as I think, sacrifice is the law of life, at least of all life
+that is worth the living,” I answered sadly enough. “Anyhow I believe
+you are right, Bickley, and that Bastin will not be troubled to marry
+us.”
+
+“You don’t mean,” broke in Bastin with a horrified air, “that you
+propose to dispense—”
+
+“No, Bastin, I don’t mean that. What I mean is that it comes upon me
+that something will prevent this marriage. Sacrifice, perhaps, though
+in what shape I do not know. And now good night. I am tired.”
+
+That night in the chill dead hour before the dawn Oro came again. I
+woke up to see him seated by my bed, majestic, and, as it seemed to me,
+lambent, though this may have been my imagination.
+
+“You take strange liberties with my daughter, Barbarian, or she takes
+strange liberties with you, it does not matter which,” he said,
+regarding me with his calm and terrible eyes.
+
+“Why do you presume to call me Barbarian?” I asked, avoiding the main
+issue.
+
+“For this reason, Humphrey. All men are the same. They have the same
+organs, the same instincts, the same desires, which in essence are but
+two, food and rebirth that Nature commands; though it is true that
+millions of years before I was born, as I have learned from the records
+of the Sons of Wisdom, it was said that they were half ape. Yet being
+the same there is between them a whole sea of difference, since some
+have knowledge and others none, or little. Those who have none or
+little, among whom you must be numbered, are Barbarians. Those who have
+much, among whom my daughter and I are the sole survivors, are the
+Instructed.”
+
+“There are nearly two thousand millions of living people in this
+world,” I said, “and you name all of them Barbarians?”
+
+“All, Humphrey, excepting, of course, myself and my daughter who are
+not known to be alive. You think that you have learned much, whereas in
+truth you are most ignorant. The commonest of the outer nations, when I
+destroyed them, knew more than your wisest know today.”
+
+“You are mistaken, Oro; since then we have learned something of the
+soul.”
+
+“Ah!” he exclaimed, “that interests me and perhaps it is true. Also, if
+true it is very important, as I have told you before—or was it Bastin?
+If a man has a soul, he lives, whereas even we Sons of Wisdom die, and
+in Death what is the use of Wisdom? Because you can believe, you have
+souls and are therefore, perhaps, heirs to life, foolish and ignorant
+as you are today. Therefore I admit you and Bastin to be my equals,
+though Bickley, who like myself believes nothing, is but a common
+chemist and doctor of disease.”
+
+“Then you bow to Faith, Oro?”
+
+“Yes, and I think that my god Fate also bows to Faith. Perhaps, indeed,
+Faith shapes Fate, not Fate, Faith. But whence comes that faith which
+even I with all my learning cannot command? Why is it denied to me and
+given to you and Bastin?”
+
+“Because as Bastin would tell you, it is a gift, though one that is
+never granted to the proud and self-sufficient. Become humble as a
+child, Oro, and perchance you too may acquire faith.”
+
+“And how shall I become humble?”
+
+“By putting away all dreams of power and its exercise, if such you
+have, and in repentance walking quietly to the Gates of Death,” I
+replied.
+
+“For you, Humphrey, who have little or none of these things, that may
+be easy. But for me who have much, if not all, it is otherwise. You ask
+me to abandon the certain for the uncertain, the known for the unknown,
+and from a half-god communing with the stars, to become an earthworm
+crawling in mud and lifting blind eyes towards the darkness of
+everlasting night.”
+
+“A god who must die is no god, half or whole, Oro; the earthworm that
+lives on is greater than he.”
+
+“Mayhap. Yet while I endure I will be as a god, so that when night
+comes, if come it must, I shall have played my part and left my mark
+upon this little world of ours. Have done!” he added with a burst of
+impatience. “What will you of my daughter?”
+
+“What man has always willed of woman—herself, body and soul.”
+
+“Her soul perchance is yours, if she has one, but her body is mine to
+give or withhold. Yet it can be bought at a price,” he added slowly.
+
+“So she told me, Oro.”
+
+“I can guess what she told you. Did I not watch you yonder by the lake
+when you gave her a ring graved with the signs of Life and
+Everlastingness? The question is, will you pay the price?”
+
+“Not so; the question is—what is the price?”
+
+“This; to enter my service and henceforth do my will—without debate or
+cavil.”
+
+“For what reward, Oro?”
+
+“Yva and the dominion of the earth while you shall live, neither more
+nor less.”
+
+“And what is your will?”
+
+“That you shall learn in due course. On the second night from this I
+command the three of you to wait upon me at sundown in the buried halls
+of Nyo. Till then you see no more of Yva, for I do not trust her. She,
+too, has powers, though as yet she does not use them, and perchance she
+would forget her oaths, and following some new star of love, for a
+little while vanish with you out of my reach. Be in the sepulchre at
+the hour of sundown on the second day from this, all three of you, if
+you would continue to live upon the earth. Afterwards you shall learn
+my will and make your choice between Yva with majesty and her loss with
+death.”
+
+Then suddenly he was gone.
+
+Next morning I told the others what had passed, and we talked the
+matter over. The trouble was, of course, that Bickley did not believe
+me. He had no faith in my alleged interviews with Oro, which he set
+down to delusions of a semi-mesmeric character. This was not strange,
+since it appeared that on the previous night he had watched the door of
+my sleeping-place until dawn broke, which it did long after Oro had
+departed, and he had not seen him either come or go, although the moon
+was shining brightly.
+
+When he told me this I could only answer that all the same he had been
+there as, if he could speak, Tommy would have been able to certify. As
+it chanced the dog was sleeping with me and at the first sound of the
+approach of someone, woke up and growled. Then recognising Oro, he went
+to him, wagged his tail and curled himself up at his feet.
+
+Bastin believed my story readily enough, saying that Oro was a peculiar
+person who no doubt had ways of coming and going which we did not
+understand. His point was, however, that he did not in the least wish
+to visit Nyo any more. The wonders of its underground palaces and
+temples had no charms for him. Also he did not think he could do any
+good by going, since after “sucking him as dry as an orange” with
+reference to religious matters “that old vampire-bat Oro had just
+thrown him away like the rind,” and, he might add, “seemed no better
+for the juice he had absorbed.”
+
+“I doubt,” continued Bastin, “whether St. Paul himself could have
+converted Oro, even if he performed miracles before him. What is the
+use of showing miracles to a man who could always work a bigger one
+himself?”
+
+In short, Bastin’s one idea, and Bickley’s also for the matter of that,
+was to get away to the main island and thence escape by means of the
+boat, or in some other fashion.
+
+I pointed out that Oro had said we must obey at the peril of our lives;
+indeed that he had put it even more strongly, using words to the effect
+that if we did not he would kill us.
+
+“I’d take the risk,” said Bickley, “since I believe that you dreamt it
+all, Arbuthnot. However, putting that aside, there is a natural reason
+why you should wish to go, and for my own part, so do I in a way. I
+want to see what that old fellow has up his extremely long sleeve, if
+there is anything there at all.”
+
+“Well, if you ask me, Bickley,” I answered, “I believe it is the
+destruction of half the earth, or some little matter of that sort.”
+
+At this suggestion Bickley only snorted, but Bastin said cheerfully:
+
+“I dare say. He is bad enough even for that. But as I am quite
+convinced that it will never be allowed, his intentions do not trouble
+me.”
+
+I remarked that he seemed to have carried them out once before.
+
+“Oh! you mean the Deluge. Well, no doubt there was a deluge, but I am
+sure that Oro had no more to do with it than you or I, as I think I
+have said already. Anyhow it is impossible to leave you to descend into
+that hole alone. I suggest, therefore, that we should go into the
+sepulchre at the time which you believe Oro appointed, and see what
+happens. If you are not mistaken, the Glittering Lady will come there
+to fetch us, since it is quite certain that we cannot work the lift or
+whatever it is, alone. If you are mistaken we can just go back to bed
+as usual.”
+
+“Yes, that’s the best plan,” said Bickley, shortly, after which the
+conversation came to an end.
+
+All that day and the next I watched and waited in vain for the coming
+of Yva, but no Yva appeared. I even went as far as the sepulchre, but
+it was as empty as were the two crystal coffins, and after waiting a
+while I returned. Although I did not say so to Bickley, to me it was
+evident that Oro, as he had said, was determined to cut off all
+communication between us.
+
+The second day drew to its close. Our simple preparations were
+complete. They consisted mainly in making ready our hurricane lamps and
+packing up a little food, enough to keep us for three or four days if
+necessary, together with some matches and a good supply of oil, since,
+as Bastin put it, he was determined not to be caught like the foolish
+virgins in the parable.
+
+“You see,” he added, “one never knows when it might please that old
+wretch to turn off the incandescent gas or electric light, or whatever
+it is he uses to illumine his family catacombs, and then it would be
+awkward if we had no oil.”
+
+“For the matter of that he might steal our lamps,” suggested Bickley,
+“in which case we should be where Moses was when the light went out.”
+
+“I have considered that possibility,” answered Bastin, “and therefore,
+although it is a dangerous weapon to carry loaded, I am determined to
+take my revolver. If necessary I shall consider myself quite justified
+in shooting him to save our lives and those of thousands of others.”
+
+At this we both laughed; somehow the idea of Bastin trying to shoot Oro
+struck us as intensely ludicrous. Yet that very thing was to happen.
+
+It was a peculiarly beautiful sunset over the southern seas. To the
+west the great flaming orb sank into the ocean, to the east appeared
+the silver circle of the full moon. To my excited fancy they were like
+scales hanging from the hand of a materialised spirit of calm. Over the
+volcano and the lake, over the island with its palm trees, over the
+seas beyond, this calm brooded. Save for a few travelling birds the sky
+was empty; no cloud disturbed its peace; the world seemed steeped in
+innocence and quiet.
+
+All these things struck me, as I think they did the others, because by
+the action of some simultaneous thought it came to our minds that very
+probably we were looking on them for the last time. It is all very well
+to talk of the Unknown and the Infinite whereof we are assured we are
+the heirs, but that does not make it any easier for us to part with the
+Known and the Finite. The contemplation of the wonders of Eternity does
+not conceal the advantages of actual and existent Time. In short there
+is no one of us, from a sainted archbishop down to a sinful suicide,
+who does not regret the necessity of farewell to the pleasant light and
+the kindly race of men wherewith we are acquainted.
+
+For after all, who can be quite certain of the Beyond? It may be
+splendid, but it will probably be strange, and from strangeness, after
+a certain age, we shrink. We know that all things will be different
+there; that our human relationships will be utterly changed, that
+perhaps sex which shapes so many of them, will vanish to be replaced by
+something unknown, that ambitions will lose their hold of us, and that,
+at the best, the mere loss of hopes and fears will leave us empty. So
+at least we think, who seek not variation but continuance, since the
+spirit must differ from the body and that thought alarms our
+intelligence.
+
+At least some of us think so; others, like Bickley, write down the
+future as a black and endless night, which after all has its
+consolations since, as has been wisely suggested, perhaps oblivion is
+better than any memories. Others again, like Bastin, would say of it
+with the Frenchman, _plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose_. Yet
+others, like Oro, consider it as a realm of possibilities, probably
+unpleasant and perhaps non-existent; just this and nothing more. Only
+one thing is certain, that no creature which has life desires to leap
+into the fire and from the dross of doubts, to resolve the gold—or the
+lead—of certainty.
+
+“It is time to be going,” said Bastin. “In these skies the sun seems to
+tumble down, not to set decently as it does in England, and if we wait
+any longer we shall be late for our appointment in the sepulchre. I am
+sorry because although I don’t often notice scenery, everything looks
+rather beautiful this evening. That star, for instance, I think it is
+called Venus.”
+
+“And therefore one that Arbuthnot should admire,” broke in Bickley,
+attempting to lighten matters with a joke. “But come on and let us be
+rid of this fool’s errand. Certainly the world is a lovely place after
+all, and for my part I hope that we haven’t seen the last of it,” he
+added with a sigh.
+
+“So do I,” said Bastin, “though of course, Faith teaches us that there
+are much better ones beyond. It is no use bothering about what they are
+like, but I hope that the road to them doesn’t run through the hole
+that the old reprobate, Oro, calls Nyo.”
+
+A few minutes later we started, each of us carrying his share of the
+impedimenta. I think that Tommy was the only really cheerful member of
+the party, for he skipped about and barked, running backwards and
+forwards into the mouth of the cave, as though to hurry our movements.
+
+“Really,” said Bastin, “it is quite unholy to see an animal going on in
+that way when it knows that it is about to descend into the bowels of
+the earth. I suppose it must like them.”
+
+“Oh! no,” commented Bickley, “it only likes what is in them—like
+Arbuthnot. Since that little beast came in contact with the Lady Yva,
+it has never been happy out of her company.”
+
+“I think that is so,” said Bastin. “At any rate I have noticed that it
+has been moping for the last two days, as it always does when she is
+not present. It even seems to like Oro who gives me the creeps, perhaps
+because he is her father. Dogs must be very charitable animals.”
+
+By now we were in the cave marching past the wrecks of the half-buried
+flying-machines, which Bickley, as he remarked regretfully, had never
+found time thoroughly to examine. Indeed, to do so would have needed
+more digging than we could do without proper instruments, since the
+machines were big and deeply entombed in dust.
+
+We came to the sepulchre and entered.
+
+“Well,” said Bickley, seating himself on the edge of one of the coffins
+and holding up his lamp to look about him, “this place seems fairly
+empty. No one is keeping the assignation, Arbuthnot, although the sun
+is well down.”
+
+As he spoke the words Yva stood before us. Whence she came we did not
+see, for all our backs were turned at the moment of her arrival. But
+there she was, calm, beautiful, radiating light.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+In the Temple of Fate
+
+
+Yva glanced at me, and in her eyes I read tenderness and solicitude,
+also something of inquiry. It seemed to me as though she were wondering
+what I should do under circumstances that might, or would, arise, and
+in some secret fashion of which I was but half conscious, drawing an
+answer from my soul. Then she turned, and, smiling in her dazzling way,
+said:
+
+“So, Bickley, as usual, you did not believe? Because _you_ did not see
+him, therefore the Lord Oro, my father, never spoke with Humphrey. As
+though the Lord Oro could not pass you without your knowledge, or,
+perchance, send thoughts clothed in his own shape to work his errand.”
+
+“How do you know that I did not believe Arbuthnot’s story?” Bickley
+asked in a rather cross voice and avoiding the direct issue. “Do you
+also send thoughts to work _your_ errands clothed in your own shape,
+Lady Yva?”
+
+“Alas! not so, though perhaps I could if I might. It is very simple,
+Bickley. Standing here, I heard you say that although the sun was well
+down there was no one to meet you as Humphrey had expected, and from
+those words and your voice I guessed the rest.”
+
+“Your knowledge of the English language is improving fast, Lady Yva.
+Also, when I spoke, you were not here.”
+
+“At least I was very near, Bickley, and these walls are thinner than
+you think,” she answered, contemplating what seemed to be solid rock
+with eyes that were full of innocence. “Oh! friend,” she went on
+suddenly, “I wonder what there is which will cause you to believe that
+you do not know all; that there exist many things beyond the reach of
+your learning and imagination? Well, in a day or two, perhaps, even you
+will admit as much, and confess it to me—elsewhere,” and she sighed.
+
+“I am ready to confess now that much happens which I do not understand
+at present, because I have not the key to the trick,” he replied.
+
+Yva shook her head at him and smiled again. Then she motioned to all of
+us to stand close to her, and, stooping, lifted Tommy in her arms. Next
+moment that marvel happened which I have described already, and we were
+whirling downwards through space, to find ourselves in a very little
+time standing safe in the caves of Nyo, breathless with the swiftness
+of our descent. How and on what we descended neither I nor the others
+ever learned. It was and must remain one of the unexplained mysteries
+of our great experience.
+
+“Whither now, Yva?” I asked, staring about me at the radiant vastness.
+
+“The Lord Oro would speak with you, Humphrey. Follow. And I pray you
+all do not make him wrath, for his mood is not gentle.”
+
+So once more we proceeded down the empty streets of that underground
+abode which, except that it was better illuminated, reminded me of the
+Greek conception of Hades. We came to the sacred fountain over which
+stood the guardian statue of Life, pouring from the cups she held the
+waters of Good and Ill that mingled into one health-giving wine.
+
+“Drink, all of you,” she said; “for I think before the sun sets again
+upon the earth we shall need strength, every one of us.”
+
+So we drank, and she drank herself, and once more felt the blood go
+dancing through our veins as though the draught had been some nectar of
+the gods. Then, having extinguished the lanterns which we still
+carried, for here they were needless, and we wished to save our oil, we
+followed her through the great doors into the vast hall of audience and
+advanced up it between the endless, empty seats. At its head, on the
+dais beneath the arching shell, sat Oro on his throne. As before, he
+wore the jewelled cap and the gorgeous, flowing robes, while the table
+in front of him was still strewn with sheets of metal on which he wrote
+with a pen, or stylus, that glittered like a diamond or his own fierce
+eyes. Then he lifted his head and beckoned to us to ascend the dais.
+
+“You are here. It is well,” he said, which was all his greeting. Only
+when Tommy ran up to him he bent down and patted the dog’s head with
+his long, thin hand, and, as he did so, his face softened. It was
+evident to me that Tommy was more welcome to him than were the rest of
+us.
+
+There was a long silence while, one by one, he searched us with his
+piercing glance. It rested on me, the last of the three of us, and from
+me travelled to Yva.
+
+“I wonder why I have sent for you?” he said at length, with a mirthless
+laugh. “I think it must be that I may convince Bickley, the sceptic,
+that there are powers which he does not understand, but that I have the
+strength to move. Also, perhaps, that your lives may be spared for my
+own purposes in that which is about to happen. Hearken! My labours are
+finished; my calculations are complete,” and he pointed to the sheets
+of metal before him that were covered with cabalistic signs. “Tomorrow
+I am about to do what once before I did and to plunge half the world in
+the deeps of ocean and lift again from the depths that which has been
+buried for a quarter of a million years.”
+
+“Which half?” asked Bickley.
+
+“That is my secret, Physician, and the answer to it lies written here
+in signs you cannot read. Certain countries will vanish, others will be
+spared. I say that it is my secret.”
+
+“Then, Oro, if you could do what you threaten, you would drown hundreds
+of millions of people.”
+
+“If I could do! If I could do!” he exclaimed, glaring at Bickley.
+“Well, tomorrow you shall see what I can do. Oh! why do I grow angry
+with this fool? For the rest, yes, they must drown. What does it
+matter? Their end will be swift; some few minutes of terror, that is
+all, and in one short century every one of them would have been dead.”
+
+An expression of horror gathered on Bastin’s face.
+
+“Do you really mean to murder hundreds of millions of people?” he
+asked, in a thick, slow voice.
+
+“I have said that I intend to send them to that heaven or that hell of
+which you are so fond of talking, Preacher, somewhat more quickly than
+otherwise they would have found their way thither. They have
+disappointed me, they have failed; therefore, let them go and make room
+for others who will succeed.”
+
+“Then you are a greater assassin than any that the world has bred, or
+than all of them put together. There is nobody as bad, even in the Book
+of Revelation!” shouted Bastin, in a kind of fury. “Moreover, I am not
+like Bickley. I know enough of you and your hellish powers to believe
+that what you plan, that you can do.”
+
+“I believe it also,” sneered Oro. “But how comes it that the Great One
+whom you worship does not prevent the deed, if He exists, and it be
+evil?”
+
+“He _will_ prevent it!” raved Bastin. “Even now He commands me to
+prevent it, and I obey!” Then, drawing the revolver from his pocket, he
+pointed it at Oro’s breast, adding: “Swear not to commit this crime, or
+I will kill you!”
+
+“So the man of peace would become a man of blood,” mused Oro, “and kill
+that _I_ may not kill for the good of the world? Why, what is the
+matter with that toy of yours, Preacher?” and he pointed to the pistol.
+
+Well might he ask, for as he spoke the revolver flew out of Bastin’s
+hand. High into the air it flew, and as it went discharged itself, all
+the six chambers of it, in rapid succession, while Bastin stood staring
+at his arm and hand which he seemed unable to withdraw.
+
+“Do you still threaten me with that outstretched hand, Preacher?”
+mocked Oro.
+
+“I can’t move it,” said Bastin; “it seems turned to stone.”
+
+“Be thankful that you also are not turned to stone. But, because your
+courage pleases me, I will spare you, yes, and will advance you in my
+New Kingdom. What shall you be? Controller of Religions, I think, since
+all the qualities that a high priest should have are yours—faith,
+fanaticism and folly.”
+
+“It is very strange,” said Bastin, “but all of a sudden my arm and hand
+are quite well again. I suppose it must have been ‘pins and needles’ or
+something of that sort which made me throw away the pistol and pull the
+trigger when I didn’t mean to do so.”
+
+Then he went to fetch that article which had fallen beyond the dais,
+and quite forgot his intention of executing Oro in the interest of
+testing its mechanism, which proved to be destroyed. To his proposed
+appointment he made no illusion. If he comprehended what was meant,
+which I doubt, he took it as a joke.
+
+“Hearken all of you,” said Oro, lifting his head suddenly, for while
+Bastin recovered the revolver he had been brooding. “The great thing
+which I shall do tomorrow must be witnessed by you because thereby only
+can you come to understand my powers. Also yonder where I bring it
+about in the bowels of the earth, you will be safer than elsewhere,
+since when and perhaps before it happens, the whole world will heave
+and shake and tremble, and I know not what may chance, even in these
+caves. For this reason also, do not forget to bring the little hound
+with you, since him least of all of you would I see come to harm,
+perhaps because once, hundreds of generations ago as you reckon time, I
+had a dog very like to him. Your mother loved him much, Yva, and when
+she died, this dog died also. He lies embalmed with her on her coffin
+yonder in the temple, and yesterday I went to look at both of them. The
+beasts are wonderfully alike, which shows the everlastingness of
+blood.”
+
+He paused a while, lost in thought, then continued: “After the deed is
+done I’ll speak with you and you shall choose, Strangers, whether you
+will die your own masters, or live on to serve me. Now there is one
+problem that is left to me to solve—whether I can save a certain
+land—do not ask which it is, Humphrey, though I see the question in
+your eyes—or must let it go with the rest. I only answer you that I
+will do my best because you love it. So farewell for a while, and,
+Preacher, be advised by me and do not aim too high again.”
+
+“It doesn’t matter where I aim,” answered Bastin sturdily, “or whether
+I hit or miss, since there is something much bigger than me waiting to
+deal with you. The countries that you think you are going to destroy
+will sleep quite as well tomorrow as they do tonight, Oro.”
+
+“Much better, I think, Preacher, since by then they will have left
+sorrow and pain and wickedness and war far behind them.”
+
+“Where are we to go?” I asked.
+
+“The Lady Yva will show you,” he answered, waving his hand, and once
+more bent over his endless calculations.
+
+Yva beckoned to us and we turned and followed her down the hall. She
+led us to a street near the gateway of the temple and thence into one
+of the houses. There was a portico to it leading to a court out of
+which opened rooms somewhat in the Pompeian fashion. We did not enter
+the rooms, for at the end of the court were a metal table and three
+couches also of metal, on which were spread rich-looking rugs. Whence
+these came I do not know and never asked, but I remember that they were
+very beautiful and soft as velvet.
+
+“Here you may sleep,” she said, “if sleep you can, and eat of the food
+that you have brought with you. Tomorrow early I will call you when it
+is time for us to start upon our journey into the bowels of the earth.”
+
+“I don’t want to go any deeper than we are,” said Bastin doubtfully.
+
+“I think that none of us want to go, Bastin,” she answered with a sigh.
+“Yet go we must. I pray of you, anger the Lord Oro no more on this or
+any other matter. In your folly you tried to kill him, and as it
+chanced he bore it well because he loves courage. But another time he
+may strike back, and then, Bastin—”
+
+“I am not afraid of him,” he answered, “but I do not like tunnels.
+Still, perhaps it would be better to accompany you than to be left in
+this place alone. Now I will unpack the food.”
+
+Yva turned to go.
+
+“I must leave you,” she said, “since my father needs my help. The
+matter has to do with the Force that he would let loose tomorrow, and
+its measurements; also with the preparation of the robes that we must
+wear lest it should harm us in its leap.”
+
+Something in her eyes told me that she wished me to follow her, and I
+did so. Outside the portico where we stood in the desolate, lighted
+street, she halted.
+
+“If you are not afraid,” she said, “meet me at midnight by the statue
+of Fate in the great temple, for I would speak with you, Humphrey,
+where, if anywhere, we may be alone.”
+
+“I will come, Yva.”
+
+“You know the road, and the gates are open, Humphrey.”
+
+Then she gave me her hand to kiss and glided away. I returned to the
+others and we ate, somewhat sparingly, for we wished to save our food
+in case of need, and having drunk of the Life-water, were not hungry.
+Also we talked a little, but by common consent avoided the subject of
+the morrow and what it might bring forth.
+
+We knew that terrible things were afoot, but lacking any knowledge of
+what these might be, thought it useless to discuss them. Indeed we were
+too depressed, so much so that even Bastin and Bickley ceased from
+arguing. The latter was so overcome by the exhibition of Oro’s powers
+when he caused the pistol to leap into the air and discharge itself,
+that he could not even pluck up courage to laugh at the failure of
+Bastin’s efforts to do justice on the old Super-man, or rather to
+prevent him from attempting a colossal crime.
+
+At length we lay down on the couches to rest, Bastin remarking that he
+wished he could turn off the light, also that he did not in the least
+regret having tried to kill Oro. Sleep seemed to come to the others
+quickly, but I could only doze, to wake up from time to time. Of this I
+was not sorry, since whenever I dropped off dreams seemed to pursue me.
+For the most part they were of my dead wife. She appeared to be trying
+to console me for some loss, but the strange thing was that sometimes
+she spoke with her own voice and sometimes with Yva’s, and sometimes
+looked at me with her own eyes and sometimes with those of Yva. I
+remember nothing else about these dreams, which were very confused.
+
+After one of them, the most vivid of all, I awoke and looked at my
+watch. It was half-past eleven, almost time for me to be starting. The
+other two seemed to be fast asleep. Presently I rose and crept down the
+court without waking them. Outside the portico, which by the way was a
+curious example of the survival of custom in architecture, since none
+was needed in that weatherless place, I turned to the right and
+followed the wide street to the temple enclosure. Through the pillared
+courts I went, my footsteps, although I walked as softly as I could,
+echoing loudly in that intense silence, through the great doors into
+the utter solitude of the vast and perfect fane.
+
+Words can not tell the loneliness of that place. It flowed over me like
+a sea and seemed to swallow up my being, so that even the wildest and
+most dangerous beast would have been welcome as a companion. I was as
+terrified as a child that wakes to find itself deserted in the dark.
+Also an uncanny sense of terrors to come oppressed me, till I could
+have cried aloud if only to hear the sound of a mortal voice. Yonder
+was the grim statue of Fate, the Oracle of the Kings of the Sons of
+Wisdom, which was believed to bow its stony head in answer to their
+prayers. I ran to it, eager for its terrible shelter, for on either
+side of it were figures of human beings. Even their cold marble was
+company of a sort, though alas! over all frowned Fate.
+
+Let anyone imagine himself standing alone beneath the dome of St.
+Paul’s; in the centre of that cathedral brilliant with mysterious
+light, and stretched all about it a London that had been dead and
+absolutely unpeopled for tens of thousands of years. If he can do this
+he will gather some idea of my physical state. Let him add to his
+mind-picture a knowledge that on the following day something was to
+happen not unlike the end of the world, as prognosticated by the Book
+of Revelation and by most astronomers, and he will have some idea of my
+mental perturbations. Add to the mixture a most mystic yet very real
+love affair and an assignation before that symbol of the cold fate
+which seems to sway the universes down to the tiniest detail of
+individual lives, and he may begin to understand what I, Humphrey
+Arbuthnot, experienced during my vigil in this sanctuary of a vanished
+race.
+
+It seemed long before Yva came, but at last she did come. I caught
+sight of her far away beyond the temple gate, flitting through the
+unholy brightness of the pillared courts like a white moth at night and
+seeming quite as small. She approached; now she was as a ghost, and
+then drawing near, changed into a living, breathing, lovely woman. I
+opened my arms, and with something like a sob she sank into them and we
+kissed as mortals do.
+
+“I could not come more quickly,” she said. “The Lord Oro needed me, and
+those calculations were long and difficult. Also twice he must visit
+the place whither we shall go tomorrow, and that took time.”
+
+“Then it is close at hand?” I said.
+
+“Humphrey, be not foolish. Do you not remember, who have travelled with
+him, that Oro can throw his soul afar and bring it back again laden
+with knowledge, as the feet of a bee are laden with golden dust? Well,
+he went and went again, and I must wait. And then the robes and
+shields; they must be prepared by his arts and mine. Oh! ask not what
+they are, there is no time to tell, and it matters nothing. Some folk
+are wise and some are foolish, but all which matters is that within
+them flows the blood of life and that life breeds love, and that love,
+as I believe, although Oro does not, breeds immortality. And if so,
+what is Time but as a grain of sand upon the shore?”
+
+“This, Yva; it is ours, who can count on nothing else.”
+
+“Oh! Humphrey, if I thought that, no more wretched creature would
+breathe tonight upon this great world.”
+
+“What do you mean?” I asked, growing fearful, more at her manner and
+her look than at her words.
+
+“Nothing, nothing, except that Time is so very short. A kiss, a touch,
+a little light and a little darkness, and it is gone. Ask my father Oro
+who has lived a thousand years and slept for tens of thousands, as I
+have, and he will say the same. It is against Time that he fights; he
+who, believing in nothing beyond, will inherit nothing, as Bastin says;
+he to whom Time has brought nothing save a passing, blood-stained
+greatness, and triumph ending in darkness and disaster, and hope that
+will surely suffer hope’s eclipse, and power that must lay down its
+coronet in dust.”
+
+“And what has it brought to you, Yva, beyond a fair body and a soul of
+strength?”
+
+“It has brought a spirit, Humphrey. Between them the body and the soul
+have bred a spirit, and in the fires of tribulation from that spirit
+has been distilled the essence of eternal love. That is Time’s gift to
+me, and therefore, although still he rules me here, I mock at Fate,”
+and she waved her hand with a gesture of defiance at the stern-faced,
+sexless effigy which sat above us, the sword across its knees.
+
+“Look! Look!” she went on in a swelling voice of music, pointing to the
+statues of the dotard and the beauteous woman. “They implore Fate, they
+worship Fate. _I_ do not implore, _I_ do not worship or ask a sign as
+even Oro does and as did his forefathers. _I_ rise above and triumph.
+As Fate, the god of my people, sets his foot upon the sun, so I set my
+foot upon Fate, and thence, like a swimmer from a rock, leap into the
+waters of Immortality.”
+
+I looked at her whose presence, as happened from time to time, had
+grown majestic beyond that of woman; I studied her deep eyes which were
+full of lights, not of this world, and I grew afraid.
+
+“What do you mean?” I asked. “Yva, you talk like one who has finished
+with life.”
+
+“It passes,” she answered quickly. “Life passes like breath fading from
+a mirror. So should all talk who breathe beneath the sun.”
+
+“Yes, Yva, but if you went and left me still breathing on that mocking
+glass—”
+
+“If so, what of it? Will not your breath fade also and join mine where
+all vapours go? Or if it were yours that faded and mine that remained
+for some few hours, is it not the same? I think, Humphrey, that already
+you have seen a beloved breath melt from the glass of life,” she added,
+looking at me earnestly.
+
+I bowed my head and answered:
+
+“Yes, and therefore I am ashamed.”
+
+“Oh! why should you be ashamed, Humphrey, who are not sure but that two
+breaths may yet be one breath? How do you know that there is a
+difference between them?”
+
+“You drive me mad, Yva. I cannot understand.”
+
+“Nor can I altogether, Humphrey. Why should I, seeing that I am no more
+than woman, as you are no more than man? I would always have you
+remember, Humphrey, that I am no spirit or sorceress, but just a
+woman—like her you lost.”
+
+I looked at her doubtfully and answered:
+
+“Women do not sleep for two hundred thousand years. Women do not take
+dream journeys to the stars. Women do not make the dead past live again
+before the watcher’s eyes. Their hair does not glimmer in the dusk nor
+do their bodies gleam, nor have they such strength of soul or eyes so
+wonderful, or loveliness so great.”
+
+These words appeared to distress her who, as it seemed to me, was above
+all things anxious to prove herself woman and no more.
+
+“All these qualities are nothing, Humphrey,” she cried. “As for the
+beauty, such as it is, it comes to me with my blood, and with it the
+glitter of my hair which is the heritage of those who for generations
+have drunk of the Life-water. My mother was lovelier than I, as was her
+mother, or so I have heard, since only the fairest were the wives of
+the Kings of the Children of Wisdom. For the rest, such arts as I have
+spring not from magic, but from knowledge which your people will
+acquire in days to come, that is, if Oro spares them. Surely you above
+all should know that I am only woman,” she added very slowly and
+searching my face with her eyes.
+
+“Why, Yva? During the little while that we have been together I have
+seen much which makes me doubt. Even Bickley the sceptic doubts also.”
+
+“I will tell you, though I am not sure that you will believe me.” She
+glanced about her as though she were frightened lest someone should
+overhear her words or read her thoughts. Then she stretched out her
+hands and drawing my head towards her, put her lips to my ear and
+whispered:
+
+“Because once you saw me _die_, as women often die—giving life for
+life.”
+
+“I saw _you_ die?” I gasped.
+
+She nodded, then continued to whisper in my ear, not in her own voice,
+but another’s:
+
+“_Go where you seem called to go, far away. Oh! the wonderful place in
+which you will find me, not knowing that you have found me. Good-bye
+for a little while; only for a little while, my own, my own!_”
+
+I knew the voice as I knew the words, and knowing, I think that I
+should have fallen to the ground, had she not supported me with her
+strong arms.
+
+“Who told you?” I stammered. “Was it Bickley or Bastin? They knew,
+though neither of them heard those holy words.”
+
+“Not Bickley nor Bastin,” she answered, shaking her head, “no, nor you
+yourself, awake or sleeping, though once, by the lake yonder, you said
+to me that when a certain one lay dying, she bade you seek her
+elsewhere, for certainly you would find her. Humphrey, I cannot say who
+told me those words because I do not know. _I think they are a memory,
+Humphrey!_”
+
+“That would mean that you, Yva, are the same as one who was—not called
+Yva.”
+
+“The same as one who was called _Natalie_, Humphrey,” she replied in
+solemn accents. “One whom you loved and whom you lost.”
+
+“Then you think that we live again upon this earth?”
+
+“Again and yet again, until the time comes for us to leave the earth
+for ever. Of this, indeed, I am sure, for that knowledge was part of
+the secret wisdom of my people.”
+
+“But you were not dead. You only slept.”
+
+“The sleep was a death-sleep which went by like a flash, yes, in an
+instant, or so it seemed. Only the shell of the body remained preserved
+by mortal arts, and when the returning spirit and the light of life
+were poured into it again, it awoke. But during this long death-sleep,
+that spirit may have spoken through other lips and that light may have
+shone through other eyes, though of these I remember nothing.”
+
+“Then that dream of our visit to a certain star may be no dream?”
+
+“I think no dream, and you, too, have thought as much.”
+
+“In a way, yes, Yva. But I could not believe and turned from what I
+held to be a phantasy.”
+
+“It was natural, Humphrey, that you should not believe. Hearken! In
+this temple a while ago I showed you a picture of myself and of a man
+who loved me and whom I loved, and of his death at Oro’s hands. Did you
+note anything about that man?”
+
+“Bickley did,” I answered. “Was he right?”
+
+“I think that he was right, since otherwise I should not have loved
+you, Humphrey.”
+
+“I remember nothing of that man, Yva.”
+
+“It is probable that you would not, since you and he are very far
+apart, while between you and him flow wide seas of death, wherein are
+set islands of life; perhaps many of them. But I remember much who seem
+to have left him but a very little while ago.”
+
+“When you awoke in your coffin and threw your arms about me, what did
+you think, Yva?”
+
+“I thought _you_ were that man, Humphrey.”
+
+There was silence between us and in that silence the truth came home to
+me. Then there before the effigy of Fate and in the desolate, glowing
+temple we plighted anew our troth made holy by a past that thus so
+wonderfully lived again.
+
+Of this consecrated hour I say no more. Let each picture it as he will.
+A glory as of heaven fell upon us and in it we dwelt a space.
+
+“Beloved,” she whispered at length in a voice that was choked as though
+with tears, “if it chances that we should be separated again for a
+little while, you will not grieve over much?”
+
+“Knowing all I should try not to grieve, Yva, seeing that in truth we
+never can be parted. But do you mean that I shall die?”
+
+“Being mortal either of us might seem to die, Humphrey,” and she bent
+her head as though to hide her face. “You know we go into dangers this
+day.”
+
+“Does Oro really purpose to destroy much of the world and has he in
+truth the power, Yva?”
+
+“He does so purpose and most certainly he has the power, unless—unless
+some other Power should stay his hand.”
+
+“What other power, Yva?”
+
+“Oh! perhaps that which you worship, that which is called Love. The
+love of man may avert the massacre of men. I hope so with all my heart.
+Hist! Oro comes. I feel, I know that he comes, though not in search of
+us who are very far from his thought tonight. Follow me. Swiftly.”
+
+She sped across the temple to where a chapel opened out of it, which
+was full of the statues of dead kings, for here was the entrance to
+their burial vault. We reached it and hid behind the base of one of
+these statues. By standing to our full height, without being seen we
+still could see between the feet of the statue that stood upon a
+pedestal.
+
+Then Oro came.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+The Chariot of the Pit
+
+
+Oro came and of necessity alone. Yet there was that in his air as he
+advanced into the temple, which suggested a monarch surrounded by the
+pomp and panoply of a great court. He marched, his head held high, as
+though heralds and pursuivants went in front of him, as though nobles
+surrounded him and guards or regiments followed after him. Let it be
+admitted that he was a great figure in his gorgeous robes, with his
+long white beard, his hawk-like features, his tall shape and his
+glittering eyes, which even at that distance I could see. Indeed once
+or twice I thought that he glanced out of the corners of them towards
+the chapel where we were hid. But this I think was fancy. For as Yva
+said, his thoughts were set elsewhere.
+
+He reached the statue of Fate and stood for a while contemplating it
+and the suppliant figures on either side, as though he were waiting for
+his invisible court to arrange itself. Then he doffed his jewelled cap
+to the effigy, and knelt before it. Yes, Oro the Ancient, the
+Super-man, the God, as the early peoples of the earth fancied such a
+being, namely, one full of wrath, revenge, jealousy, caprice and power,
+knelt in supplication to this image of stone which he believed to be
+the home of a spirit, thereby showing himself to be after all not so
+far removed from the savages whose idol Bastin had destroyed. More, in
+a clear and resonant voice which reached us even across that great
+space, he put up his prayer. It ran something as follows, for although
+I did not understand the language in which he spoke Yva translated it
+to me in a whisper:
+
+“God of the Sons of Wisdom, God of the whole earth, only God to whom
+must bow every other Power and Dominion, to thee I, Oro the Great King,
+make prayer and offer sacrifice. Twenty times ten thousand years and
+more have gone by since I, Oro, visited this, thy temple and knelt
+before this, thy living effigy, yet thou, ruler of the world, dost
+remember the prayer I made and the sacrifice I offered. The prayer was
+for triumph over my enemies and the sacrifice a promise of the lives of
+half of those who in that day dwelt upon the earth. Thou heardest the
+prayer, thou didst bow thy head and accept the sacrifice. Yea, the
+prayer was granted and the sacrifice was made, and in it were counted
+the number of my foes.
+
+“Then I slept. Through countless generations I slept on and at my side
+was the one child of my body that was left to me. What chanced to my
+spirit and to hers during that sleep, thou knowest alone, but doubtless
+they went forth to work thy ends.
+
+“At the appointed time which thou didst decree, I awoke again and found
+in my house strangers from another land. In the company of one of those
+whose spirit I drew forth, I visited the peoples of the new earth, and
+found them even baser and more evil than those whom I had known.
+Therefore, since they cannot be bettered. I purpose to destroy them
+also, and on their wreck to rebuild a glorious empire, such as was that
+of the Sons of Wisdom at its prime.
+
+“A sign! O Fate, ruler of the world, give me a sign that my desire
+shall be fulfilled.”
+
+He paused, stretching out his arms and staring upwards. While he waited
+I felt the solid rock on which I stood quiver and sway beneath my feet
+so that Yva and I clung to each other lest we should fall. This chanced
+also. The shock of the earth tremor, for such without doubt it was,
+threw down the figures of the ancient man and the lovely woman which
+knelt as though making prayers to Fate, and shook the marble sword from
+off its knees. As it fell Oro caught it by the hilt, and, rising, waved
+it in triumph.
+
+“I thank thee, God of my people from the beginning,” he cried. “Thou
+hast given to me, thy last servant, thine own sword and I will use it
+well. For these worshippers of thine who have fallen, thou shalt have
+others, yes, all those who dwell in the new world that is to be. My
+daughter and the man whom she has chosen to be the father of the kings
+of the earth, and with him his companions, shall be the first of the
+hundreds of millions that are to follow, for they shall kiss thy feet
+or perish. Thou shalt set thy foot upon the necks of all other gods;
+thou shalt rule and thou alone, and, as of old, Oro be thy minister.”
+
+Still holding the sword, he flung himself down as though in an ecstasy,
+and was silent.
+
+“I read the omen otherwise,” whispered Yva. “The worshippers of Fate
+are overthrown. His sword of power is fallen, but not into the hands
+that clasped it, and he totters on his throne. A greater God asserts
+dominion of the world and this Fate is but his instrument.”
+
+Oro rose again.
+
+“One prayer more,” he cried. “Give me life, long life, that I may
+execute thy decrees. By word or gesture show me a sign that I shall be
+satisfied with life, a year for every year that I have lived, or
+twain!”
+
+He waited, staring about him, but no token came; the idol did not speak
+or bow its head, as Yva had told me it was wont to do in sign of
+accepted prayer, how, she knew not. Only I thought I heard the echo of
+Oro’s cries run in a whisper of mockery round the soaring dome.
+
+Once more Oro flung himself upon his knees and began to pray in a
+veritable agony.
+
+“God of my forefathers, God of my lost people, I will hide naught from
+thee,” he said. “I who fear nothing else, fear death. The priest-fool
+yonder with his new faith, has spoken blundering words of judgment and
+damnation which, though I do not believe them, yet stick in my heart
+like arrows. I will stamp out his faith, and with this ancient sword of
+thine drive back the new gods into the darkness whence they came. Yet
+what if some water of Truth flows through the channel of his leaden
+lips, and what if because I have ruled and will rule as thou didst
+decree, therefore, in some dim place of souls, I must bear these
+burdens of terror and of doom which I have bound upon the backs of
+others! Nay, it cannot be, for what power is there in all the universe
+that dares to make a slave of Oro and to afflict him with stripes?
+
+“Yet this can be and mayhap will be, that presently I lose my path in
+the ways of everlasting darkness, and become strengthless and forgotten
+as are those who went before me, while my crown of Power shines on
+younger brows. Alas! I grow old, since æons of sleep have not renewed
+my strength. My time is short and yet I would not die as mortals must.
+Oh! God of my people, whom I have served so well, save me from the
+death I dread. For I would not die. Give me a sign; give me the
+ancient, sacred sign!”
+
+So he spoke, lifting his proud and splendid head and watching the
+statue with wide, expectant eyes.
+
+“Thou dost not answer,” he cried again. “Wouldst thou desert me, Fate?
+Then beware lest I set up some new god against thee and hurl thee from
+thine immemorial throne. While I live I still have powers, I who am the
+last of thy worshippers, since it seems that my daughter turns her back
+on thee. I will get me to the sepulchre of the kings and take counsel
+with the dust of that wizard who first taught me wisdom. Even from the
+depths of death he must come to my call clad in a mockery of life, and
+comfort me. A little while yet I will wait, and if thou answer not,
+then Fate, soon I’ll tear the sceptre from thy hand, and thou shalt
+join the company of dead gods.” And throwing aside the sword, again Oro
+laid down his head upon the ground and stretched out his arms in the
+last abasement of supplication.
+
+“Come,” whispered Yva, “while there is yet time. Presently he will seek
+this place to descend to the sepulchre, and if he learns that we have
+read his heart and know him for a coward deserted of his outworn god,
+surely he will blot us out. Come, and be swift and silent.”
+
+We crept out of the chapel, Yva leading, and along the circle of the
+great dome till we reached the gates. Here I glanced back and perceived
+that Oro, looking unutterably small in that vastness, looking like a
+dead man, still lay outstretched before the stern-faced, unanswering
+Effigy which, with all his wisdom, he believed to be living and divine.
+Perhaps once it was, but if so its star had set for ever, like those of
+Amon, Jupiter and Baal, and he was its last worshipper.
+
+Now we were safe, but still we sped on till we reached the portico of
+our sleeping place. Then Yva turned and spoke.
+
+“It is horrible,” she said, “and my soul sickens. Oh, I thank the
+Strength which made it that I have no desire to rule the earth, and,
+being innocent of death, do not fear to die and cross his threshold.”
+
+“Yes, it is horrible,” I answered. “Yet all men fear death.”
+
+“Not when they have found love, Humphrey, for that I think is his true
+name, and, with it written on his brow, he stands upon the neck of Fate
+who is still my father’s god.”
+
+“Then he is not yours, Yva?”
+
+“Nay. Once it was so, but now I reject him; he is no longer mine. As
+Oro threatens, and perchance dare do in his rage, I have broken his
+chain, though in another fashion. Ask me no more; perhaps one day you
+will learn the path I trod to freedom.”
+
+Then before I could speak, she went off:
+
+“Rest now, for within a few hours I must come to lead you and your
+companions to a terrible place. Yet whatever you may see or hear, be
+not afraid, Humphrey, for I think that Oro’s god has no power over you,
+strong though he was, and that Oro’s plans will fail, while I, who too
+have knowledge, shall find strength to save the world.”
+
+Then of a sudden, once again she grew splendid, almost divine; no more
+a woman but as it were an angel. Some fire of pure purpose seemed to
+burn up in her and to shine out of her eyes. Yet she said little. Only
+this indeed:
+
+“To everyone, I think, there comes the moment of opportunity when
+choice must be made between what is great and what is small, between
+self and its desires and the good of other wanderers in the way. This
+day that moment may draw near to you or me, and if so, surely we shall
+greet it well. Such is Bastin’s lesson, which I have striven to learn.”
+
+Then she flung her arms about me and kissed me on the brow as a mother
+might, and was gone.
+
+Strangely enough, perhaps because of my mental exhaustion, for what I
+had passed through seemed to overwhelm me so that I could no longer so
+much as think with clearness, even after all that I have described I
+slept like a child and awoke refreshed and well.
+
+I looked at my watch to find that it was now eight o’clock in the
+morning in this horrible place where there was neither morn, nor noon,
+nor night, but only an eternal brightness that came I knew not whence,
+and never learned.
+
+I found that I was alone, since Bickley and Bastin had gone to fill our
+bottles with the Life-water. Presently they returned and we ate a
+little; with that water to drink one did not need much food. It was a
+somewhat silent meal, for our circumstances were a check on talk;
+moreover, I thought that the others looked at me rather oddly. Perhaps
+they guessed something of my midnight visit to the temple, but if so
+they thought it wisest to say nothing. Nor did I enlighten them.
+
+Shortly after we had finished Yva appeared. She was wonderfully quiet
+and gentle in her manner, calm also, and greeted all of us with much
+sweetness. Of our experiences during the night she said no word to me,
+even when we were alone. One difference I noticed about her, however;
+that she was clothed in garments such as I had never seen her wear
+before. They were close fitting, save for a flowing cape, and made of
+some grey material, not unlike a coarse homespun or even asbestos
+cloth. Still they became her very well, and when I remarked upon them,
+all she answered was that part of our road would be rough. Even her
+feet were shod with high buskins of this grey stuff.
+
+Presently she touched Bastin on the shoulder and said that she would
+speak with him apart. They went together into one of the chambers of
+that dwelling and there remained for perhaps the half of an hour. It
+was towards the end of this time that in the intense silence I heard a
+crash from the direction of the temple, as though something heavy had
+fallen to the rocky floor. Bickley also heard this sound. When the two
+reappeared I noticed that though still quite calm, Yva looked radiant,
+and, if I may say so, even more human and womanly than I had ever seen
+her, while Bastin also seemed very happy.
+
+“One has strange experiences in life, yes, very strange,” he remarked,
+apparently addressing the air, which left me wondering to what
+particular experience he might refer. Well, I thought that I could
+guess.
+
+“Friends,” said Yva, “it is time for us to be going and I am your
+guide. You will meet the Lord Oro at the end of your journey. I pray
+you to bring those lamps of yours with you, since all the road is not
+lightened like this place.”
+
+“I should like to ask,” said Bickley, “whither we go and for what
+object, points on which up to the present we have had no definite
+information.”
+
+“We go, friend Bickley, deep into the bowels of the world, far deeper,
+I think, than any mortal men have gone hitherto, that is, of your
+race.”
+
+“Then we shall perish of heat,” said Bickley, “for with every thousand
+feet the temperature rises many degrees.”
+
+“Not so. You will pass through a zone of heat, but so swiftly that if
+you hold your breath you will not suffer overmuch. Then you will come
+to a place where a great draught blows which will keep you cool, and
+thence travel on to the end.”
+
+“Yes, but to what end, Lady Yva?”
+
+“That you will see for yourselves, and with it other wondrous things.”
+
+Here some new idea seemed to strike her, and after a little hesitation
+she added:
+
+“Yet why should you go? Oro has commanded it, it is true, but I think
+that at the last he will forget. It must be decided swiftly. There is
+yet time. I can place you in safety in the sepulchre of Sleep where you
+found us. Thence cross to the main island and sail away quickly in your
+boat out into the great sea, where I believe you will find succour.
+Know that after disobeying him, you must meet Oro no more lest it
+should be the worse for you. If that be your will, let us start. What
+say you?”
+
+She looked at me.
+
+“I say, Yva, that I am willing to go if you come with us. Not
+otherwise.”
+
+“I say,” said Bickley, “that I want to see all this supernatural
+rubbish thoroughly exploded, and that therefore I should prefer to go
+on with the business.”
+
+“And I say,” said Bastin, “that my most earnest desire is to be clear
+of the whole thing, which wearies and perplexes me more than I can
+tell. Only I am not going to run away, unless you think it desirable to
+do so too, Lady Yva. I want you to understand that I am not in the
+least afraid of the Lord Oro, and do not for one moment believe that he
+will be allowed to bring about disaster to the world, as I understand
+is his wicked object. Therefore on the whole I am indifferent and quite
+prepared to accept any decision at which the rest of you may arrive.”
+
+“Be it understood,” said Yva with a little smile when Bastin had
+finished his sermonette, “that I must join my father in the bowels of
+the earth for a reason which will be made plain afterwards. Therefore,
+if you go we part, as I think to meet no more. Still my advice is that
+you should go.”[1]
+
+ [1] It is fortunate that we did not accept Yva’s offer. Had we done so
+ we should have found ourselves shut in, and perished, as shall be
+ told.—H. A.
+
+
+To this our only answer was to attend to the lighting of our lamps and
+the disposal of our small impedimenta, such as our tins of oil and
+water bottles. Yva noted this and laughed outright.
+
+“Courage did not die with the Sons of Wisdom,” she said.
+
+Then we set out, Yva walking ahead of us and Tommy frisking at her
+side.
+
+Our road led us through the temple. As we passed the great gates I
+started, for there, in the centre of that glorious building, I
+perceived a change. The statue of Fate was no more! It lay broken upon
+the pavement among those fragments of its two worshippers which I had
+seen shaken down some hours before.
+
+“What does this mean?” I whispered to Yva. “I have felt no other
+earthquake.”
+
+“I do not know,” she answered, “or if I know I may not say. Yet learn
+that no god can live on without a single worshipper, and, in a fashion,
+that idol was alive, though this you will not believe.”
+
+“How very remarkable,” said Bastin, contemplating the ruin. “If I were
+superstitious, which I am not, I should say that this occurrence was an
+omen indicating the final fall of a false god. At any rate it is dead
+now, and I wonder what caused it?”
+
+“I felt an earth tremor last night,” said Bickley, “though it is odd
+that it should only have affected this particular statue. A thousand
+pities, for it was a wonderful work of art.”
+
+Then I remembered and reminded Bickley of the crash which we had heard
+while Yva and Bastin were absent on some secret business in the
+chamber.
+
+Walking the length of the great church, if so it could be called, we
+came to an apse at the head of it where, had it been Christian, the
+altar would have stood. In this apse was a little open door through
+which we passed. Beyond it lay a space of rough rock that looked as
+though it had been partially prepared for the erection of buildings and
+then abandoned. All this space was lighted, however, like the rest of
+the City of Nyo, and in the same mysterious way. Led by Yva, we
+threaded our path between the rough stones, following a steep downward
+slope. Thus we walked for perhaps half a mile, till at length we came
+to the mouth of a huge pit that must, I imagine, have lain quite a
+thousand feet below the level of the temple.
+
+I looked over the edge of this pit and shrank back terrified. It seemed
+to be bottomless. Moreover, a great wind rushed up it with a roaring
+sound like to that of an angry sea. Or rather there were two winds,
+perhaps draughts would be a better term, if I may apply it to an air
+movement of so fierce and terrible a nature. One of these rushed up the
+pit, and one rushed down. Or it may have been that the up rush
+alternated with the down rush. Really it is impossible to say.
+
+“What is this place?” I asked, clinging to the others and shrinking
+back in alarm from its sheer edge and bottomless depth, for that this
+was enormous we could see by the shaft of light which flowed downwards
+farther than the eye could follow.
+
+“It is a vent up and down which air passes from and to the central
+hollows of the earth,” Yva answered. “Doubtless in the beginning
+through it travelled that mighty force which blew out these caves in
+the heated rocks, as the craftsman blows out glass.”
+
+“I understand,” said Bastin. “Just like one blows out a bubble on a
+pipe, only on a larger scale. Well, it is very interesting, but I have
+seen enough of it. Also I am afraid of being blown away.”
+
+“I fear that you must see more,” answered Yva with a smile, “since we
+are about to descend this pit.”
+
+“Do you mean that we are to go down that hole, and if so, how? I don’t
+see any lift, or moving staircase, or anything of that sort.”
+
+“Easily and safely enough, Bastin. See.”
+
+As she spoke a great flat rock of the size of a small room appeared,
+borne upwards, as I suppose, by the terrific draught which roared past
+us on its upward course. When it reached the lip of the shaft, it hung
+a little while, then moved across and began to descend with such
+incredible swiftness that in a few seconds it had vanished from view.
+
+“Oh!” said Bastin, with his eyes almost starting out of his head,
+“that’s the lift, is it? Well, I tell you at once I don’t like the look
+of the thing. It gives me the creeps. Suppose it tilted.”
+
+“It does not tilt,” answered Yva, still smiling. “I tell you, Bastin,
+that there is naught to fear. Only yesterday, I rode this rock and
+returned unharmed.”
+
+“That is all very well, Lady Yva, but you may know how to balance it;
+also when to get on and off.”
+
+“If you are afraid, Bastin, remain here until your companions return.
+They, I think, will make the journey.”
+
+Bickley and I intimated that we would, though to tell the truth, if
+less frank we were quite as alarmed as Bastin.
+
+“No, I’ll come too. I suppose one may as well die this way as any
+other, and if anything were to happen to them and I were left alone, it
+would be worse still.”
+
+“Then be prepared,” said Yva, “for presently this air-chariot of ours
+will return. When it appears and hangs upon the edge, step on to it and
+throw yourselves upon your faces and all will be well. At the foot of
+the shaft the motion lessens till it almost stops, and it is easy to
+spring, or even crawl to the firm earth.”
+
+Then she stooped down and lifted Tommy who was sniffing suspiciously at
+the edge of the pit, his long ears blown straight above his head,
+holding him beneath her left arm and under her cloak, that he might not
+see and be frightened.
+
+We waited a while in silence, perhaps for five or six minutes, among
+the most disagreeable, I think, that I ever passed. Then far down in
+the brightness below appeared a black speck that seemed to grow in size
+as it rushed upwards.
+
+“It comes,” said Yva. “Prepare and do as I do. Do not spring, or run,
+lest you should go too far. Step gently on to the rock and to its
+centre, and there lie down. Trust in me, all of you.”
+
+“There’s nothing else to do,” groaned Bastin.
+
+The great stone appeared and, as before, hung at the edge of the pit.
+Yva stepped on to it quietly, as she did so, catching hold of my wrist
+with her disengaged hand. I followed her feeling very sick, and
+promptly sat down. Then came Bickley with the air of the virtuous hero
+of a romance walking a pirate’s plank, and also sat down. Only Bastin
+hesitated until the stone began to move away. Then with an ejaculation
+of “Here goes!” he jumped over the intervening crack of space and
+landed in the middle of us like a sack of coal. Had I not been seated
+really I think he would have knocked me off the rock. As it was, with
+one hand he gripped me by the beard and with the other grasped Yva’s
+robe, of neither of which would he leave go for quite a long time,
+although we forced him on to his face. The lantern which he held flew
+from his grasp and descended the shaft on its own account.
+
+“You silly fool!” exclaimed Bickley whose perturbation showed itself in
+anger. “There goes one of our lamps.”
+
+“Hang the lamp!” muttered the prostrate Bastin. “We shan’t want it in
+Heaven, or the other place either.”
+
+Now the stone which had quivered a little beneath the impact of Bastin,
+steadied itself again and with a slow and majestic movement sailed to
+the other side of the gulf. There it felt the force of gravity, or
+perhaps the weight of the returning air pressed on it, which I do not
+know. At any rate it began to fall, slowly at first, then more swiftly,
+and afterwards at an incredible pace, so that in a few seconds the
+mouth of the pit above us grew small and presently vanished quite away.
+I looked up at Yva who was standing composedly in the midst of our
+prostrate shapes. She bent down and called in my ear:
+
+“All is well. The heat begins, but it will not endure for long.”
+
+I nodded and glanced over the edge of the stone at Bastin’s lantern
+which was sailing alongside of us, till presently we passed it. Bastin
+had lit it before we started, I think in a moment of aberration, and it
+burned for quite a long while, showing like a star when the shaft grew
+darker as it did by degrees, a circumstance that testifies to the
+excellence of the make, which is one advertised not to go out in any
+wind. Not that we felt wind, or even draught, perhaps because we were
+travelling with it.
+
+Then we entered the heat zone. About this there was no doubt, for the
+perspiration burst out all over me and the burning air scorched my
+lungs. Also Tommy thrust his head from beneath the cloak with his
+tongue hanging out and his mouth wide open.
+
+“Hold your breaths!” cried Yva, and we obeyed until we nearly burst. At
+least I did, but what happened to the others I do not know.
+
+Fortunately it was soon over and the air began to grow cool again. By
+now we had travelled an enormous distance, it seemed to be miles on
+miles, and I noticed that our terrific speed was slackening, also that
+the shaft grew more narrow, till at length there were only a few feet
+between the edge of the stone and its walls. The result of this, or so
+I supposed, was that the compressed air acted as a buffer, lessening
+our momentum, till at length the huge stone moved but very slowly.
+
+“Be ready to follow me,” cried Yva again, and we rose to our feet, that
+is, Bickley and I did, but poor Bastin was semi-comatose. The stone
+stopped and Yva sprang from it to a rock platform level with which it
+lay. We followed, dragging Bastin between us. As we did so something
+hit me gently on the head. It was Bastin’s lamp, which I seized.
+
+“We are safe. Sit down and rest,” said Yva, leading us a few paces
+away.
+
+We obeyed and presently by the dim light saw the stone begin to stir
+again, this time upwards. In another twenty seconds it was away on its
+never-ending journey.
+
+“Does it always go on like that?” said Bastin, sitting up and staring
+after it.
+
+“Tens of thousands of years ago it was journeying thus, and tens of
+thousands of years hence it will still be journeying, or so I think,”
+she replied. “Why not, since the strength of the draught never changes
+and there is nothing to wear it except the air?”
+
+Somehow the vision of this huge stone, first loosed and set in motion
+by heaven knows what agency, travelling from aeon to aeon up and down
+that shaft in obedience to some law I did not understand, impressed my
+imagination like a nightmare. Indeed I often dream of it to this day.
+
+I looked about me. We were in some cavernous place that could be but
+dimly seen, for here the light that flowed down the shaft from the
+upper caves where it was mysteriously created, scarcely shone, and
+often indeed was entirely cut off, when the ever-journeying stone was
+in the narrowest parts of the passage. I could see, however, that this
+cavern stretched away both to right and left of us, while I felt that
+from the left, as we sat facing the shaft, there drew down a strong
+blast of fresh air which suggested that somewhere, however far away, it
+must open on to the upper world. For the rest its bottom and walls
+seemed to be smooth as though they had been planed in the past ages by
+the action of cosmic forces. Bickley noticed this the first and pointed
+it out to me. We had little time to observe, however, for presently Yva
+said:
+
+“If you are rested, friends, I pray you light those lamps of yours,
+since we must walk a while in darkness.”
+
+We did and started, still travelling downhill. Yva walked ahead with me
+and Tommy who seemed somewhat depressed and clung close to our heels.
+The other two followed, arguing strenuously about I know not what. It
+was their way of working off irritation and alarms.
+
+I asked Yva what was about to happen, for a great fear oppressed me.
+
+“I am not sure, Beloved,” she answered in a sweet and gentle voice,
+“who do not know all Oro’s secrets, but as I think, great things. We
+are now deep in the bowels of the world, and presently, perhaps, you
+will see some of its mighty forces whereof your ignorant races have no
+knowledge, doing their everlasting work.”
+
+“Then how is it that we can breathe here?” I asked. “Because this road
+that we are following connects with the upper air or used to do so,
+since once I followed it. It is a long road and the climb is steep, but
+at last it leads to the light of the blessed sun, nor are there any
+pitfalls in the path. Would that we might tread it together, Humphrey,”
+she added with passion, “and be rid of mysteries and the gloom, or that
+light which is worse than gloom.”
+
+“Why not?” I asked eagerly. “Why should we not turn and flee?”
+
+“Who can flee from my father, the Lord Oro?” she replied. “He would
+snare us before we had gone a mile. Moreover, if we fled, by tomorrow
+half the world must perish.”
+
+“And how can we save it by not flying, Yva?”
+
+“I do not know, Humphrey, yet I think it will be saved, perchance by
+sacrifice. That is the keystone of your faith, is it not? Therefore if
+it is asked of you to save the world, you will not shrink from it, will
+you, Humphrey?”
+
+“I hope not,” I replied, without enthusiasm, I admit. Indeed it struck
+me that a business of this sort was better fitted to Bastin than to
+myself, or at any rate to his profession. I think she guessed my
+thoughts, for by the light of the lamp I saw her smile in her dazzling
+way. Then after a swift glance behind her, she turned and suddenly
+kissed me, as she did so calling down everlasting blessings on my head
+and on my spirit. There was something very wonderful about this
+benediction of Yva’s and it thrilled me through and through, so that to
+it I could make no answer.
+
+Next moment it was too late to retreat, for our narrowing passage
+turned and we found ourselves in a wondrous place. I call it wondrous
+because of it we could see neither the beginning nor the end, nor the
+roof, nor aught else save the rock on which we walked, and the side or
+wall that our hands touched. Nor was this because of darkness, since
+although it was not illuminated like the upper caverns, light of a sort
+was present. It was a very strange light, consisting of brilliant and
+intermittent flashes, or globes of blue and lambent flame which seemed
+to leap from nowhere into nowhere, or sometimes to hang poised in mid
+air.
+
+“How odd they are,” said the voice of Bastin behind me. “They remind me
+of those blue sparks which jump up from the wires of the tramways in
+London on a dark night. You know, don’t you, Bickley? I mean when the
+conductor pulls round that long stick with an iron wheel on the top of
+it.”
+
+“Nobody but you could have thought of such a comparison, Bastin,”
+answered Bickley. “Still, multiplied a thousandfold they are not
+unlike.”
+
+Nor indeed were they, except that each blue flash was as big as the
+full moon and in one place or another they were so continuous that one
+could have read a letter by their light. Also the effect of them was
+ghastly and most unnatural, terrifying, too, since even their
+brilliance could not reveal the extent of that gigantic hollow in the
+bowels of the world wherein they leapt to and fro like lightnings, or
+hung like huge, uncanny lanterns.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+Sacrifice
+
+
+“The air in this place must be charged with some form of electricity,
+but the odd thing is that it does not seem to harm us,” said Bickley in
+a matter-of-fact fashion as though he were determined not to be
+astonished.
+
+“To me it looks more like marsh fires or St. Elmo lights, though how
+these can be where there is no vapour, I do not know,” I answered.
+
+As I spoke a particularly large ball of flame fell from above. It
+resembled a shooting star or a meteor more than anything else that I
+had ever seen, and made me wonder whether we were not perhaps standing
+beneath some inky, unseen sky.
+
+Next moment I forgot such speculations, for in its blue light, which
+made him terrible and ghastly, I perceived Oro standing in front of us
+clad in a long cloak.
+
+“Dear me!” said Bastin, “he looks just like the devil, doesn’t he, and
+now I come to think of it, this isn’t at all a bad imitation of hell.”
+
+“How do you know it is an imitation?” asked Bickley.
+
+“Because whatever might be the case with you, Bickley, if it were, the
+Lady Yva and I should not be here.”
+
+Even then I could not help smiling at this repartee, but the argument
+went no further for Oro held up his hand and Yva bent the knee in
+greeting to him.
+
+“So you have come, all of you,” he said. “I thought that perhaps there
+were one or two who would not find courage to ride the flying stone. I
+am glad that it is not so, since otherwise he who had shown himself a
+coward should have had no share in the rule of that new world which is
+to be. Therefore I chose yonder road that it might test you.”
+
+“Then if you will be so good as to choose another for us to return by,
+I shall be much obliged to you, Oro,” said Bastin.
+
+“How do you know that if I did it would not be more terrible, Preacher?
+How do you know indeed that this is not your last journey from which
+there is no return?”
+
+“Of course I can’t be sure of anything, Oro, but I think the question
+is one which you might more appropriately put to yourself. According to
+your own showing you are now extremely old and therefore your end is
+likely to come at any moment. Of course, however, if it did you would
+have one more journey to make, but it wouldn’t be polite for me to say
+in what direction.”
+
+Oro heard, and his splendid, icy face was twisted with sudden rage.
+Remembering the scene in the temple where he had grovelled before his
+god, uttering agonised, unanswered prayers for added days, I understood
+the reason of his wrath. It was so great that I feared lest he should
+kill Bastin (who only a few hours before, be it remembered, had tried
+to kill _him_) then and there, as doubtless he could have done if he
+wished. Fortunately, if he felt it; the impulse passed.
+
+“Miserable fool!” he said. “I warn you to keep a watch upon your words.
+Yesterday you would have slain me with your toy. Today you stab me with
+your ill-omened tongue. Be fearful lest I silence it for ever.”
+
+“I am not in the least fearful, Oro, since I am sure that _you_ can’t
+hurt me at all any more than I could hurt you last night because, you
+see, it wasn’t permitted. When the time comes for me to die, I shall
+go, but _you_ will have nothing to do with that. To tell the truth, I
+am very sorry for you, as with all your greatness, your soul is of the
+earth, earthy, also sensual and devilish, as the Apostle said, and, I
+am afraid, very malignant, and you will have a great deal to answer for
+shortly. Yours _won’t_ be a happy deathbed, Oro, because, you see, you
+glory in your sins and don’t know what repentance means.”
+
+I must add that when I heard these words I was filled with the most
+unbounded admiration for Bastin’s fearless courage which enabled him
+thus to beard this super-tyrant in his den. So indeed were we all, for
+I read it in Yva’s face and heard Bickley mutter:
+
+“Bravo! Splendid! After all there is something in faith!”
+
+Even Oro appreciated it with his intellect, if not with his heart, for
+he stared at the man and made no answer. In the language of the ring,
+he was quite “knocked out” and, almost humbly, changed the subject.
+
+“We have yet a little while,” he said, “before that happens which I
+have decreed. Come, Humphrey, that I may show you some of the marvels
+of this bubble blown in the bowels of the world,” and he motioned to us
+to pick up the lanterns.
+
+Then he led us away from the wall of the cavern, if such it was, for a
+distance of perhaps six or seven hundred paces. Here suddenly we came
+to a great groove in the rocky floor, as broad as a very wide roadway,
+and mayhap four feet in depth. The bottom of this groove was polished
+and glittered; indeed it gave us the impression of being iron, or other
+ore which had been welded together beneath the grinding of some
+immeasurable weight. Just at the spot where we struck the groove, it
+divided into two, for this reason.
+
+In its centre the floor of iron, or whatever it may have been, rose,
+the fraction of an inch at first, but afterwards more sharply, and this
+at a spot where the groove had a somewhat steep downward dip which
+appeared to extend onwards I know not how far.
+
+Following along this central rise for a great way, nearly a mile, I
+should think, we observed that it became ever more pronounced, till at
+length it ended in a razor-edge cliff which stretched up higher than we
+could see, even by the light of the electrical discharges. Standing
+against the edge of this cliff, we perceived that at a distance from it
+there were now _two_ grooves of about equal width. One of these ran
+away into the darkness on our right as we faced the sharp edge, and at
+an ever-widening angle, while the other, at a similar angle, ran into
+the darkness to the left of the knife of cliff. That was all.
+
+No, there were two more notable things. Neither of the grooves now lay
+within hundreds of yards of the cliff, perhaps a quarter of a mile, for
+be it remembered we had followed the rising rock between them. To put
+it quite clearly, it was exactly as though one line of rails had
+separated into two lines of rails, as often enough they do, and an
+observer standing on high ground between could see them both vanishing
+into tunnels to the right and left, but far apart.
+
+The second notable thing was that the right-hand groove, where first we
+saw it at the point of separation, was not polished like the left-hand
+groove, although at some time or other it seemed to have been subjected
+to the pressure of the same terrific weight which cut its fellow out of
+the bed of rock or iron, as the sharp wheels of a heavily laden wagon
+sink ruts into a roadway.
+
+“What does it all mean, Lord Oro?” I asked when he had led us back to
+the spot where the one groove began to be two grooves, that is, a mile
+or so away from the razor-edged cliff.
+
+“This, Humphrey,” he answered. “That which travels along yonder road,
+when it reaches this spot on which we stand, follows the left-hand path
+which is made bright with its passage. Yet, could a giant at that
+moment of its touching this exact spot on which I lay my hand, thrust
+it with sufficient strength, it would leave the left-hand road and take
+the right-hand road.”
+
+“And if it did, what then; Lord Oro?”
+
+“Then within an hour or so, when it had travelled far enough upon its
+way, the balance of the earth would be changed, and great things would
+happen in the world above, as once they happened in bygone days. Now do
+you understand, Humphrey?”
+
+“Good Heavens! Yes, I understand now,” I answered. “But fortunately
+there is no such giant.”
+
+Oro broke into a mocking laugh and his grey old face lit up with a
+fiendish exultation, as he cried:
+
+“Fool! I, Oro, am that giant. Once in the dead days I turned the
+balance of the world from the right-hand road which now is dull with
+disuse, to the left-hand road which glitters so brightly to your eyes,
+and the face of the earth was changed. Now again I will turn it from
+the left-hand road to the right-hand road in which for millions of
+years it was wont to run, and once more the face of the earth shall
+change, and those who are left living upon the earth, or who in the
+course of ages shall come to live upon the new earth, must bow down to
+Oro and take him and his seed to be their gods and kings.”
+
+When I heard this I was overwhelmed and could not answer. Also I
+remembered a certain confused picture which Yva had shown to us in the
+Temple of Nyo. But supported by his disbelief, Bickley asked:
+
+“And how often does the balance of which you speak come this way, Lord
+Oro?”
+
+“Once only in many years; the number is my secret, Bickley,” he
+replied.
+
+“Then there is every reason to hope that it will not trouble us,”
+remarked Bickley with a suspicion of mockery in his voice.
+
+“Do you think so, you learned Bickley?” asked Oro. “If so, I do not.
+Unless my skill has failed me and my calculations have gone awry, that
+Traveller of which I tell should presently be with us. Hearken now!
+What is that sound we hear?”
+
+As he spoke there reached our ears the first, far-off murmurs of a
+dreadful music. I cannot describe it in words because that is
+impossible, but it was something like to the buzz of a thousand
+humming-tops such as are loved by children because of their weird song.
+
+“Back to the wall!” cried Oro triumphantly. “The time is short!”
+
+So back we went, Oro pausing a while behind and overtaking us with
+long, determined strides. Yva led us, gliding at my side and, as I
+thought, now and again glanced at my face with a look that was half
+anxious and half pitiful. Also twice she stooped and patted Tommy.
+
+We reached the wall, though not quite at the spot whence we had started
+to examine the grooved roads. At least I think this was so, since now
+for the first time I observed a kind of little window in its rocky
+face. It stood about five feet from its floor level, and was perhaps
+ten inches square, not more. In short, except for its shape it
+resembled a ship’s porthole rather than a window. Its substance
+appeared to be talc, or some such material, and inches thick, yet
+through it, after Oro had cast aside some sort of covering, came a
+glare like that of a search-light. In fact it was a search-light so far
+as concerned one of its purposes.
+
+By this window or porthole lay a pile of cloaks, also four objects
+which looked like Zulu battle shields cut in some unknown metal or
+material. Very deftly, very quietly, Yva lifted these cloaks and
+wrapped one of them about each of us, and while she was thus employed I
+noticed that they were of a substance very similar to that of the gown
+she wore, which I have described, but harder. Next she gave one of the
+metal-like shields to each of us, bidding us hold them in front of our
+bodies and heads, and only to look through certain slits in them in
+which were eyepieces that appeared to be of the same horny stuff as the
+searchlight window. Further, she commanded us to stand in a row with
+our backs against the rock wall, at certain spots which she indicated
+with great precision, and whatever we saw or heard on no account to
+move.
+
+So there we stood, Bickley next to me, and beyond him Bastin. Then Yva
+took the fourth shield, as I noted a much larger one than ours, and
+placed herself between me and the search-light or porthole. On the
+other side of this was Oro who had no shield.
+
+These arrangements took some minutes and during that time occupied all
+our attention. When they were completed, however, our curiosity and
+fear began to reassert themselves. I looked about me and perceived that
+Oro had his right hand upon what seemed to be a rough stone rod, in
+shape not unlike that with which railway points are moved. He shouted
+to us to stand still and keep the shields over our faces. Then very
+gently he pressed upon the lever. The porthole sank the fraction of an
+inch, and instantly there leapt from it a most terrific blaze of
+lightning, which shot across the blackness in front and, as lightning
+does, revealed far, far away another wall, or rather cliff, like that
+against which we leant.
+
+“All works well,” exclaimed Oro in a satisfied voice, lifting his hand
+from the rod, “and the strength which I have stored will be more than
+enough.”
+
+Meanwhile the humming noise came nearer and grew in volume.
+
+“I say,” said Bickley, “as you know, I have been sceptical, but I don’t
+like this business. Oro, what are you going to do?”
+
+“Sink half the world beneath the seas,” said Oro, “and raise up that
+which I drowned more than two thousand centuries ago. But as you do not
+believe that I have this power, Bickley, why do you ask such
+questions?”
+
+“_I_ believe that you have it, which was why I tried to shoot you
+yesterday,” said Bastin. “For your soul’s sake I beg you to desist from
+an attempt which I am sure will not succeed, but which will certainly
+involve your eternal damnation, since the failure will be no fault of
+yours.”
+
+Then I spoke also, saying:
+
+“I implore you, Lord Oro, to let this business be. I do not know
+exactly how much or how little you can do, but I understand that your
+object is to slay men by millions in order to raise up another world of
+which you will be the absolute king, as you were of some past empire
+that has been destroyed, either through your agency or otherwise. No
+good can come of such ambitions. Like Bastin, for your soul’s sake I
+pray you to let them be.”
+
+“What Humphrey says I repeat,” said Yva. “My Father, although you know
+it not, you seek great evil, and from these hopes you sow you will
+harvest nothing save a loss of which you do not dream. Moreover, your
+plans will fail. Now I who am, like yourself, of the Children of
+Wisdom, have spoken, for the first and last time, and my words are
+true. I pray you give them weight, my Father.”
+
+Oro heard, and grew furious.
+
+“What!” he said. “Are you against me, every one, and my own daughter
+also? I would lift you up, I would make you rulers of a new world; I
+would destroy your vile civilisations which I have studied with my
+eyes, that I may build better! To you, Humphrey, I would give my only
+child in marriage that from you may spring a divine race of kings! And
+yet you are against me and set up your puny scruples as a barrier
+across my path of wisdom. Well, I tread them down, I go on my appointed
+way. But beware how you try to hold me back. If any one of you should
+attempt to come between me and my ends, know that I will destroy you
+all. Obey or die.”
+
+“Well, he has had his chance and he won’t take it,” said Bastin in the
+silence that followed. “The man must go to the devil his own way and
+there is nothing more to be said.”
+
+I say the silence, but it was no more silent. The distant humming grew
+to a roar, the roar to a hellish hurricane of sound which presently
+drowned all attempts at ordinary speech.
+
+Then bellowing like ten millions of bulls, at length far away there
+appeared something terrible. I can only describe its appearance as that
+of an attenuated mountain on fire. When it drew nearer I perceived that
+it was more like a ballet-dancer whirling round and round upon her
+toes, or rather all the ballet-dancers in the world rolled into one and
+then multiplied a million times in size. No, it was like a mushroom
+with two stalks, one above and one below, or a huge top with a point on
+which it spun, a swelling belly and another point above. But what a
+top! It must have been two thousand feet high, if it was an inch, and
+its circumference who could measure?
+
+On it came, dancing, swaying and spinning at a rate inconceivable, so
+that it looked like a gigantic wheel of fire. Yet it was not fire that
+clothed it but rather some phosphorescence, since from it came no heat.
+Yes, a phosphorescence arranged in bands of ghastly blue and lurid red,
+with streaks of other colours running up between, and a kind of waving
+fringe of purple.
+
+The fire-mountain thundered on with a voice like to that of avalanches
+or of icebergs crashing from their parent glaciers to the sea. Its
+terrific aspect was appalling, and its weight caused the solid rock to
+quiver like a leaf. Watching it, we felt as ants might feel at the
+advent of the crack of doom, for its mere height and girth and size
+overwhelmed us. We could not even speak. The last words I heard were
+from the mouth of Oro who screamed out:
+
+“Behold the balance of the World, you miserable, doubting men, and
+behold me change its path—turning it as the steersman turns a ship!”
+
+Then he made certain signs to Yva, who in obedience to them approached
+the porthole or search-light to which she did something that I could
+not distinguish. The effect was to make the beam of light much stronger
+and sharper, also to shift it on to the point or foot of the spinning
+mountain and, by an aiming of the lens from time to time, to keep it
+there.
+
+This went on for a while, since the dreadful thing did not travel fast
+notwithstanding the frightful speed of its revolutions. I should doubt
+indeed if it advanced more quickly than a man could walk; at any rate
+so it seemed to us. But we had no means of judging its real rate of
+progress whereof we knew as little as we did of the course it followed
+in the bowels of the earth. Perhaps that was spiral, from the world’s
+deep heart upwards, and this was the highest point it reached. Or
+perhaps it remained stationary, but still spinning, for scores or
+hundreds of years in some central powerhouse of its own, whence, in
+obedience to unknown laws, from time to time it made these terrific
+journeys.
+
+No one knows, unless perhaps Oro did, in which case he kept the
+information to himself, and no one will ever know. At any rate there it
+was, travelling towards us on its giant butt, the peg of the top as it
+were, which, hidden in a cloud of friction-born sparks that enveloped
+it like the cup of a curving flower of fire, whirled round and round at
+an infinite speed. It was on this flaming flower that the search-light
+played steadily, doubtless that Oro might mark and measure its
+monstrous progress.
+
+“He is going to try to send the thing down the right-hand path,” I
+shouted into Bickley’s ear.
+
+“Can’t be done! Nothing can shift a travelling weight of tens of
+millions of tons one inch,” Bickley roared back, trying to look
+confident.
+
+Clearly, however, Yva thought that it could be done, for of a sudden
+she cast down her shield and, throwing herself upon her knees,
+stretched out her hands in supplication to her father. I understood, as
+did we all, that she was imploring him to abandon his hellish purpose.
+He glared at her and shook his head. Then, as she still went on
+praying, he struck her across the face with his hand and pushed her to
+her feet again. My blood boiled as I saw it and I think I should have
+sprung at him, had not Bickley caught hold of me, shouting, “Don’t, or
+he will kill her and us too.”
+
+Yva lifted her shield and returned to her station, and in the blue
+discharges which now flashed almost continuously, and the
+phosphorescent glare of the advancing mountain, I saw that though her
+beautiful face worked beneath the pain of the blow, her eyes remained
+serene and purposeful. Even then I wondered—what was the purpose
+shining through them. Also I wondered if I was about to be called upon
+to make that sacrifice of which she had spoken, and if so, how. Of one
+thing I was determined—that if the call came it should not find me
+deaf. Yet all the while I was horribly afraid.
+
+At another sign from Oro, Yva did something more to the lens—again,
+being alongside of her, I could not see what it was. The beam of light
+shifted and wandered till, far away, it fell exactly upon that spot
+where the rock began to rise into the ridge which separated the two
+grooves or roads and ended in the razor-edged cliff. Moreover I
+observed that Oro, who left it the last of us, had either placed
+something white to mark this first infinitesimal bulging of the floor
+of the groove, or had smeared it with chalk or shining pigment. I
+observed also what I had not been able to see before, that a thin white
+line ran across the floor, no doubt to give the precise direction of
+this painted rise of rock, and that the glare of the search-light now
+lay exactly over that line.
+
+The monstrous, flaming gyroscope fashioned in Nature’s workshop, for
+such without doubt it was, was drawing near, emitting as it came a
+tumult of sounds which, with the echoes that they caused, almost
+over-whelmed our senses. Poor little Tommy, already cowed, although he
+was a bold-natured beast, broke down entirely, and I could see from his
+open mouth that he was howling with terror. He stared about him, then
+ran to Yva and pawed at her, evidently asking to be taken into her
+arms. She thrust him away, almost fiercely, and made signs to me to
+lift him up and hold him beneath my shield. This I did, reflecting
+sadly that if I was to be sacrificed, Tommy must share my fate. I even
+thought of passing him on to Bickley, but had no time. Indeed I could
+not attract his attention, for Bickley was staring with all his eyes at
+the nightmare-like spectacle which was in progress about us. Indeed no
+nightmare, no wild imagination of which the mind of man is capable,
+could rival the aspect of its stupendous facts.
+
+Think of them! The unmeasured space of blackness threaded by those
+globes of ghastly incandescence that now hung a while and now shot
+upwards, downwards, across, apparently without origin or end, like a
+stream of meteors that had gone mad. Then the travelling mountain, two
+thousand feet in height, or more, with its enormous saucer-like rim
+painted round with bands of lurid red and blue, and about its grinding
+foot the tulip bloom of emitted flame. Then the fierce-faced Oro at his
+post, his hand upon the rod, waiting, remorseless, to drown half of
+this great world, with the lovely Yva standing calm-eyed like a saint
+in hell and watching me above the edge of the shield which such a saint
+might bear to turn aside the fiery darts of the wicked. And lastly we
+three men flattened terror-stricken, against the wall.
+
+Nightmare! Imagination! No, these pale before that scene which it was
+given to our human eyes to witness.
+
+And all the while, bending, bowing towards us—away from us—making
+obeisance to the path in front as though in greeting, to the path
+behind as though in farewell; instinct with a horrible life, with a
+hideous and gigantic grace, that titanic Terror whirled onwards to the
+mark of fate.
+
+At the moment nothing could persuade me that it was not alive and did
+not know its awful mission. Visions flashed across my mind. I thought
+of the peoples of the world sleeping in their beds, or going about
+their business, or engaged even in the work of war. I thought of the
+ships upon the seas steaming steadily towards their far-off ports. Then
+I thought of what presently might happen to them, of the tremors
+followed by convulsions, of the sudden crashing down of cities, such as
+we had seen in the picture Yva showed us in the Temple, of the inflow
+of the waters of the deep piled up in mighty waves, of the woe and
+desolation as of the end of the world, and of the quiet, following
+death. So I thought and in my heart prayed to the great Arch-Architect
+of the Universe to stretch out His Arm to avert this fearsome ruin of
+His handiwork.
+
+Oro glared, his thin fingers tightened their grip upon the rod, his
+hair and long beard seemed to bristle with furious and delighted
+excitement. The purple-fringed rim of the Monster had long overshadowed
+the whited patch of rock; its grinding foot was scarce ten yards away.
+Oro made more signs to Yva who, beneath the shelter of her shield,
+again bent down and did something that I could not see. Then, as though
+her part were played, she rose, drew the grey hood of her cloak all
+about her face so that her eyes alone remained visible, took one step
+towards me and in the broken English we had taught her, called into my
+ear.
+
+“Humphrey, God you bless! Humphrey, we meet soon. Forget not me!”
+
+She stepped back again before I could attempt to answer, and next
+instant with a hideous, concentrated effort, Oro bending himself
+double, thrust upon the rod, as I could see from his open mouth,
+shouting while he thrust.
+
+At the same moment, with a swift spring, Yva leapt immediately in front
+of the lens or window, so that the metallic shield with which she
+covered herself pressed against its substance.
+
+Simultaneously Oro flung up his arms as though in horror.
+
+Too late! The shutter fell and from behind it there sprang out a rush
+of living flame. It struck on Yva’s shield and expanded to right and
+left. The insulated shield and garments that she wore seemed to resist
+it. For a fraction of time she stood there like a glowing angel,
+wrapped in fire.
+
+Then she was swept outwards and upwards and at a little distance
+dissolved like a ghost and vanished from our sight.
+
+Yva was ashes! Yva was gone! The sacrifice was consummated!
+
+And not in vain! Not in vain! On her poor breast she had received the
+full blast of that hellish lightning flash. Yet whilst destroying, it
+turned away from her, seeking the free paths of the air. So it came
+about that its obstructed strength struck the foot of the travelling
+gyroscope, diffused and did not suffice to thrust it that one necessary
+inch on which depended the fate of half the world, or missing it
+altogether, passed away on either side. Even so the huge, gleaming
+mountain rocked and trembled. Once, twice, thrice, it bowed itself
+towards us as though in majestic homage to greatness passed away. For a
+second, too, its course was checked, and at the check the earth quaked
+and trembled. Yes, then the world shook, and the blue globes of fire
+went out, while I was thrown to the ground.
+
+When they returned again, the flaming monster was once more sailing
+majestically upon its way and _down the accustomed left-hand path!_
+
+Indeed the sacrifice was not in vain. The world shook—but Yva had saved
+the world!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+Tommy
+
+
+I lay still a while, on my back as I had fallen, and beneath the
+shield-like defence which Yva had given to me. Notwithstanding the
+fire-resisting, metalised stuff of which it was made, I noted that it
+was twisted and almost burnt through. Doubtless the stored-up
+electricity or earth magnetism, or whatever it may have been that had
+leapt out of that hole, being diffused by the resistance with which it
+was met, had grazed me with its outer edge, and had it not been for the
+shield and cloak, I also should have been burned up. I wished, oh! how
+I wished that it had been so. Then, by now all must have finished and I
+should have known the truth as to what awaits us beyond the change:
+sleep, or dreams, or perchance the fullest life. Also I should not have
+learned alone.
+
+Lying there thus, idly, as though in a half-sleep, I felt Tommy licking
+my face, and throwing my arm about the poor little frightened beast, I
+watched the great world-balance as it retreated on its eternal journey.
+At one time its vast projecting rim had overshadowed us and almost
+seemed to touch the cliff of rock against which we leant. I remember
+that the effect of that shining arch a thousand feet or so above our
+heads was wonderful. It reminded me of a canopy of blackest thunder
+clouds supported upon a framework of wheeling rainbows, while beneath
+it all the children of the devil shouted together in joy. I noted this
+effect only a few seconds before Yva spoke to me and leapt into the
+path of the flash.
+
+Now, however, it was far away, a mere flaming wheel that became
+gradually smaller, and its Satanic voices were growing faint. As I have
+said, I watched its disappearance idly, reflecting that I should never
+look upon its like again; also that it was something well worth going
+forth to see. Then I became aware that the humming, howling din had
+decreased sufficiently to enable me to hear human voices without
+effort. Bastin was addressing Bickley—like myself they were both upon
+the ground.
+
+“Her translation, as you may have noticed, Bickley, if you were not too
+frightened, was really very remarkable. No doubt it will have reminded
+you, as it did me, of that of Elijah. She had exactly the appearance of
+a person going up to Heaven in a vehicle of fire. The destination was
+certainly the same, and even the cloak she wore added a familiar touch
+and increased the similarity.”
+
+“At any rate it did not fall upon you,” answered Bickley with something
+like a sob, in a voice of mingled awe and exasperation. “For goodness’
+sake! Bastin, stop your Biblical parallels and let us adore, yes, let
+us adore the divinest creature that the earth has borne!”
+
+Never have I loved Bickley more than when I heard him utter those
+words.
+
+“‘Divinest’ is a large term, Bickley, and one to which I hesitate to
+subscribe, remembering as I do certain of the prophets and the Early
+Fathers with all their faults, not of course to mention the Apostles.
+But—” here he paused, for suddenly all three of us became aware of Oro.
+
+He also has been thrown to the ground by the strength of the prisoned
+forces which he gathered and loosed upon their unholy errand, but, as I
+rejoiced to observe, had suffered from them much more than ourselves.
+Doubtless this was owing to the fact that he had sprung forward in a
+last wild effort to save his daughter, or to prevent her from
+interfering with his experiment, I know not which. As a result his
+right cheek was much scorched, his right arm was withered and helpless,
+and his magnificent beard was half burnt off him. Further, very
+evidently he was suffering from severe shock, for he rocked upon his
+feet and shook like an aspen leaf. All this, however, did not interfere
+with the liveliness of his grief and rage.
+
+There he stood, a towering shape, like a lightning-smitten statue, and
+cursed us, especially Bastin.
+
+“My daughter has gone!” he cried, “burned up by the fiery power that is
+my servant. Nothing remains of her but dust, and, Priest, this is your
+doing. You poisoned her heart with your childish doctrines of mercy and
+sacrifice, and the rest, so that she threw herself into the path of the
+flash to save some miserable races that she had never even known.”
+
+He paused exhausted, whereon Bastin answered him with spirit:
+
+“Yes, Oro, she being a holy woman, has gone where you will never follow
+her. Also it is your own fault since you should have listened to her
+entreaties instead of boxing her ears like the brute you are.”
+
+“My daughter is gone,” went on Oro, recovering his strength, “and my
+great designs are ruined. Yet only for a while,” he added, “for the
+world-balance will return again, if not till long after your life-spans
+are done.”
+
+“If you don’t doctor yourself, Lord Oro,” said Bickley, also rising, “I
+may tell you as one who understands such things, that most likely it
+will be after your life-span is done also. Although their effect may be
+delayed, severe shocks from burns and over-excitement are apt to prove
+fatal to the aged.”
+
+Oro snarled at him; no other word describes it.
+
+“And there are other things, Physician,” he said, “which are apt to
+prove fatal to the young. At least now you will no longer deny my
+power.”
+
+“I am not so sure,” answered Bickley, “since it seems that there is a
+greater Power, namely that of a woman’s love and sacrifice.”
+
+“And a greater still,” interrupted Bastin, “Which put those ideas into
+her head.”
+
+“As for you, Humphrey,” went on Oro, “I rejoice to think that you at
+least have lost two things that man desires above all other things—the
+woman you sought and the future kingship of the world.”
+
+I stood up and faced him.
+
+“The first I have gained, although how, you do not understand, Oro,” I
+answered. “And of the second, seeing that it would have come through
+you, on your conditions, I am indeed glad to be rid. I wish no power
+that springs from murder, and no gifts from one who answered his
+daughter’s prayer with blows.”
+
+For a moment he seemed remorseful.
+
+“She vexed me with her foolishness,” he said. Then his rage blazed up
+again:
+
+“And it was you who taught it to her,” he went on. “You are guilty, all
+three of you, and therefore I am left with none to serve me in my age;
+therefore also my mighty schemes are overthrown.”
+
+“Also, Oro, if you speak truth, therefore half the world is saved,” I
+added quietly, “and one has left it of whom it was unworthy.”
+
+“You think that these civilisations of yours, as you are pleased to
+call them, are saved, do you?” he sneered. “Yet, even if Bickley were
+right and I should die and become powerless, I tell you that they are
+already damned. I have studied them in your books and seen them with my
+eyes, and I say that they are rotten before ever they are ripe, and
+that their end shall be the end of the Sons of Wisdom, to die for lack
+of increase. That is why I would have saved the East, because in it
+alone there is increase, and thence alone can rise the great last race
+of man which I would have given to your children for an heritage.
+Moreover, think not that you Westerners have done with wars. I tell you
+that they are but begun and that the sword shall eat you up, and what
+the sword spares class shall snatch from class in the struggle for
+supremacy and ease.”
+
+Thus he spoke with extraordinary and concentrated bitterness that I
+confess would have frightened me, had I been capable of fear, which at
+the moment I was not. Who is afraid when he has lost all?
+
+Nor was Bastin alarmed, if for other reasons.
+
+“I think it right to tell you, Oro,” he said, “that the only future you
+need trouble about is your own. God Almighty will look after the
+western civilisations in whatever way He may think best, as you may
+remember He did just now. Only I am sure you won’t be here to see how
+it is done.”
+
+Again fury blazed in Oro’s eyes.
+
+“At least I will look after you, you half-bred dogs, who yap out
+ill-omened prophecies of death into my face. Since the three of you
+loved my daughter whom you brought to her doom, and were by her
+beloved, if differently, I think it best that you should follow on her
+road. How? That is the question? Shall I leave you to starve in these
+great caves?—Nay, look not towards the road of escape which doubtless
+she pointed out to you, for, as Humphrey knows, I can travel swiftly
+and I will make sure that you find it blocked. Or shall I—” and he
+glanced upwards at the great globes of wandering fire, as though he
+purposed to summon them to be our death, as doubtless he could have
+done.
+
+“I do not care what you do,” I answered wearily. “Only I would beg you
+to strike quickly. Yet for my friends I am sorry, since it was I who
+led them on this quest, and for you, too, Tommy,” I added, looking at
+the poor little hound. “You were foolish, Tommy,” I went on, “when you
+scented out that old tyrant in his coffin, at least for our own sake.”
+
+Indeed the dog was terribly scared. He whined continually and from time
+to time ran a little way and then returned to us, suggesting that we
+should go from this horror-haunted spot. Lastly, as though he
+understood that it was Oro who kept us there, he went to him and
+jumping up, licked his hand in a beseeching fashion.
+
+The super-man looked at the dog and as he looked the rage went out of
+his face and was replaced by something resembling pity.
+
+“I do not wish the beast to die,” he muttered to himself in low
+reflective tones, as though he thought aloud, “for of them all it alone
+liked and did not fear me. I might take it with me but still it would
+perish of grief in the loneliness of the caves. Moreover, she loved it
+whom I shall see no more; yes, Yva—” as he spoke the name his voice
+broke a little. “Yet if I suffer them to escape they will tell my story
+to the world and make me a laughingstock. Well, if they do, what does
+it matter? None of those Western fools would believe it; thinking that
+they knew all; like Bickley they would mock and say that they were mad,
+or liars.”
+
+Again Tommy licked his hand, but more confidently, as though instinct
+told him something of what was passing in Oro’s mind. I watched with an
+idle wonder, marvelling whether it were possible that this merciless
+being would after all spare us for the sake of the dog.
+
+So, strange to say, it came about, for suddenly Oro looked up and said:
+
+“Get you gone, and quickly, before my mood changes. The hound has saved
+you. For its sake I give you your lives, who otherwise should certainly
+have died. She who has gone pointed out to you, I doubt not, a road
+that runs to the upper air. I think that it is still open. Indeed,” he
+added, closing his eyes for a moment, “I see that it is still open, if
+long and difficult. Follow it, and should you win through, take your
+boat and sail away as swiftly as you can. Whether you die or live I
+care nothing, but my hands will be clean of your blood, although yours
+are stained with Yva’s. Begone! and my curse go with you.”
+
+Without waiting for further words we went to fetch our lanterns,
+water-bottles and bag of food which we had laid down at a little
+distance. As we approached them I looked up and saw Oro standing some
+way off. The light from one of the blue globes of fire which passed
+close above his head, shone upon him and made him ghastly. Moreover, it
+seemed to me as though approaching death had written its name upon his
+malevolent countenance.
+
+I turned my head away, for about his aspect in those sinister
+surroundings there was something horrible, something menacing and
+repellent to man and of him I wished to see no more. Nor indeed did I,
+for when I glanced in that direction again Oro was gone. I suppose that
+he had retreated into the shadows where no light played.
+
+We gathered up our gear, and while the others were relighting the
+lanterns, I walked a few paces forward to the spot where Yva had been
+dissolved in the devouring fire. Something caught my eye upon the rocky
+floor. I picked it up. It was the ring, or rather the remains of the
+ring that I had given her on that night when we declared our love
+amidst the ruins by the crater lake. She had never worn it on her hand
+but for her own reasons, as she told me, suspended it upon her breast
+beneath her robe. It was an ancient ring that I had bought in Egypt,
+fashioned of gold in which was set a very hard basalt or other black
+stone. On this was engraved the _ank_ or looped cross, which was the
+Egyptian symbol of Life, and round it a snake, the symbol of Eternity.
+The gold was for the most part melted, but the stone, being so hard and
+protected by the shield and asbestos cloak, for such I suppose it was,
+had resisted the fury of the flash. Only now it was white instead of
+black, like a burnt onyx that had known the funeral pyre. Indeed,
+perhaps it was an onyx. I kissed it and hid it away, for it seemed to
+me to convey a greeting and with it a promise.
+
+Then we started, a very sad and dejected trio. Leaving with a shudder
+that vast place where the blue lights played eternally, we came to the
+shaft up and down which the travelling stone pursued its endless path,
+and saw it arrive and depart again.
+
+“I wonder he did not send us that way,” said Bickley, pointing to it.
+
+“I am sure I am very glad it never occurred to him,” answered Bastin,
+“for I am certain that we could not have made the journey again without
+our guide, Yva.”
+
+I looked at him and he ceased. Somehow I could not bear, as yet, to
+hear her beloved name spoken by other lips.
+
+Then we entered the passage that she pointed out to us, and began a
+most terrible journey which, so far as we could judge, for we lost any
+exact count of time, took us about sixty hours. The road, it is true,
+was smooth and unblocked, but the ascent was fearfully steep and
+slippery; so much so that often we were obliged to pull each other up
+it and lie down to rest.
+
+Had it not been for those large, felt-covered bottles of Life-water, I
+am sure we should never have won through. But this marvelous elixir,
+drunk a little at a time, always re-invigorated us and gave us strength
+to push on. Also we had some food, and fortunately our spare oil held
+out, for the darkness in that tunnel was complete. Tommy became so
+exhausted that at length we must carry him by turns. He would have died
+had it not been for the water; indeed I thought that he was going to
+die.
+
+After our last rest and a short sleep, however, he seemed to begin to
+recover, and generally there was something in his manner which
+suggested to us that he knew himself to be not far from the surface of
+the earth towards which we had crawled upwards for thousands upon
+thousands of feet, fortunately without meeting with any zone of heat
+which was not bearable.
+
+We were right, for when we had staggered forward a little further,
+suddenly Tommy ran ahead of us and vanished. Then we heard him barking
+but where we could not see, since the tunnel appeared to take a turn
+and continue, but this time on a downward course, while the sound of
+the barks came from our right. We searched with the lanterns which were
+now beginning to die and found a little hole almost filled with fallen
+pieces of rock. We scooped these away with our hands, making an
+aperture large enough to creep through. A few more yards and we saw
+light, the blessed light of the moon, and in it stood Tommy barking
+hoarsely. Next we heard the sound of the sea. We struggled on
+desperately and presently pushed our way through bushes and vegetation
+on to a steep declivity. Down this we rolled and scrambled, to find
+ourselves at last lying upon a sandy beach, whilst above us the full
+moon shone in the heavens.
+
+Here, with a prayer of thankfulness, we flung ourselves down and slept.
+
+If it had not been for Tommy and we had gone further along the tunnel,
+which I have little doubt stretched on beneath the sea, where, I
+wonder, should we have slept that night?
+
+When we woke the sun was shining high in the heavens. Evidently there
+had been rain towards the dawn, though as we were lying beneath the
+shelter of some broad-leaved tree, from it we had suffered little
+inconvenience. Oh! how beautiful, after our sojourn in those unholy
+caves, were the sun and the sea and the sweet air and the raindrops
+hanging on the leaves.
+
+We did not wake of ourselves; indeed if we had been left alone I am
+sure that we should have slept the clock round, for we were terribly
+exhausted. What woke us was the chatter of a crowd of Orofenans who
+were gathered at a distance from the tree and engaged in staring at us
+in a frightened way, also the barks of Tommy who objected to their
+intrusion. Among the people I recognised our old friend the chief
+Marama by his feather cloak, and sitting up, beckoned to him to
+approach. After a good deal of hesitation he came, walking delicately
+like Agag, and stopping from time to time to study us, as though he
+were not sure that we were real.
+
+“What frightens you, Marama?” I asked him.
+
+“You frighten us, O Friend-from-the-Sea. Whence did you and the Healer
+and the Bellower come and why do your faces look like those of ghosts
+and why is the little black beast so large-eyed and so thin? Over the
+lake we know you did not come, for we have watched day and night;
+moreover there is no canoe upon the shore. Also it would not have been
+possible.”
+
+“Why not?” I asked idly.
+
+“Come and see,” he answered.
+
+Rising stiffly we emerged from beneath the tree and perceived that we
+were at the foot of the cliff against which the remains of the yacht
+had been borne by the great tempest. Indeed there it was within a
+couple of hundred yards of us.
+
+Following Marama we climbed the sloping path which ran up the cliff and
+ascended a knoll whence we could see the lake and the cone of the
+volcano in its centre. At least we used to be able to see this cone,
+but now, at any rate with the naked eye, we could make out nothing,
+except a small brown spot in the midst of the waters of the lake.
+
+“The mountain which rose up many feet in that storm which brought you
+to Orofena, Friend-from-the-Sea, has now sunk till only the very top of
+it is to be seen,” said Marama solemnly. “Even the Rock of Offerings
+has vanished beneath the water, and with it the house that we built for
+you.”
+
+“Yes,” I said, affecting no surprise. “But when did that happen?”
+
+“Five nights ago the world shook, Friend-from-the-Sea, and when the sun
+rose we saw that the mouth of the cave which appeared on the day of
+your coming, had vanished, and that the holy mountain itself had sunk
+deep, so that now only the crest of it is left above the water.”
+
+“Such things happen,” I replied carelessly.
+
+“Yes, Friend-from-the-Sea. Like many other marvels they happen where
+you and your companions are. Therefore we beg you who can arise out of
+the earth like spirits, to leave us at once before our island and all
+of us who dwell thereon are drowned beneath the ocean. Leave us before
+we kill you, if indeed you be men, or die at your hands if, as we
+think, you be evil spirits who can throw up mountains and drag them
+down, and create gods that slay, and move about in the bowels of the
+world.”
+
+“That is our intention, for our business here is done,” I answered
+calmly. “Come now and help us to depart. But first bring us food. Bring
+it in plenty, for we must victual our boat.”
+
+Marama bowed and issued the necessary orders. Indeed food sufficient
+for our immediate needs was already there as an offering, and of it we
+ate with thankfulness.
+
+Then we boarded the ship and examined the lifeboat. Thanks to our
+precautions it was still in very fair order and only needed some little
+caulking which we did with grass fibre and pitch from the stores. After
+this with the help of the Orofenans who worked hard in their desperate
+desire to be rid of us, we drew the boat into the sea, and provisioned
+her with stores from the ship, and with an ample supply of water.
+Everything being ready at last, we waited for the evening wind which
+always blew off shore, to start. As it was not due for half an hour or
+more, I walked back to the tree under which we had slept and tried to
+find the hole whence we had emerged from the tunnel on to the face of
+the cliff.
+
+My hurried search proved useless. The declivity of the cliff was
+covered with tropical growth, and the heavy rain had washed away every
+trace of our descent, and very likely filled the hole itself with
+earth. At any rate, of it I could discover nothing. Then as the breeze
+began to blow I returned to the boat and here bade adieu to Marama, who
+gave me his feather cloak as a farewell gift.
+
+“Good-bye, Friend-from-the-Sea,” he said to me. “We are glad to have
+seen you and thank you for many things. But we do not wish to see you
+any more.”
+
+“Good-bye, Marama,” I answered. “What you say, we echo. At least you
+have now no great lump upon your neck and we have rid you of your
+wizards. But beware of the god Oro who dwells in the mountain, for if
+you anger him he will sink your island beneath the sea.”
+
+“And remember all that I have taught you,” shouted Bastin.
+
+Marama shivered, though whether at the mention of the god Oro, of whose
+powers the Orofenans had so painful a recollection, or at the result of
+Bastin’s teachings, I do not know. And that was the last we shall ever
+see of each other in this world.
+
+The island faded behind us and, sore at heart because of all that we
+had found and lost again, for three days we sailed northward with a
+fair and steady wind. On the fourth evening by an extraordinary stroke
+of fortune, we fell in with an American tramp steamer, trading from the
+South Sea Islands to San Francisco. To the captain, who treated us very
+kindly, we said simply that we were a party of Englishmen whose yacht
+had been wrecked on a small island several hundreds of miles away, of
+which we knew neither the name, if it had one, nor the position.
+
+This story was accepted without question, for such things often happen
+in those latitudes, and in due course we were landed at San Francisco,
+where we made certain depositions before the British Consul as to the
+loss of the yacht _Star of the South_. Then we crossed America, having
+obtained funds by cable, and sailed for England in a steamer flying the
+flag of the United States.
+
+Of the great war which made this desirable I do not speak since it has
+nothing, or rather little, to do with this history. In the end we
+arrived safely at Liverpool, and thence travelled to our homes in
+Devonshire.
+
+Thus ended the history of our dealings with Oro, the super-man who
+began his life more than two hundred and fifty thousand years ago, and
+with his daughter, Yva, whom Bastin still often calls the Glittering
+Lady.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+Bastin Discovers a Resemblance
+
+
+There is little more to tell.
+
+Shortly after our return Bickley, like a patriotic Englishman,
+volunteered for service at the front and departed in the uniform of the
+R.A.M.C. Before he left he took the opportunity of explaining to Bastin
+how much better it was in such a national emergency as existed, to
+belong to a profession in which a man could do something to help the
+bodies of his countrymen that had been broken in the common cause, than
+to one like his in which it was only possible to pelt them with vain
+words.
+
+“You think that, do you, Bickley?” answered Bastin. “Well, I hold that
+it is better to heal souls than bodies, because, as even you will have
+learned out there in Orofena, they last so much longer.”
+
+“I am not certain that I learned anything of the sort,” said Bickley,
+“or even that Oro was more than an ordinary old man. He said that he
+had lived a thousand years, but what was there to prove this except his
+word, which is worth nothing?”
+
+“There was the Lady Yva’s word also, which is worth a great deal,
+Bickley.”
+
+“Yes, but she may have meant a thousand moons. Further, as according to
+her own showing she was still quite young, how could she know her
+father’s age?”
+
+“Quite so, Bickley. But all she actually said was that she was of the
+same age as one of our women of twenty-seven, which may have meant two
+hundred and seventy for all I know. However, putting that aside you
+will admit that they had both slept for two hundred and fifty thousand
+years.”
+
+“I admit that they slept, Bastin, because I helped to awaken them, but
+for how long there is nothing to show, except those star maps which are
+probably quite inaccurate.”
+
+“They are not inaccurate,” I broke in, “for I have had them checked by
+leading astronomers who say that they show a marvelous knowledge of the
+heavens as these were two hundred and fifty thousand years ago, and are
+today.”
+
+Here I should state that those two metal maps and the ring which I gave
+to Yva and found again after the catastrophe, were absolutely the only
+things connected with her or with Oro that we brought away with us. The
+former I would never part with, feeling their value as evidence.
+Therefore, when we descended to the city Nyo and the depths beneath, I
+took them with me wrapped in cloth in my pocket. Thus they were
+preserved. Everything else went when the Rock of Offerings and the cave
+mouth sank beneath the waters of the lake.
+
+This may have happened either in the earth tremor, which no doubt was
+caused by the advance of the terrific world-balance, or when the
+electric power, though diffused and turned by Yva’s insulated body,
+struck the great gyroscope’s travelling foot with sufficient strength,
+not to shift it indeed on to the right-hand path as Oro had designed,
+but still to cause it to stagger and even perhaps to halt for the
+fraction of a second. Even this pause may have been enough to cause
+convulsions of the earth above; indeed, I gathered from Marama and
+other Orofenans that such convulsions had occurred on and around the
+island at what must have corresponded with that moment of the loosing
+of the force.
+
+This loss of our belongings in the house of the Rock of Offerings was
+the more grievous because among them were some Kodak photographs which
+I had taken, including portraits of Oro and one of Yva that was really
+excellent, to say nothing of pictures of the mouth of the cave and of
+the ruins and crater lake above. How bitterly I regret that I did not
+keep these photographs in my pocket with the map-plates.
+
+“Even if the star-maps are correct, still it proves nothing,” said
+Bickley, “since possibly Oro’s astronomical skill might have enabled
+him to draw that of the sky at any period, though I allow this is
+impossible.”
+
+“I doubt his taking so much trouble merely to deceive three wanderers
+who lacked the knowledge even to check them,” I said. “But all this
+misses the point, Bickley. However long they had slept, that man and
+woman did arise from seeming death. They did dwell in those marvelous
+caves with their evidences of departed civilisations, and they did show
+us that fearful, world-wandering gyroscope. These things we saw.”
+
+“I admit that we saw them, Arbuthnot, and I admit that they are one and
+all beyond human comprehension. To that extent I am converted, and, I
+may add, humbled,” said Bickley.
+
+“So you ought to be,” exclaimed Bastin, “seeing that you always swore
+that there was nothing in the world that is not capable of a perfectly
+natural explanation.”
+
+“Of which all these things may be capable, Bastin, if only we held the
+key.”
+
+“Very well, Bickley, but how do you explain what the Lady Yva did? I
+may tell you now what she commanded me to conceal at the time, namely,
+that she became a Christian; so much so that by her own will, I
+baptised and confirmed her on the very morning of her sacrifice.
+Doubtless it was this that changed her heart so much that she became
+willing, of course without my knowledge, to leave everything she cared
+for,” here he looked hard at me, “and lay down her life to save the
+world, half of which she believed was about to be drowned by Oro. Now,
+considering her history and upbringing, I call this a spiritual marvel,
+much greater than any you now admit, and one you can’t explain,
+Bickley.”
+
+“No, I cannot explain, or, at any rate, I will not try,” he answered,
+also staring hard at me. “Whatever she believed, or did not believe,
+and whatever would or would not have happened, she was a great and
+wonderful woman whose memory I worship.”
+
+“Quite so, Bickley, and now perhaps you see my point, that what you
+describe as mere vain words may also be helpful to mankind; more so,
+indeed, than your surgical instruments and pills.”
+
+“You couldn’t convert Oro, anyway,” exclaimed Bickley, with irritation.
+
+“No, Bickley; but then I have always understood that the devil is
+beyond conversion because he is beyond repentance. You see, I think
+that if that old scoundrel was not the devil himself, at any rate he
+was a bit of him, and, if I am right, I am not ashamed to have failed
+in his case.”
+
+“Even Oro was not utterly bad, Bastin,” I said, reflecting on certain
+traits of mercy that he had shown, or that I dreamed him to have shown
+in the course of our mysterious midnight journeys to various parts of
+the earth. Also I remembered that he had loved Tommy and for his sake
+had spared our lives. Lastly, I do not altogether wonder that he came
+to certain hasty conclusions as to the value of our modern
+civilisations.
+
+“I am very glad to hear it, Humphrey, since while there is a spark left
+the whole fire may burn up again, and I believe that to the Divine
+mercy there are no limits, though Oro will have a long road to travel
+before he finds it. And now I have something to say. It has troubled me
+very much that I was obliged to leave those Orofenans wandering in a
+kind of religious twilight.”
+
+“You couldn’t help that,” said Bickley, “seeing that if you had
+stopped, by now you would have been wandering in religious light.”
+
+“Still, I am not sure that I ought not to have stopped. I seem to have
+deserted a field that was open to me. However, it can’t be helped,
+since it is certain that we could never find that island again, even if
+Oro has not sunk it beneath the sea, as he is quite capable of doing,
+to cover his tracks, so to speak. So I mean to do my best in another
+field by way of atonement.”
+
+“You are not going to become a missionary?” I said.
+
+“No, but with the consent of the Bishop, who, I think, believes that my
+_locum_ got on better in the parish than I do, as no doubt was the
+case, I, too, have volunteered for the Front, and been accepted as a
+chaplain of the 201st Division.”
+
+“Why, that’s mine!” said Bickley.
+
+“Is it? I am very glad, since now we shall be able to pursue our
+pleasant arguments and to do our best to open each other’s minds.”
+
+“You fellows are more fortunate than I am,” I remarked. “I also
+volunteered, but they wouldn’t take me, even as a Tommy, although I
+misstated my age. They told me, or at least a specialist whom I saw did
+afterwards, that the blow I got on the head from that sorcerer’s boy—”
+
+“I know, I know!” broke in Bickley almost roughly. “Of course, things
+might go wrong at any time. But with care you may live to old age.”
+
+“I am sorry to hear it,” I said with a sigh, “at least I think I am.
+Meanwhile, fortunately there is much that I can do at home; indeed a
+course of action has been suggested to me by an old friend who is now
+in authority.”
+
+Once more Bickley and Bastin in their war-stained uniforms were dining
+at my table and on the very night of their return from the Front, which
+was unexpected. Indeed Tommy nearly died of joy on hearing their voices
+in the hall. They, who played a worthy part in the great struggle, had
+much to tell me, and naturally their more recent experiences had
+overlaid to some extent those which we shared in the mysterious island
+of Orofena. Indeed we did not speak of these until, just as they were
+going away, Bastin paused beneath a very beautiful portrait of my late
+wife, the work of an artist famous for his power of bringing out the
+inner character, or what some might call the soul, of the sitter. He
+stared at it for a while in his short-sighted way, then said: “Do you
+know, Arbuthnot, it has sometimes occurred to me, and never more than
+at this moment, that although they were different in height and so on,
+there was a really curious physical resemblance between your late wife
+and the Lady Yva.”
+
+“Yes,” I answered. “I think so too.”
+
+Bickley also examined the portrait very carefully, and as he did so I
+saw him start. Then he turned away, saying nothing.
+
+Such is the summary of all that has been important in my life. It is, I
+admit, an odd story and one which suggests problems that I cannot
+solve. Bastin deals with such things by that acceptance which is the
+privilege and hall-mark of faith; Bickley disposes, or used to dispose,
+of them by a blank denial which carries no conviction, and least of all
+to himself.
+
+What is life to most of us who, like Bickley, think ourselves learned?
+A round, short but still with time and to spare wherein to be dull and
+lonesome; a fateful treadmill to which we were condemned we know not
+how, but apparently through the casual passions of those who went
+before us and are now forgotten, causing us, as the Bible says, to be
+born in sin; up which we walk wearily we know not why, seeming never to
+make progress; off which we fall outworn we know not when or whither.
+
+Such upon the surface it appears to be, nor in fact does our
+ascertained knowledge, as Bickley would sum it up, take us much
+further. No prophet has yet arisen who attempted to define either the
+origin or the reasons of life. Even the very Greatest of them Himself
+is quite silent on this matter. We are tempted to wonder why. Is it
+because life as expressed in the higher of human beings, is, or will be
+too vast, too multiform and too glorious for any definition which we
+could understand? Is it because in the end it will involve for some, if
+not for all, majesty on unfathomed majesty, and glory upon unimaginable
+glory such as at present far outpass the limits of our thought?
+
+The experiences which I have recorded in these pages awake in my heart
+a hope that this may be so. Bastin is wont, like many others, to talk
+in a light fashion of Eternity without in the least comprehending what
+he means by that gigantic term. It is not too much to say that
+Eternity, something without beginning and without end, and involving,
+it would appear, an everlasting changelessness, is a state beyond human
+comprehension. As a matter of fact we mortals do not think in
+constellations, so to speak, or in æons, but by the measures of our own
+small earth and of our few days thereon. We cannot really conceive of
+an existence stretching over even one thousand years, such as that
+which Oro claimed and the Bible accords to a certain early race of men,
+omitting of course his two thousand five hundred centuries of sleep.
+And yet what is this but one grain in the hourglass of time, one day in
+the lost record of our earth, of its sisters the planets and its father
+the sun, to say nothing of the universes beyond?
+
+It is because I have come in touch with a prolonged though perfectly
+finite existence of the sort, that I try to pass on the reflections
+which the fact of it awoke in me. There are other reflections connected
+with Yva and the marvel of her love and its various manifestations
+which arise also. But these I keep to myself. They concern the wonder
+of woman’s heart, which is a microcosm of the hopes and fears and
+desires and despairs of this humanity of ours whereof from age to age
+she is the mother.
+
+HUMPHREY ARBUTHNOT.
+
+
+
+
+NOTE By J. R. Bickley, M.R.C.S.
+
+
+Within about six months of the date on which he wrote the last words of
+this history of our joint adventures, my dear friend, Humphrey
+Arbuthnot, died suddenly, as I had foreseen that probably he would do,
+from the results of the injury he received in the island of Orofena.
+
+He left me the sole executor to his will, under which he divided his
+property into three parts. One third he bequeathed to me, one third
+(which is strictly tied up) to Bastin, and one third to be devoted,
+under my direction, to the advancement of Science.
+
+His end appears to have been instantaneous, resulting from an effusion
+of blood upon the brain. When I was summoned I found him lying dead by
+the writing desk in his library at Fulcombe Priory. He had been writing
+at the desk, for on it was a piece of paper on which appear these
+words: “_I have seen her. I_—” There the writing ends, not stating whom
+he thought he had seen in the moments of mental disturbance or delusion
+which preceded his decease.
+
+Save for certain verbal corrections, I publish this manuscript without
+comment as the will directs, only adding that it sets out our mutual
+experiences very faithfully, though Arbuthnot’s deductions from them
+are not always my own.
+
+I would say also that I am contemplating another visit to the South Sea
+Islands, where I wish to make some further investigations. I dare say,
+however, that these will be barren of results, as the fountain of
+Life-water is buried for ever, nor, as I think, will any human being
+stand again in the Hades-like halls of Nyo. It is probable also that it
+would prove impossible to rediscover the island of Orofena, if indeed
+that volcanic land still remains above the waters of the deep.
+
+Now that he is a very wealthy man, Bastin talks of accompanying me for
+purposes quite different from my own, but on the whole I hope he will
+abandon this idea. I may add that when he learned of his unexpected
+inheritance he talked much of the “deceitfulness of riches,” but that
+he has not as yet taken any steps to escape their golden snare. Indeed
+he now converses of his added “opportunities of usefulness,” I gather
+in connection with missionary enterprise.
+
+J. R. BICKLEY.
+
+
+_P.S_.—I forgot to state that the spaniel Tommy died within three days
+of his owner. The poor little beast was present in the room at the time
+of Arbuthnot’s passing away, and when found seemed to be suffering from
+shock. From that moment Tommy refused food and finally was discovered
+quite dead and lying by the body on Marama’s feather cloak, which
+Arbuthnot often used as a dressing-gown. As Bastin raised some
+religious objections, I arranged without his knowledge that the dog’s
+ashes should rest not far from those of the master and mistress whom it
+loved so well.
+
+J.R.B.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1368 ***