 CHAPTER V of Ardath by Marie Corelli As he uttered the last words, his eyes darkened into a soft expression of musing tenderness, and he remained silent for many minutes, during which the entranced, almost unearthly beauty of his face underwent a gradual change. The mystic light that had for a time transfigured it faded and died away, and by degrees he recovered all his ordinary self-possession. Presently glancing at Heliobus, who stood patiently waiting till he should have overcome whatever emotions were at work in his mind, he smiled. You must think me mad, he said. Perhaps I am, but if it so, it is the madness of love that has seized me. Love! It is a passion I have never known before. I have used it as a mere thread. We're on to string madrigals, a background of uncertain tint, serving to show off the brighter hues of Posey. But now, now I am enslaved and bound, conquered and utterly subdued by love. Love for the sweetest, queenliest, most radiant creature that ever captured or commanded the worship of man. I may seem mad, but I know I am sane. I realize the actual things of this world about me. My mind is clear, my thoughts are collected, and yet I repeat, I love, ay, with all the force and fervor of this strongly beating human heart of mine. And he touched his breast as he spoke. And it comes to this most wise and worthy Heliobus. If your spells have conjured up this vision of immortal youth and grace and purity that has suddenly assumed such sovereignty over my life, then you must do something further. You must find or teach me how to find the living reality of my dream. Heliobus surveyed him with some wonder and commiseration. A moment ago, and you yourself declared your dream was true, he observed this, and he pointed to the manuscript on the table. Seemed to you sufficient to prove it. Now you have altered your opinion. Why? I have worked no spells upon you, and I am entirely ignorant as to what your recent experience has been. Moreover, what do you mean by a living reality, the flesh and blood, bone and substance that perishes into brief seventy years or so, and crumbles into indistinguishable dust? Surely, if, as I conjecture from your words, you have seen one of the fair inhabitants of higher spheres than ours, you would not drag her spiritual and death unconscious brightness down to the level of the reality of a merely human life? Nay, if you would, you could not. Alwyn looked at him inquiringly and with a perplexed air. You speak in enigmas, he said somewhat vexedly. However, the whole thing is an enigma and would puzzle the most sagacious head, that the physical workings of the brain in a state of trance should arouse in me a passion of love for an imaginary being, and, at the same time, enable me to write a poem such as must make the fame of any man is certainly a remarkable and noteworthy result of scientific mesmerism. Now, my dear sir, interrupted Heliobus in a tone of good-natured remonstrance, do not, if you have any respect for science at all, do not, I beg of you, talk to me of the physical workings of a dead brain. A dead brain, echoed Alwyn, what do you mean? What I say, returned Heliobus compositely, physical workings of any kind are impossible unless the motive power of physical life be in action. You, regarded as a human creature merely, had, during several hours, practically ceased to be, the vital principle no longer existed in your body, having taken its departure with its inseparable companion, the soul. When it returned, it set the clockwork of your material mechanism in motion again, obeying the sovereignty of the spirit that sought to express, by material means, the utterance of heaven-inspired thought. Thus your hand mechanically found its way to the pen, thus you wrote, unconscious of what you were writing, yielding yourself entirely to the guidance of the spiritual part of your nature, which, at that particular juncture, was absolutely predominant, though now, weighted anew by earthly influences, it has partially relaxed its supernal sway. All this I readily perceive and understand. But what you did, and where you were conducted, during the time of your complete severance from the tenement of clay, in which you are again imprisoned, this I have yet to learn. While Heliobus was speaking, Alwyn's countenance had grown vaguely troubled, and now, into his deep, poetic eyes, there came a look of sudden penitence. True, he said softly, almost humbly, I will tell you everything while I remember it, though it is not likely I shall ever forget. I believe there must be some truth, after all, in what you say concerning the soul. At any rate, I do not at present feel inclined to call your theories in question. To begin with, I find myself unable altogether to explain what it was that happened to me during my conversation with you last night. It was a very strange sensation. I recollect that I had expressed a wish to be placed under your magnetic or electric influence, and that you had refused my request. Then an odd idea suggested itself to me, namely that I could, if I chose, compel your assent. And filled with this notion, I think I addressed you, or was about to address you in a rather peremptory manner, when, all at once, a flash of blinding light struck me fiercely across the eyes like a scourge, stung with a hot pain, and dazzled by the glare, I turned away from you and fled, or so it seemed, fled on my own instinctive impulse into darkness. He paused and drew a long shuttering breath, like one who has narrowly escaped imminent destruction. Darkness, he went on, in low accents that thrilled with the memory of a past fear. Dense, horrible, frightful darkness, darkness that palpitated heavily with the labored motion of unseen things. Darkness that clung and closed about me in masses of clammy, tangible thickness. Its advancing and resistless weight rolled over me like a huge, waveless ocean, and absorbed within it. I was drawn down, down, down toward some hidden, impalpable, but all supreme agony. The dull, unceasing throbs of which I felt, yet could not name. Oh God, I cried aloud, abandoning myself to wild despair. Oh God, where art thou? Then I heard a great rushing sound as of a strong wind beaten through with wings, and a voice, grand and sweet as a golden trumpet, blown suddenly in the silence of night, answered, here and everywhere. With that a slanting stream of opaline radiance cleft the gloom with the sweep of a sword blade, and I was caught up quickly. I know not how, for I saw nothing. Again he paused and looked wistfully at Heliobus, who in turn regarded him with gentle steadfastness. It was wonderful, terrible, he continued slowly, yet beautiful, that invisible strength that rescued, surrounded, and uplifted me, and here he hesitated, and a faint flush colored his cheeks, and stole up to the roots of his clustering hair. Dream or no dream, I feel I cannot now altogether reject the idea of an existing divinity. In brief, I believe in God. Why? asked Heliobus quietly, all when met his gaze, frankly, and with a soft brightening of his handsome features. I cannot give you any logical reason, he said. Moreover, logical reasoning would not now affect me in a manner which seems to me more full of conviction than any logic. I believe simply because I believe. Heliobus smiled, a very warm and kindly smile, but said nothing, and all when resumed his narrative. As I tell you, I was caught up, snatched out of that black profundity with inconceivable swiftness, and when the ascending movement ceased, I found myself floating lightly, like a wind-blown leaf, through twining arches of amber mist, colored here and there with rays of living flame. I heard whispers and fragments of song and speech, all sweeter than the sweetest of our known music, and still I saw nothing. Presently, someone called me by name. Theos! Theos! I strove to answer, but I had no words wherewith to match that silver-toned, far-reaching utterance. And once again the rich vibrating notes peeled through the vaporous fire-tinted air. Theos! My beloved! Higher! Higher! All my being thrilled and quivered to that call. I yearned to obey. I struggled to rise. My efforts were in vain, when, to my joy and wonder, a small invisible hand, delicate yet strong, clasped mine, and I was born aloft with breathless, indescribable lightning-like rapidity, on, on, and ever upward, till at last a lighting on a smooth, fair turf, thick-grown with fragrant blossoms of strange loveliness and soft hues, I beheld her, and she bade me welcome. And who? questioned Heliobus in tones of hushed reverence. Who was this being that thus enchants your memory? I know not, replied Alwyn, with a dreamy smile of rapture on his lips and in his eyes, and yet her face, oh, the entrancing beauty of that face, was not altogether unfamiliar. I felt that I must have loved and lost her ages upon ages ago, crowned with white flowers and robed in a garb that seemed spun from mid-summer moonbeams she stood. A smiling maiden sweetness in a paradise of glad sights and sounds. Ah, Eve, with the first sunrise radiance on her brows, was not more divinely fair. Venus, new springing from the silver seafoam, was not more queenly glorious. I will remind thee of all thou hast forgotten, she said, and I understood her soft, half reproachful accents. It is not yet too late. Thou hast lost much and suffered much, and thou hast blindly erred. But notwithstanding all these things, thou art my beloved since these many thousand days. Days which the world counts as years, murmured Heliobus, you saw no one but her. No one, we were alone together. A vast woodland stretched before us. She took my hand and led me beneath broad, arching trees, to wear a lake, silvered by some strange radiance, glittered diamond-like in the stirrings of a balmy wind. Here she bade me rest and sank gently on the flowery bank beside me. Then, viewing her more closely, I greatly feared her beauty, for I saw a wondrous halo wide and dazzling, a golden oreole that spread itself around her, incintillating points of light, light that reflected itself also on me, and bathed me in its luminous splendor. And as I gazed at her in speechless awe, she leaned toward me nearer and nearer, her deep, pure eyes burning softly into mine. Her hands touched me, her arms closed round me, her bright head lay in all its shining loveliness on my breast. A tremulous ecstasy thrilled me as with fire. I gazed upon her as one might gaze on some fluttering, rare plumaged bird. I dared not move or speak. I drank her sweetness down into my soul. Now and then a sound as of distant harps playing broke the love-weighted silence, and thus we remained together, a heavenly breathing space of wordless rapture, till suddenly and swiftly, as though she had received an invisible summons, she arose, her looks expressing a saintly patience, and laying her two hands upon my brows. Right! she said. Right and proclaim a message of hope to the sorrowful star. Right and let thine utterance be a true echo of the eternal music with which these spheres are filled. Right to the rhythmic beat of the harmonies within thee. For lo, once more, as in a foretime, my changeless love renews in thee the power of perfect song. With that she moved away serenely and beckoned me to follow. I obeyed in haste and trembling, long rays of rosy light swept after her like trailing wings. And as she walked, the golden nimbus round her form glowed with a thousand brilliant and changeful hues, like the rainbows seen in the spray of falling water. Through lush green grass thick with blossom, under groves heavy with fragrant leaves, and laden with the songs of birds, over meadows cool and mountain sheltered. On we went. She, like the goddess of advancing spring, I eagerly treading in her radiant footsteps. And presently we came to a place where two paths met, one all overgrown with azure and white flowers that ascended away and away into undissurned distance, the other sloping steeply downward and full of shadows, yet dimly illumined by a pale, mysterious splendor, like frosty moonlight streaming on sad-colored seas. Here she turned and faced me, and I saw her divine eyes droop with the moisture of unshed tears. Theos, Theos, she cried, and the passionate cadence of her voice was as the singing of a nightingale in lonely woodlands. Again, again we must part, part, oh my beloved, my beloved, how long wilt thou sever me from thy soul and leave me alone and sorrowful amid the joys of heaven. As she thus spoke, a sense of utter shame and loss and failure overwhelmed me, pierced to the very core of my being by an unexplained, yet most bitter remorse. I cast myself down in deep abasement before her. I caught her glittering robe. I strove to say, forgive, but I was speechless as a convicted trader in the presence of a wronged queen. All at once the air about us was rent by a great noise of thunder intermingled with triumphal music. She drew her sheenie garment from my touch in haste, and stooping to me where I knelt, she kissed my forehead. Thy road lies there, she murmured into quick soft tones, pointing to the vista of varying light and shadow, my meander. And she looked toward the flower garlanded avenue. Hason, it is time thou wert far hence. Return to thine own star, lest its portals be closed on thee forever, and thou be plunged into deeper darkness. Seek thou the field of Ardaeth, as Christ lives I will meet thee there. Farewell! With these words she left me, passing away, arrayed in glory, treading on flowers, and ever ascending till she had disappeared. While I, stricken with a great repentance, went slowly, as she bade me, down into the shadow, and a rippling breeze like melody, as of harps and lutes most tenderly attuned, followed me as I descended. And now, said Alwyn, interrupting his narrative, and speaking with emphatic decision, surely there remains but one thing for me to do that is to name of Ardaeth. Heliobus smiled gravely. Nay, if you consider the whole episode a dream, he observed. Why trouble yourself? Dreams are seldom realized, and as to the name of Ardaeth, have you ever heard it before? Never, replied Alwyn. Still, if there be such a place on this planet, I will most certainly journey thither. Maybe you know something of its whereabouts. Finish your story, said Heliobus, quietly evading the question. I am curious to hear the end of your strange adventure. There is not much more to tell. And Alwyn sighed a little as he spoke. I wandered further and further into the gloom, oppressed by many thoughts, and troubled by vague fears. Till presently it grew so dark that I could scarcely see where I was going, though I was able to guide myself in the path that stretched before me by means of the pale, luminous rays that frequently pierced the deepening obscurity. And these rays, I now noticed, fell ever downward in the form of a cross. As I went on, I was pursued, as it were, by the sound of those delicate harmonies played on invisible, sweet strings. And after a while, I perceived at the extreme end of the long, dim vista, a door standing open, through which I entered, and found myself alone in a quiet room. Here I sat down to rest. The melody of the distant harps and loots still floated in soft echoes on the silence. And presently words came breaking through the music like buds breaking from their surrounding leaves, words that I was compelled to write down as quickly as I heard them. And I wrote on and on, obeying that symphonious and rhythmical dictation with a sense of growing ease and pleasure, when all suddenly a dense darkness overcame me, followed by a gradual dawning gray and golden light. The words dispersed into fragmentary half-syllables. The music died away. I started up amazed to find myself here, here in this monastery of Lars, listening to the chanting of the Angelus. He ceased and looked wistfully out through the window at the white encircling rim of the opposite snow mountains, now bathed in the full splendor of noon. Heliobus advanced and laid one hand kindly on his shoulder. And do not forget, he said, that you have brought with you from the higher regions a poem that will in all probability make your fame. Fame, fame, next grandest word to God! So wrote one of your craft, and no doubt you echo the sentiment. Have you not desired to blazen your name on the open scroll of the world? Well, now you can have your wish. The world waits to receive your signature. That is all very well, and Alwynne smiled rather dubiously as he glanced at the manuscript on the table beside him. But the question is, considering how it was written, can I dare I call this poem mine? Most assuredly you can, returned Heliobus, though your hesitation is a worthy one, and as rare as it is worthy. Well, would it be for all poets and artists were they to pause thus and consider before rashly calling their work their own? Self appreciation is the death blow of genius. The poem is as much yours as your life is yours, no more and no less. In brief you have recovered your lost inspiration. The lately dumb oracle speaks again, and are you not satisfied? No, said Alwynne quickly, with a sudden brightening of his eyes as he met the keenly searching glance that accompanied this question. No, for I love, and the desire of love burns in me as ardently as the desire of fame. He paused, and in quieter tones continued, you see I speak freely and frankly to you as though, and he laughed a little, as though I were a good Catholic and you my father confessor. Good heavens, if some of the men I know in London were to hear me they would think me utterly crazed, but craze or no craze, a feel I shall never be satisfied now, till I find out whether there is anywhere in the world a place called Ardath. Can you, will you help me in the search? I am almost ashamed to ask you for you have already done so much for me and I really owe to your wonderful power my trance or soul liberty or whatever it may be called. You owe me nothing, interposed Heliobus calmly, not even thanks. Your own will accomplished your freedom and I am not responsible for either your departure or your return. It was a predestined occurrence, yet perfectly scientific and easy of explanation. Your inward force attracted mine down upon you in one strong current with the result that your spirit instantly parted asunder from your body and in that released condition you experienced what you have described. But I had no more to do with that experience than I shall have with your journey to the field of Ardath should you decide to go there. There is an Ardath then cried Alwyn excitedly. Heliobus eyed him with something of scorn. Naturally are you still so much of a skeptic that you think an angel would have bidden you seek a place that had no existence? Oh yes I see you are inclined to treat your ethereal adventure as a mere dream but I know it was a reality more real than anything in this present world and turning to the loaded bookshelves he took down a large volume and spread it open on the table. You know this book he asked Alwyn glanced at it the Bible of course he replied indifferently everybody knows it pardon and Heliobus smiled it would be more correct to say nobody knows it to read is not always to understand there are meanings and mysteries in it which have never yet been penetrated and which only the highest and most spiritually gifted intellects can ever hope to unravel now and he turned over the pages carefully till he came to the one he sought I think there is something here that will interest you listen and he read aloud the angel Uriel came unto me and said go into a field of flowers where no house is builded and eat only the flowers of the field taste no flesh drink no wine but eat flowers only and pray unto the highest continually and then will I come and talk to thee so I went my way into the field which is called Ardath the very place exclaimed Alwyn eagerly bending over the sacred book then drawing back with a gesture of disappointment he added but you are reading from Esdras the apocrypha an utterly unreliable source of information on the contrary as reliable as any history ever written rejoined Heliobeth calmly study it for yourself you will see that the prophet was at that time resident in Babylon the field he mentions was near the city yes was interrupted Alwyn incredulously was and is continued Heliobeth no earthquake has crumbled it no sea has invaded it and no house has been builded there on it is as it was then a waste field lying about four miles west of the Babylonian ruins and there is nothing whatever to hinder you from journeying thither when you please Alwyn's expression as he heard this was one of stupefied amazement part of his so called dream had actually proved itself true a field of our death actually existed you are certain of what you say he demanded positively certain returned Heliobeth there was a silence during which a little tinkling bell resounded in the outer corridor followed by the tread of sandaled feet on the stone pavement Heliobeth closed the Bible and returned it to its shelf that was the dinner bell he announced cheerfully will you accompany me to the refectory Mr. Alwyn we can talk further of this matter afterward Alwyn roused himself from the fit of abstraction into which he had fallen and gathering together the loose sheets of his so strangely written manuscript he arranged them all in an orderly heap without speaking then he looked up and met the earnest eyes of Heliobeth with an expression of settled resolve in his own I shall set out for Babylon tomorrow he said quietly as well go there as anywhere and on the result of my journey I shall stake my future in the meantime he hesitated then suddenly extending his hand with a frank grace that became him well in spite of my Bruce quarry last night I trust we are friends why most assuredly we are returned Heliobeth's heartily pressing the proffered palm you had your doubts of me and you have them still but what of that I take no offense at unbelief I pity those who suffer from its destroying influence too profoundly to find room in my heart for anger moreover I never tried to convert anybody it is so much more satisfactory when skeptics convert themselves as you are unconsciously doing come shall we join the brethren over all winds face flitted a transient shade of uneasiness and hot shoe I would rather they knew nothing about all this he began make your mind quite easy on that score rejoined Heliobeth none of my companions here are aware of your recent departure except my very old personal friend Hilarion who with myself saw your body while in its state of temporary death but he is one of those remarkably rare wise men who know when it is best to be silent then again he is ignorant as to the results of your soul trans migration and will as far as I am concerned remain in ignorance your confidence I assure you is perfectly safe with me as safe as though it had been received under the sacred seal of confession with this understanding Hilarion seemed relieved and satisfied and there upon they left the apartment together End of Chapter 5 Chapter 6 of Ardath by Marie Carelli this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Nur-Hama and the original estrus later on in the afternoon of the same day when the sun poised above the western mountain range appeared to be lazily looking about him with a drowsy golden smile a farewell before descending to his rest Alvin was once more alone in the library twilight shadows were already gathering in the corners of the long low room but he had moved the writing table to the window in order to enjoy the magnificence of the surrounding scenery and sat where the light fell full upon his face as he leaned back in his chair with his hands in an attitude of pleased half meditative vindulence he had just finished reading from beginning to end the poem he had composed in his trance there was not a line in it he could have wished altered not a word that would have been better omitted the only thing it lacked was a title and this was the question on which he now pondered the subject of the poem itself was not new to him it was a story he had known from boyhood an old eastern love legend fantastically beautiful as many such legends are full of grace and passionate fervor a theme fitted for the nightingale utterance of a singer like the Persian Hafitz though even Hafitz would have found it difficult to match the exquisitely choice language and delicately ringing rhythm in which this quaint idol of long past ages was now most perfectly set like a jewel in fine gold Alwyn himself entirely realized the splendid literary value of the composition he knew that nothing more artistic in conception or more finished in treatment had appeared since the saint Agnes of Keats and as he thought of this he yielded to a growing sense of self complacent satisfaction which gradually destroyed all the deeply devout humility he had at first felt concerning the high the mysterious origin of his inspiration the old inherent pride of his nature reasserted itself he reviewed all the circumstances of his trance in the most practical manner and calling to mind how the poet Coleridge had improvised the delicious fragment of Kubla Khan in a dream he began to see nothing so very remarkable in his own unconscious production of a complete poem while under mesmeric or magnetic influences after all he mused the matter is simple enough when one reasons it out I have been unable to write anything worth writing for a long time and I told Eliebus as much he knowing my apathetic condition of brain employed his force accordingly though he denies having done so and this poem is evidently the result of my long pent up thoughts that struggled for utterance yet could not before find vent in words the only mysterious part of the affair is this field of our dad how its name haunts me and how her face shines before the eyes of my memory that she should be a phantom of my own creation seems impossible for when have I even in my wild districts of fancy ever imagined a creature half so fair his gaze rested dreamily on the opposite snow clad peaks above which large fleecy clouds themselves like moving mountains were slowly passing their edges glowing with purple and gold as they neared the sinking sun presently rousing himself he took up a pen and first of all addressing an envelope to the Honorable Francis Villiers constitutional club London he rapidly wrote off the following letter monastery of Lars pass of Dario Caucasus my dear Villiers start not at the above address I'm not yet vowed to perpetual seclusion silence or celibacy that I have all men in the world should be in a monastery will seem to you who know my prejudices in the last degree absurd nevertheless here I am though here I do not remain as it is my fixed intention tomorrow at daybreak to depart straight away from hence enroute for the supposed sight and ruins of Babylon yes Babylon why not perished greatness has always been a more interesting subject of contemplation to me than existing littleness and I dare say I shall wander among the tumuli of the ancient fallen city with more satisfaction than in the hot humanity packed streets London Paris or Vienna all destined to become tumuli in their turn moreover I'm on the track of an adventure on the search for a new sensation having tried nearly all the old ones and found them nil you know my nomadic and restless disposition perhaps there is something of the Greek gypsy about me a craving for constant change of scene and surroundings however as my absence from you in England is likely to be somewhat prolonged I send you in the meantime a poem there season your admiration for a while and hear me out patiently I am perfectly aware of all you would say concerning the utter folly and uselessness of writing poetry at all in this present age of milk and watery literature shilling sensationals and lascivious society dramas and I have a very keen recollection too of the way in which my last book was maltreated by the entire press good heavens how the critics yelp like dogs about my heels snapping sniffing and snarling I could have wept then like the sensitive fool I was I can laugh now and brief my friend for you are my friend and the best of all possible good fellows I've made up my mind to conquer those that have risen against me to break frantic and preconceived opinions and to climb the heights of fame regardless of the little popular pipers of tame that obstruct my path and blow their tin whistles in the public ears to drown if possible my song I will be heard and to this end I pin my faith on the work I now transmit to your care have it published immediately and in the best style I will cover all expenses advertised sufficiently yet with becoming modesty for puffery is a thing I heartily despise and where the whole press to turn round and applaud me as much as it has hitherto abused and ridiculed me I would not have one of its penny lines of condescendingly ignorant approval quoted in connection with what must be a perfectly unastentatious and simple announcement of this new production from my pen the manuscript is exceptionally clear even for me who do not as a male write a very bad scroll so that you can scarcely have much bother with the proof correcting though even were this the case and the printers turned out to be incorrigible blockheads and blunderers I know you would grudge neither time nor trouble expended in my service good Frank Villiers how much I owe you and yet I willingly incur another debt of gratitude by placing this matter in your hands and am content to borrow more of your friendship but only believe me in order to repay it again with the truest interest by the way do you remember when we visited the last Paris salon together how fascinated we were by one picture the head of a monk whose eyes looked out like a veritable illumination from under the folds of a drooping white cow and on referring to our catalogs we found it described as the portrait of one Heliobus an eastern mystic a psychist formerly well known in Paris but since retired into monastic life well I've discovered him here he is apparently the superior or chief of this order though what order it is and when found it is more than I can tell there are 15 monks all together living contentedly in this old half ruined habitation among the barren steeps of the frozen Caucasus splendid princely looking fellows all of them Heliobus himself being an exceptionally fine specimen of his race I've just dined with the whole community and have been fairly astonished by the fluent brilliancy and wit of their conversation they speak all languages English included and no subject comes amiss to them for they are familiar with the latest political situations in all countries they know all the newest scientific discoveries which by the by they smile at plantly as though these last were mere child's play and they discuss our modern social problems and theories with a socratic like incisiveness and composure such as our parliamentary howlers would do well to imitate their doctrine is but I will not bore you by a theological disquisition enough to say it is founded on Christianity yet at present I don't quite know what to make of it and now my dear billiards farewell and answer to this is unnecessary besides I can give you no address as it is uncertain where I shall be for the next two or three months if I don't get as much pleasure as I anticipate from the contemplation of the Babylonian ruins I shall probably take up my abode in Baghdad for a time and try to fancy myself back in the days of good Harun in any rate whatever becomes of me I know I haven't trusted my poem to safe hands and all I ask of you is that it may be brought out with the least possible delay for its immediate publication seems to me just now the most vitally important thing in the world except except the adventure in which I am at present engaged of which more hereafter when we meet until then think as well of me as you can and believe me ever and most truly your friend theos all when this letter finished folded and sealed all when once more took up his manuscript and meditated anew concerning its title stay why not call it by the name of the ideal heroine whose heart passion and sorrow formed the nucleus of the legend a name that he in very truth was all unconscious of having chosen but which occurred frequently with musical persistence throughout the entire poem near a Hama it had a soft sound it seemed to breathe of eastern Langer and love singing it was surely the best title he could have straight way deciding there on he wrote it clearly at the top of the first page thus Newer Hama a love legend of the past then turning to the end he signed his own name with a bold flourish thus attesting his indisputable right to the authorship of what was not only destined to be the most famous poetical masterpiece of the day but was also to prove the most astonishing complex and humiliating problem ever suggested to his brain carefully numbering the pages he folded them in a neat packet which he tied strongly and sealed then addressing it to his friend he put letter and packet together and eyed them both somewhat wistfully feeling that with them went his great chance of immortal fame immortal fame would a grand vista of fair possibilities those words unveiled to his imagination lost in pleasant musings he looked out again on the landscape the sun had sunk behind the mountains so far that nothing was left of his glowing presence but a golden rim from which great glaring rays spread upward like lifted lances poised against the purple and rosy clouds a slight click caused by the opening of the door disturbed his reverie he turned round in his chair and half rose from it as entered carrying a small richly chased silver casket ah good aliebus here you are at last he said with a smile I began to think you were never coming my correspondence is finished and as you see my poem is addressed to england where I pray it may meet with a better fate than has hitherto attended my efforts you pray queried aliebus meaningly or you hope there is a difference between the two I suppose there is he returned notch notly and certainly to be correct I should have said I hope for I never pray what have you there this as aliebus set the casket he carried down on the table before him a reliquary and is it supposed to contain a fragment of the true cross alas I cannot believe in these fragments there are too many of them aliebus laughed gently you are right moreover not a single splinter of the true cross is in existence it was like other crosses then in general use thrown aside his lumber and had rotted away into the earth long before the empress helena started on her piously crazed wanderings no I have nothing of that sort in here and taking a key from a small chain that hung at his girdle he unlocked the casket this has been in the possession of the various members of our order for ages it is our chief treasure and his seldom I may say never shown to strangers but the mystic mandate you have received concerning the field of our death entitles you to see what I think must needs prove interesting to you under the circumstances and opening the box he lifted out a small square volume bound in massive silver and double class this he went on as the original text of a portion of the visions of estrus and dates from the 13th year after the downfall of Babylon's commercial prosperity all when uttered an exclamation of incredulous amazement not possible he cried then he added eagerly may I look at it silently Heliobus placed it in his outstretched hand as he undid the clasps of faint odor like that of long red rose leaves came like a breath on the air he opened it and saw that its pages consisted of 12 moderately thick sheets of ivory which were covered all over with curious small characters finally engraved there on by some evidently sharp and well pointed instrument these letters were utterly unknown to all when he had seen nothing like them in any of the ancient tongues and he examined them perplexedly what language is this he asked looking up it is not Hebrew nor yet Sanskrit nor does it resemble any of the discovered forms of hieroglyphic writing can you understand it perfectly returned Heliobus if I could not then much of the wisdom and science of past ages would be closed to my researches it is the language once commonly spoken by certain great nations which existed long before the foundations of Babylon were laid little by little it fell into disuse till it was only kept up among scholars and sages and in time became known only as the language of prophecy when Estrus wrote his visions they were originally divided into 204 books and as you will see by referring to what is now called the apocrypha footnote Vidae to Estrus 1444 through 48 he was commanded to publish them all openly to the worthy and unworthy all except the 70 last which were to be delivered solely to such as were wise among the people thus 134 were written in the vulgar tongue the remaining 70 in the language of prophecy for the use of deeply learned and scientific men alone the volume you hold is one of those 70 how did you come by it asked all when curiously turning the book over and over how did our order come by you mean said very simply childian fraternities existed in the time of Estrus and to the supreme chief of these estrus himself delivered it you look dubious but I assure you it is quite authentic we have its entire history up to date then are you all childians here not all but most of us three of the brethren are egyptians and two are natives of Damascus the rest are like myself descendants of a race supposed to have perished from off the face of the earth yet still powerful to a degree undreamed of by men of this puny age all in gave an upward glance at the speaker's regal form a glance of genuine admiration as far as that goes he said with a frank laugh I'm quite willing to believe you and your opinions are kings in disguise you all have that appearance but regarding this book and again he turned over the silver bound relic if it's authenticity can be proved as you say why the British Museum would give ah let me see it would give nothing declared aliyab quietly believe me nothing the British government would no doubt accept it as a gift just as it would with equal aliquity accept the veritable signature which we also possess in another retreat of ours on the isle of Alemnos but our treasures are neither forgiving nor selling and with respect to this original estrus it will certainly never pass out of our hands and what of the other missing 69 books asked Galwin they may possibly be somewhere in the world two of them I know were buried in the coffin of one of the last princes of Chaldea perhaps they will be unearthed someday there's also a rumor to the affected estrus engraved his last prophecy on a small oval tablet of pure jasper which he himself secreted no one knows where but to come to the point of immediate issue shall I find out and translate for you the allusions to the field of our dad contained in this present volume do said Alwin eagerly at once returning the book to aliyabas who seating himself at the table began looking over its ivory pages I'm all impatience even without the vision I have had I should still feel a desire to see this mysterious field for its own sake it must have some very strange associations to be worth specifying in such a particular manner aliyabas answered nothing he was entirely occupied in examining the small closely engraved characters in which the ancient record was written the crimson afterglow of the now descended sun flared through the window and sent a straight rosy ray on his bent head and white robes lighting to a more lustrous brilliancy the golden cross and jewel star on his breast and flashing round the silver clasps of the time honored relic before him presently he looked up here we have it and he placed his finger on one essential passage it reads as follows and the angel bade me enter a waste field and the field was barren and dry save of herbs and the name of the field was Ardaf and I wandered therein through the hours of the long night and the silver eyes of the field did open before me and I saw signs and wonders and I heard a voice crying aloud astras astras and I arose and stood on my feet and listened and refrained not till I heard the voice again said unto me, behold the field thou thoughtest barren how great a glory have the moon unveiled and I beheld and was so amazed for I was no longer myself but another and the sword of death was in that other's soul and yet that other was but myself in pain and I knew not those things that were once familiar and my heart failed within me for very fear and the voice quite a loud thing hide thee from the perils of the past and the perils of the future for a great and terrible thing is come upon thee against which thy strength is as a reed in the wind and thy thoughts as flying sand footnote C to astras 10 30 through 32 and lo I lay as one that had been dead and mine understanding was taken from me and he the angel took me by the right hand and comforted and set me upon my feet and said unto me what a let thee and why art thou so disquieted and why is that understanding troubled and the thoughts of thine heart and I said because thou hast forsaken me and yet I did according to thy words and I went into the field and lo I've seen and yet see that I'm not able to express here leobas paused having read the last sentence with peculiarly expressive emphasis that is all he said I see no more allusions to the name of our death the last three verses are the same as those in the accepted apocrypha end of chapter 6 chapter 7 of our death by Marie Carelli this LibriVox recording is in the public domain an undesired blessing all wind had listened with absorbed yet somewhat mystified air of attention the venerable estrus was certainly a poet in his own way he remarked lightly there is something very fascinating about the rhythm of his lines though I confess I don't grasp their meaning still I should like to have them all the same will you let me write them out just as you have translated them willingly ascending to this read the extract over again all wind taking down the words from his dictation perhaps he then added musingly perhaps it would be as well to copy a few passages from the apocrypha also where upon the bible was brought into requisition and the desired quotations made consisting of verses 24 to 26 in the footnote the reader is requested to refer to the parts of estrus here indicated 9th chapter of the second book of estrus and verses 25 to 26 in the 10th chapter of the same this done halibut closed and classed the original text of the prophet's work and returned it to its casket then addressing his guest in a kindly yet serious tone he said you were quite resolved to undertake this journey all when looked dreamily out of the window at the flame of the sunset hues reflected from the glowing sky on the white summit of the mountains yes I I think so the answer had a touch of indecision in it in that case resumed halibut I have prepared a letter of introduction for you to one of our order known as elzer of meliana he is a recluse and his hermitage is situated close to the Babylonian ruins you will find rest and shelter there after the fatigues of travel I've also traced out a map of the district and the exact position of the field you seek here it is and he laid a square piece of parchment on the table you can easily perceive at a glance how the land lies there are a few directions written at the back so I think you will have no difficulty this is the letter to elzer here he held out a folded paper will you take it now all when received it with a dubious smile and I the donor as if he rather suspected the sincerity of his intentions thanks very much he murmured you are exceedingly good to make it all such plain sailing for me and yet to be quite frank with you I can't help thinking I'm going on a fool's errand if that is your opinion why go at all queried Helibus with a slight disdain in his accents return to England instead forget the name of our death and forget also the one who bad you meet her there and who has waited for you these many thousand days all when started as if he had been stung ah he exclaimed if I could be certain of seeing her again if good God the idea seems absurd if that flower crowned wonder of my dream should actually fulfill her promise and keep her trist well demanded Helibus if so what then well then I will believe in anything he cried no miracle will seem miraculous no impossibility impossible Helibus sighed and regarded him thoughtfully you think you will believe he said somewhat sadly but doubts such as yours are not easily dispelled angels have air now descended to men men have neither received nor recognized them angels walk by our side through crowded cities and lonely woodlands they watch us when we sleep they hear us when we pray and yet the human eye sees nothing save the material objects within reach of its vision and is not very sure of those well it can no more discern the spiritual presences then it can without microscope discern the lovely living creatures contained in a drop of dew or array of sunshine our earthly sight is very limited it can neither perceive the infinitely little nor the infinitely great and it is possible now it is most probable that even as Peter of old denied his divine master so you have brought face to face with the angel of your last night's experience would deny and endeavor to disprove her identity never declared all went with a passionate gesture I should know her among a thousand for one instant Eliebus bent upon him a sudden searching almost pitiful glance then withdrawing his gaze he said gently well well let us hope for the best God's ways are inscrutable tell me that now after your strange so called vision you believe in God I did say so certainly and all went's face flushed a little but ah you hesitate there is a but in the case and Eliebus turned upon him with a grand reproach in his brilliant eyes already stepping backward on the road already rushing once again into the darkness he paused then laying one hand on the young man's shoulder continued in mild yet impressive accents my friend remember that the doubter and the poser of God is also the doubter and the poser of his own well-being let this unnatural and useless combat of human reason against divine instinct cease within you you who as a poet are bound to equalize your nature that it may the more harmoniously fulfill its high commission you know what one of your modern writers says of life that it is a dream in which we clutch at shadows as though they were substances and sleep deepest when fancying ourselves most awake footnote Carliles sardar risardus believe me you have slept long enough it is time you awoke to the full realization of your destinies all when heard in silence feeling inwardly rebuked and half ashamed the earnestly spoken words moved him more than he cared to show his head drooped he made no reply after all he thought he had really no more substantial foundation for his unbelief than others had for their faith with all his studies in the modern schools of science he was not a whip more advanced but a democratist of old democratist who based his system of morals on the severest mathematical lines taking as his starting point a vacuum and atoms and who after stretching his intellect on a constant rack of searching inquiry for years came at last to the unhappy conclusion that man is absolutely incapable of positive knowledge and that even if truth is in his possession there will never be certain of it was he theos fallen wiser than democratist or was the stately chaldean monk with the clear pathetic eyes and tender smile and the symbol of Christ on his breast wiser than both wiser in the wisdom of eternal things than any of the subtle minded ancient greek philosophers or modern imitators of their theories was there could there be something not yet all together understood them in the christian creed as this idea occurred to him he looked up and met his companions calm gaze fixed upon him with a watchful gentleness and patience are you reading my thoughts elibis he asked with a forced laugh I assure you they are not worth the trouble elibis smiled but made no answer just then one of the monks entered the room with a large lighted lamp which he sat on the table and the conversation interrupted was not again resumed the evening shadows were now closing in rapidly and already above the furthest visible snow peak the first risen star sparkled faintly in the darkening sky soon the vesper bell began ringing as it had rung on the previous night when all when newly arrived had sat alone in the refractory listlessly wondering what manner of men he had come amongst and what would be the final result into the wiles of caucuses his feelings had certainly undergone some change since then in as much as he was no longer disposed to ridicule or condemn religious sentiment though he was nearly as far from actually believing in religion itself as ever the attitude of his mind was still distinctly skeptical the immutable pride of what he considered his own firmly rooted convictions was only very slightly shaken and he now even viewed the prospect of his journey to the field of our death as a mere fantastic whim a caprice of his own fancy which he chose to gratify just for the sake of curiosity but notwithstanding the stubbornness of the materialistic principles with which he had it become imbued his higher instincts were unconsciously to himself beginning to be aroused his memory involuntarily back to the sweet fresh days of his earliest manhood before the poison of doubt had filtered through his soul his character naturally of the lofty imaginative and ardent cast reasserted its native force over the blighting blow of blank atheism which had for a time paralyzed its efforts and as he unwittingly yielded more and more to the mild persuasions of these genial influences more time and light bitterness of his humor gradually softened there was no trace in him now of the dark ironic and reckless scorn that before his recent visionary experience had distinguished his whole manner and bearing the smile came more readily to his lips and he seemed content for the present to display the sunny side of his nature a nature impassioned frank generous and noble in spite of the taint of the weaning ambitious egotism which somewhat warped its true quality and narrowed the range of its sympathies in his then frame of mind a curious vague sense of half pleasurable penitence was upon him delicate undefined almost devotional suggestions stirred his thoughts with the refreshment that a cool wind brings to parched and drooping flowers so that when he'll leave us taking up the silver asdruss reliquary and preparing to leave the apartment in response to the Vespers summons said gently we will attend our service Mr. Alwyn he ascended at once with a pleased alacrity somewhat astonished himself as he remembered how on the previous evening he had despised and inwardly resented all forms of religious observance however he did not stop to consider the reason of his altered mood he followed the monks into chapel the prayer of manly grace and quiet reverence that became him much better than the offensive and defensive demeanor he had air while chosen to assume in the same prayer hallowed place he listened to the impressive ceremonial from beginning to end without the least fatigue or impatience and though when the brother knelt he could not humble himself so far as to kneel also he still made a slight concession to appearances by sitting down and keeping his head in a bent posture out of respect for the good intentions of these worthy men as he told himself to silence the inner conflict of his own opposing and contradictory sensations the service concluded he waited as before to see the monks pass out and was smitten with a sudden surprise compunction and regret when Halibus who walked last as usual paused where he stood and confronted him saying I will bid you farewell here my friend I have many things to do this evening and it is best I should see you know more before your departure why? asked Alwyn astonished I had hoped for another conversation with you to what purpose inquired Halibus mildly that I should assert and you deny facts that got himself reproved in his own way and at his own appointed time nay we should do no good by further arguments but stammered Alwyn hastily flushing hotly as he spoke you give me no chance to thank you to express my gratitude gratitude questioned Halibus almost mournfully with a tinge of reproach in his soft mellow voice are you grateful for being as you think deluded by a trance cheated as it were into a sort of semi-belief in that life to come by means of mesmerism your first request to me I know was that you might be deceived or influenced into a state of imaginary happiness and now you fancy your last night's experience was merely the result of that preeminently foolish desire you are wrong and as matters stand no thanks are needed if I had indeed mesmerized or hypnotized you I might perhaps have deserved some reward for the exertion of my purely professional skill but as I have told you already I've done absolutely nothing as it has always been in your own hands you sought me of your own accord you used me as an instrument an unwilling instrument remember whereby to break open the prison doors of your chafed and fretting spirit and the end of it all is that you depart from hence tomorrow of your own free will and choice to fulfill the appointed twist made with you as you believe by a phantom in a vision brief here he spoke more slowly and with marked emphasis you go to the field of our death to solve a puzzling problem namely as to whether what we call life is not a dream and whether a dream may not per chance be proved reality in this enterprise of yours I have no share nor will I say more than this God speed you on your errand he held out his hand all when looking earnestly meanwhile at the fine intellectual face the clear pathetic eyes the firm yet sensitive mouth on which there just then rested a serious yet kindly smile what a strange man you are, Aliebus he said impulsively I wish I knew more about you Aliebus gave him a friendly glance wished rather that you knew more about yourself he answered simply you shall find none deeper greater or more difficult of comprehension Alwin still held his hand reluctant to let it go finally releasing it with a slight sigh he said well at any rate though we part now it will not be for long we must meet again why if we must we shall rejoin Aliebus cheerily must cannot be prevented in the meantime farewell farewell Aliebus was spoken their eyes met instinctively and on a sudden impulse Alwin bowed his head in the lowest and most reverential salutation he had perhaps ever made to any creature of mortal mold and as he did so Aliebus paused in the act of turning away do you care for a blessing gentle skeptic he asked in a soft tone that thrilled tenderly through the silence of a dimly lit chapel then receiving no reply and gently on the young man's dark clustering curls and with the other slowly traced the sign of the cross upon the smooth broad fairness of his forehead take it my son the only blessing I can give thee the blessing of the cross of Christ which in spite of thy desertion claims thee redeems thee and will yet possess thee for its own and before Alwin could recover from his astonishment sufficiently to interrupt and repudiate this to him undesired form of benediction Aliebus had gone and he was left alone lifting his head he stared out into the further quarter down which he just perceived a distant glimmer of banishing white robes and for a moment he was filled with speechless indignation it seemed to him that the sign thus traced on his brow must be actually visible like a red brand burnt into his flesh and all his old and violent prejudices against humanity rushed back upon him with the resentful speed of once baffled foes returning anew to storm a citadel almost as rapidly however his anger cooled he remembered that in his vision of the previous night the light that had guided him through the long shadowy vista had always preceded him in the form of a cross and in a soft moot he glanced at the ruby star shining steadily above the otherwise darkened altar involuntarily the words we have seen his star in the east and have come to worship him occurred to his memory but he dismissed them as instantly as they suggested themselves and finding his own thoughts growing perplexing and troublesome he hastily left the chapel joining some of the monks who were gathered in a picturesque group round the fire in the factory he sat chatting with them for about half an hour or so hoping to elicit them in the course of conversation some particulars concerning the daily life character and professing aims of their superior but in this attempt he failed they spoke of hallubis as believing men may speak of saints with hushed reverence and admiring tenderness but on any point connected with his faith or the spiritual nature of his theories they held their peace evidently deeming the subject to sacred for discussion baffled in all his inquiries all when at last said good night and retired to rest in a small sleeping apartment prepared for his accommodation where he enjoyed a sound refreshing and dreamless slumber the next morning he was up at daybreak and long before the sun had risen above the highest peak of Caucasus he had departed from the Lars monastery leaving a handsome donation in the poor box toward the various charitable works in which the brethren were engaged such as the rescue of travelers lost in the snow or the burial of the many victims murdered on or near the pass of Dario by the bands of fierce mountain robbers and assassins that at certain seasons infest that solitary region making the best of his way to the fortress of Passenauer he there joined a party of adventurous Russian climbers who had just successfully accomplished the ascent of Mount Cosbeck and in their company proceeded through the rugged Aragua valley to Tiflis which he reached that same evening from this dark and dismal looking town shattered in all size by barren and cavernous hills he dispatched the manuscript of his mysteriously composed poem together with the letter concerning it to his friend Billiers in England and then yielding to a burning sense of impatience within himself impatience that would broke no delay he set out resolutely and at once on his long pilgrimage to the land of sand and ruin and gold the land of horrific prophecy and stern fulfillment the land of mighty and mournful memories where the slow river Euphrates clasps in its dusky yellow ring the ashes of great kingdoms fallen to rise no more end of chapter 7 chapter 8 of our death by Marie Corelli this LibriVox recording is in the public domain chapter 8 by the waters of Babylon it was no light or easy journey he had thus rashly undertaken on the faith of a dream for dream he still believed it to be many weary days and nights were consumed in the comfortless tedium of travel and though he constantly told himself what unheard of father it was to pursue an elusive come era of his own imagination a mere phantasm which had somehow or other taken possession of his brain at a time when that brain must have been acted upon so he continued to think by strong mesmeric or magnetic influence he went on his way all the same with a sort of dog obstinacy which no fatigue could daunt or lessen he never lay down to rest without the faint hope of seeing once again if only asleep the radiant being whose haunting words had sent him on this quest of our death but herein his expectations were not realized no more flower crowned angels floated before him no sweet whisper of love encouragement or promise came mysteriously on his ears in the midnight silences his slumbers were always profound and placid as those of a child and utterly dreamless one consolation he had however he could write not a day passed without his finding some new inspiration some fresh quaint and lovely thought flowed of itself into most perfect and rhythmical utterance glorious lines of verse glowing with fervor and beauty seemed to fall from his pencil without any effort on his part and if he had had reason and former times to doubt the strength of his poetical faculty it was now very certain he could do so no longer his mind was as a fine heart newly strung attuned and quivering with the consciousness of the music pent up within it and as he remembered the masterpiece of poetry he had written in his seeming trance the manuscript of which would soon be in the hands of the London publishers his heart swelled without growing and irrepressible sense of pride for he knew and felt with an undefinable yet positive certainty that however much the public or the critics might gainsay him his fame as a poet of the very highest order would ere long be asserted and assured a deep tranquility was in his soul a tranquility that seemed to increase the further he went on with the restless weariness that had once possessed him as past and a vaguely sweet content pervaded his being like the odor of early roses pervading warm air he felt he hoped he loved and yet his feelings hopes and longings turned to something altogether undeclared and indefinite as softly dim and distant as the first faint white cloud signal the moon in heaven went on the point of rising she makes her queenly purpose known to her waiting star attendants practically considered his journey was tedious and for the most part dull and uninteresting in the Satan like days of going to and fro in the earth and walking up and down in it traveling has lost much of its old romantic charm the idea of traversing long distances no more fills the expectant adventurer with a fragile sense of uncertainty and mystery he knows exactly what to anticipate it is all laid out for him plainly on the level lines of the commonplace and nothing is left to his imagination the continent of Europe has been ransacked from end to end by tourists we have turned it into a sort of exhausted pleasure garden where the various entertainments are too familiarly known to arouse any fresh curiosity the east is nearly in the same condition with the hordes of British and American site sewers scamper over the empire strewn soil of Persia and Syria with the unconcerned indifference of beings to whom not only a portion of the world's territory but the whole world itself belongs and soon there will not be an inch of ground left on the narrow extent of our poor planet that has not been driven by the hasty scrambling irreverent footsteps of someone or other of the ever prolific all spreading English speaking race on his way all in that many have this countrymen travelers who like himself had visited the caucuses and Armenia and were now en route some for Damascus some for Jerusalem and the holy land others again for Cairo and Alexandria to depart from thence homeward by the usual Mediterranean line but among these birds of passage acquaintances he chanced upon none who were going to the ruins of Babylon he was glad of this for the future of his enterprise rented a companion altogether undesirable and though on one occasion he encountered a gentleman novelist with a notebook who was exceedingly anxious to fraternize with him and discover whether he was bound he succeeded in shaking off this would be incubus at Mosul by taking him to a wonderful old library in that city where there were a number of French translations of Turkish and Syriac romances here the gentleman novelist straight way ascended to the seventh heaven of plagiarism and began to copy energetically whole scenes and descriptive passages from dead and gone authors unknown to English critics for the purpose of inserting them hereafter into his own original work of fiction and in this congenial occupation he fought all about the dark handsome man with the wide brows of Mark Anthony and the lips of a Cotellus as he had already described Alwyn Mosul's work before mentioned while in Mosul Alwyn himself picked up a curiosity in the way of literature a small quaint volume entitled the final philosophy about Ghazali the Arabian he was printed into languages the original Arabic on one page and facing it the translation of very old French the author born 80 1058 described himself as a poor students driving to discern the truth of things his work was a serious incisive patiently exhaustive inquiry into the workings of nature the capabilities of human intelligence and the deceptive results of human reason reading it Alwyn was astonished to find that nearly all the ethical propositions offered for the world's consideration today by the most learned and cultured minds had been already advanced and thoroughly discussed by this same Al Ghazali one passage in particular rested his attention as being singularly applicable to his own immediate condition that ran as follows I began to examine the objects of sensation and speculation to see if they could possibly admit the doubt then doubts crowded upon me in such numbers that my insertitude became complete whence results the confidence I have in sensible things the strongest of all our senses is sight yet if we look at the stars they seem to be as small as money pieces medical proofs convince us that they are larger than the earth these and other things are judged by the senses but rejected by reason as false I abandoned the senses therefore having seen my confidence in their absolute truth shaken perhaps that I there is no assurance but in the notions of reason that is to say first principles as that 10 is more than 3 upon this the senses reply what insurance have you that your confidence in reason is not of the same nature as your confidence in us when you relied on us reason stepped in and gave us the lie had not reason been there you would have continued to rely on us well may there not exist some other judge superior to reason who if he appeared would refute the judgments of reason in the same way that reason refuted us the non appearance of such a judge is no proof of his nonexistence I strove to answer this objection and my difficulties increase when I came to reflect on sleep I said to myself during sleep you give to visions a reality and consistent and on a waking you are made aware that they were nothing but visions what assurance have you that all you feel and know does actually exist it is all true as respects your condition at the moment but it is nevertheless possible that another condition should present itself which should be to your awakened state that which your awakened state is now to your sleep so that as respects this higher condition your waking is but sleep over and over again Alvin read these words and pondered on the deep and difficult problems they suggested and he was touched to an odd sense of shame compunction when at the close of the book he came upon Al Ghazali's confession of utter vanquishment and humility thus simply recorded I examined my actions and found the best work those relating to instruction and education and even there I saw myself given up to unimportant sciences all useless in another world reflecting on the aim of my teaching I found it was not pure in the side of the Lord and that all my efforts were directed toward the acquisition of glory to myself having therefore distributed my wealth I left Baghdad and retired into Syria where I remained in solitary struggle with my soul combating my passions and exercising myself in the purification of my heart and in preparation for the other world this ancient philosophical treatise together with the mystical passage from the original text of Esdras and the selected verses from the Apocrypha formed all Alvin's stock of reading for the rest of his journey the rhapsodical lines of the prophet he knew by heart as one knows a favorite poem and he often caught himself unconsciously repeating the strange words in the field thou thoughtest barren how great a glory hath the moon unveiled and I beheld and was so amazed for I was no longer myself but another and the sword of death was in that other's soul and yet that other was but myself in pain and I knew not the things that were once familiar and my heart filled within me for very fear what did they mean he wondered or had they any meaning at all beyond the faint far-off suggestions a thought that may occasionally and with difficulty be discerned through obscure and reckless ecstasies of language which full of sound and fury signify nothing was there could there be anything mysterious or sacred in this wist field anciently known as Ardath these questions flitted hazely from time to time through his brain but he made no attempt to answer them either by refutation or reason indeed sober matter of fact reason he was well aware played no part in his present undertaking it was late in the afternoon of a salt-free part-time date when he at last arrived at Hilla this dull little town built at the beginning of the 12th century out of the then plentifully scattered fragments of Babylon has nothing to offer to the modern traveler say various annoyances and then shape of excessive heat does the rather fine-blown sand dirt flies bad food in general discomfort and finding the aspect of the place not only un-tempting but positively depressing Alwyn left his surplus luggage at a small and unpretentious hostelry kept by a Frenchman who catered especially for archaeological tourists and explorers and after an hour's rest set out alone and on foot for the eastern quarter of the ruins namely those which are considered by investigators to begin about two miles above Hilla a little beyond them close to the river bank according to the deductions he had received throughout the religious recluse for whom he brought the letter of introduction from Eliebus a letter bearing on its cover a superscription in Latin translated Rambas to the venerable and much esteemed the Elzeer of Meliana at the Hermitage near Hilla in faith peace and goodwill, greeting anxious to reach Elzeer's abode before nightfall he walked on as briskly as the heat and heaviness of the sandy soil would allow keeping to the indistinctly traced path that crossed and recrossed at intervals the various ridges of earth strewn with pulverized fragments of brick by Tumen and Pottery which are now the sole remains of stately buildings once famous in Babylon. A low red sun was sinking slowly on the edge of the horizon when pausing to look about him he perceived in the near distance the dark outline of the great mound known as Burr's Nimrud and realized with a sort of shock that he was actually surrounded on all sides by the crumbled and almost indistinguishable ruins of the formerly superb all dominant Assyrian city that had been as a golden cup in the Lord's hand and was now no more in very truth than a broken and an empty vessel. For the words and Babylon shall become heaps have certainly been verified with startling exactitude heaps indeed it has become nothing but heaps heaps of dull earth with here and there a few faded green tufts of wild tamarisk which while faintly relieving the blankness of the ground at the same time intensify its monotonous dreaminess. All in beholding the mournful desolation of the scene felt a strong sense of disappointment. He'd expected something different his imagination had pictured these historical ruins as being of larger extent a more imposing character. His eyes rested rather rarely on the slow dull gleam of the Euphrates as it wound past the deserted spaces where the mighty city the astonishment of nations had once stood and poet though he was to the very core of his nature he could see nothing poetical in these spectral mounts and stone heaps saving the significant remembrance they offered of the old scriptural prophecy Babylon is fallen is fallen Her princes her wise men her captains her rulers and her mighty men shall sleep her perpetual sleep and not wake save the king who is the lord of hosts and truly it seemed as if the curse which had lighted the city's bygones splendor had doomed even its ruins to appear contemptible. Just then the glow of the disappearing sun touched the upper edge of Burse Nimrud giving it for one instant a weird effect as though the ghost of some Babylonian watchmen were waving a lit torch from its summit but the sun faded in a dead gray twilight settled solemnly down over the melancholy landscape with a sudden feeling of dejection and lassitude upon him all when heaving a deep sigh went onward and soon perceived lying a little to the north of the river a small roughly erected tenement with a wooden cross on its roof rightly concluding that this must be Elzer Meliana's hermitage he quickly made his way with it and knocked at the door a white haired picturesco man who received him with a mute sign of welcome and with the same time laid one hand lightly but expressively on his own lips to signify that he was dumb. This was Elzer himself he was attired in the same sort of flowing garb as that worn by the monks of Dariel and with his tall spare figure long silvery beard and deep sunken yet still bright dark eyes he might have served as a perfect model for one of the inspired prophets by God ancient days though nature had deprived him of speech as serene countenance spoke eloquently in his favor gets mild benevolent expression betokening that inward peace of the heart which so often renders old age more beautiful than youth he perused with careful slowness the letter all when presented to him and then inclining his head gravely he made a courteous and comprehensive gesture to intimate that himself and all that his house contained were at the newcomer he proceeded to testify the sincerity of this assurance at once by setting a plentiful supply of food and wine before his guest waiting upon him more over while he ate and drank with a respectful humility which somewhat embarrassed all when we wish to spare him the trouble of such attendance and told him so many times with much earnestness but all to no purpose Elzer only smiled gently and continued to perform the duties of hospitality in his own way evidently no use interfering with him later on he showed his visitor a small cell-like apartment containing a neat bed together with a table of chair and a large crucifix which later object was suspended against the wall and indicating by eloquent signs that here the various traveler might find good repose he made a low salutation and departed all together for the night what a still place the hermitage was thought all when as soon as Elzer's retreating steps had away into silence there was not a sound to be heard anywhere not even the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the wind and what a haunting grave wistfully tender expression filled the face of that sculpture image on the cross which in intimate companionship with himself seemed to possess the little room he could not bear the down drooping appealing penetrating look in those heavenly kind yet piteous eyes turning abruptly away he opened the narrow window and folding his arms on the sill surveyed for him the full moon was rising slowly round and large she hung like a yellow shield on the dark dense wall of the sky the ruins of Babylon were plainly visible the river shone like a golden ribbon the outline of birds new mood was faintly rimmed with light and had little streaks of amber ratings wandering softly up and down each shadowy slopes and I went into the field called our death and there I sat among the flowers used all in half allowed his dreamy gaze fixed on a gradually brightening heavens why not go there at once now into chapter 8 chapter 9 of our death by Marie Carelli this LibriVox recording is in the public domain the field of flowers this idea had no sooner entered his mind than he prepared to act upon it though only a short while previously feeling thoroughly overcome by fatigue he had resolved to wait till next day before setting out for the chief goal of his long pilgrimage but now strangely enough all sense of weariness had suddenly left him a keen impatience burned in his veins and a compelling influence stronger than himself seemed to urge him on to the instant fulfillment of his purpose the more he thought about it the more restless he became and the more eagerly desirous to prove with the least possible delay the truth or the falsity of his mystic vision at the now by the light of the small lamp left on the table he consulted his map the map had traced and also the written directions that accompanied it though these he had read so often over and over again that they knew them by heart they were simply and concisely worded thus on the east bank of the Euphrates nearly opposite the Hermitage there is the sunken fragment of a bronze gate formally belonging to the palace of the Babylonian kings three miles and a half to the south west of this fragment and in a direct line with it straight across country will be found a fallen pillar of red granite half buried in the earth the square tract of land extending beyond this broken column is the field known to the prophet Estrus as the field of our death he was on the east bank of the Euphrates already and a walk of three miles and a half could surely be accomplished in an hour or very little over that time hesitating no longer he made his way out of the house deciding that if he met El-Zir he would say he was going for a moonlight stroll before retiring to rest that venerable recluse however was nowhere to be seen and as the door of the hermitage was only fastened with a light latch he had no difficulty in effecting a noiseless exit once in the open air he stopped startled by the sound of full fresh youthful voices singing in clear and harmonious unison he re-a-a-le-i-son Christe-a-le-i-son Kyrie-a-le-i-son he listened looking everywhere about him in utter amazement there was no habitation in sight save El-Zir's and the chorus certainly did not proceed from thence but rather seemed to rise upward through the earth floating in released sweet echoes to and fro upon the hushed air Kyrie-a-le-i-son Christe-a-le-i-son how it swayed about him like a close chime of bells he stood motionless perplexed and wondering was there a subterranean grotto near at hand where devotional chants were sung or, and a slight drummer ran through him at the thought was there something supernatural in the music notwithstanding its human seeming speech and sound just then it ceased always again silent as before and angry with himself for his own fancies he said about the task of discovering the sunken fragment Eliebus had mentioned very soon he found it driven deep into the soil and so blackened and defaced by time that it was impossible to trace any of the elaborate carvings that must have once adorned it in fact it would not have been recognizable as a portion of a gate at all had it not still possessed an enormous hinge which partly clung to it by means of one huge thickly rusted nail close beside it grew a tree of weird and melancholy appearance its trunk was split asunder and one half of it was withered the other half leaning mournfully on one side bent down its branches to the ground trailing a wealth of long glossy green leaves in the dust of the ruined city this was the famous tree called by natives Othell of which old legends say that it used to be a favorite evergreen much cultivated and prized by the Babylonian nobility who loving its pleasant shade spared no pains to make it grow in their hanging gardens and spacious courts though its nature was altogether foreign to the soil and now with none to tend it or care whether it flourishes or decays it faithfully it brings to the deserted spot where it was once so tenderly fostered showing its sympathy with the surrounding desolation by growing always in split halves one withered and one green a broken hearted creature yet loyal to the memory of past love and joy all when stood under its dark bows knowing nothing of its name or history every now and then a wailing whisper seemed to shudder through it though there was no wind and he heard the eerie lamenting sigh with an involuntary sense of awe the whole scene was far more impressive by night than by day the great earth mounds of Babylon looked like giant graves enclosing a glittering ring of winding waters again he examined the embedded fragment of the ancient gate and then feeling quite certain of his starting point he set his face steadily toward the southwest there the landscape before him lay flat and bare in the beamy luster of the moon the soil was sandy and heavy to the tread moreover it was an excessively hot night too hot to walk fast he glanced at his watch it was a few minutes past ten o'clock keeping up the moderate pace the heat enforced it was possible he might reach the mysterious field about half past eleven perhaps earlier and now his nerves began to quiver with strong excitement had he yielded to the promptings of his own feverish impatience he would most probably have run all the way in spite of the saltiness of the air but he restrained this impulse and walked leisurely on purpose reproaching himself as he went along for the utter absurdity of his expectations was ever mad man more mad than I he murmured with some self contempt what logical human being in his right mind would be guilty of such egregious folly but am I logical certainly not am I in my right mind I think I am yet I may be wrong the question remains what is logic and what is being in one's right mind no one can absolutely decide let me see if I can review calmly my ridiculous position it comes to this I insist on being mesmerized I have a dream and I see a woman in the dream here he suddenly corrected himself a woman did I say no she was something far more than that a lovely phantom a dazzling creature of my own imagination an exquisite ideal whom I will one day immortalize yes immortalize in song he raised his eyes as he spoke to the dusky firmament thickly studded with stars and just then caught sight of a fleecy silver rim cloud passing swiftly beneath the main and floating downwards toward the earth it was shaped like a white wing bird and was here and there tenderly streaked with pink as though it had just traveled from some distant land the sun was rising it was the only cloud in the sky and it had a peculiar almost phenomenal effect by reason of its rapid motion there being not the faintest breeze stirring all when watched it gliding down the heavens till it had entirely disappeared and then began his meditations anew anyone even without magnetic influence being brought to bear upon him might have visions such as mine eater for instance whose life is one long confused vista of visions suppose he were to accept all the wild suggestions offered to his drug brain and persist in following them out to some sort of definite conclusion the only place for that man would be a lunatic asylum even the most ordinary persons whose minds are never excited in any abnormal way are subject to very curious and inexplicable dreams but for all that they are not such fools as to believe in them true there is my poem I don't know how I wrote it yet written it is and complete from beginning to end an actual tangible result of my vision and strange enough in its way to say the least of it but what is stranger still is that I love the radiant phantom that I saw yes actually love her with a love no mere woman were she fair as Troy's Helen her rouse in me of course in spite of the contrary assertions made remarkably interesting Chaldean monk Halibus I feel I am the victim of a brain delusion therefore it is just as well I should see this field of our death and satisfy myself that nothing comes of it in which case I shall be cured of my craze he walked on for some time and presently stopped a moment in his map by the light of the moon as he did so he became aware of the extraordinary almost terrible stillness surrounding him he had thought the hermitage silent as a closed tomb but it was nothing to the silence here he felt it enclosing him like a thick wall on all sides he heard the regular pulsations of his own heart even the rushing of his own blood but no other sound was audible earth and the air seemed breathless as though with some pent up mysterious excitement the stars were like so many large living eyes eagerly gazing down on the solitary human being who thus wandered at night in the land of the prophets of old the moon itself appeared to stare at him in open wonderment he grew uncomfortably conscious of this speechless watchfulness of nature he strained his ears to listen as it were to the deepening dumbness of all existing things and to conquer the strange sensations that were overcoming him he proceeded at a more rapid pace but in two or three minutes came again to an abrupt halt for there in front of him right across his path lay the fallen pillar which according to Haleibus marked the boundary to the field he sought another glance at his map decided the position he'd reached his journey's end at last what was the time he looked it was just twenty minutes past eleven a curious and natural calmness suddenly possessed him he surveyed with a quiet almost cold unconcern the prospect before him a wide level square of land covered with tufts of coarse grass and clumps of wild tamarisk nothing more this was the field of our dad this bear unlovely wilderness without so much as a tree to grace its outline from where he stood he could view its whole extent and as he beheld its complete desolation he smiled a faint half bitter smile he thought of the words in the ancient book of asdriss and the angel bade me enter a waste field and the field was baren and dry save of herbs and the name of the field was our dad and I wandered therein through the hours of the long night and the silver eyes of the field did open before me and there in I saw signs and wonders yes the field is baren and dry enough in all conscience emermored listlessly but as for the silver eyes and the signs and wonders they must have existed only in the venerable prophet's imagination just as my flower crowned angel maiden exists in mine well now the owes all when he continued apostrophizing himself aloud are you contented are you quite convinced of your folly and do you acknowledge that a fair dream is as much of a lie and a cheat as all the other fair seeming things that puzzle and torture poor human nature return to your former condition of reasoning and reasonable skepticism I even atheism if you will for the materialists are right you cannot prove a god or the possibility of any purely spiritual life while thus hanker after a phantom loveliness fame fame when fame that is enough for you in this world and as for a next world who believes in it and who believing cares soliloquizing in this fashion he set his foot on our death itself determining to walk across and around it from end to end the grass was long and dry yet it made no rustle beneath his dread he shod with the magic shoes of silence he walked on till he reached about the middle of the field where perceiving a broad flat stone near him he sat down to rest there was a light mist rising a thin moonlit colored vapor that crept slowly upward from the ground and remained hovering like a wide suddenly spun gossamer web some two or three inches above it thus giving a cool luminous water effect to the hot and arid soil according to the apocrypha asdriss sat among the flowers he idly mused well perhaps there were flowers in those days but it is very evident there are none now a more dreary utterly desolate place than this famous our death I have never seen at that moment a subtle fragrance scented the still air a fragrance deliciously sweet as the violets mingled with myrtle he inhaled the delicate odor surprised and confounded flowers after all he exclaimed or maybe some aromatic herb and he bent down to examine the turf at his feet to his amazement he perceived a thick cluster of white blossoms star shaped and glossy leaved with deep golden centers where in bright drops of dew sparkled like brilliance and from whence puffs of perfume rose like incense swung at unseen altars he looked at them in doubt that was almost dread were they real were these the silver eyes in which asdriss has seen signs and wonders or was he hopelessly brain sick with delusions and dreaming again he touched them hesitatingly they were actual living things with creamy petals soft as velvet he was about to gather one of them when all at once his attention was caught and riveted by something like a faint shadow gliding across the plane as mother cry escaped his lips he sprang erect and gazed eagerly forward half in hope half in fear what slight figure was that pacing slowly serenely and all alone in the moonlight without another instance pause he rushed impetuously toward it heedless he went he trod on thousands of those strange starry blossoms which now was sudden growth covered and whitened every inch of the ground thus marvelously fulfilling the words spoken of old behold the field thou thoughtest bearing how great a glory hath the moon unveiled end of chapter 9