there limp and inert with tightly shut eyes. Convulsed with fear he bent
towards it, pressing his lips upon the silent mouth, covering the waxen
face with eager caresses, chafing the frozen hands, the tiny bare feet,
calling to it words of love and endearment, begging it to look up and
speak.
But all in vain; no responsive smile came to the blanched lips, and when
he let her slip from his arms the wee body fell back, a poor little
heap, upon the ground.
Then Eric covered his face with his hands and sobbed as if his heart
would break.
Thus did he remain completely overcome, in frightful distress. Oh,
why--oh, why had he been unable to save her treasured life? Why, why was
he alive while she was dead? Why had all his efforts been in vain? Why
had he reached his goal only to be crushed by this bitter grief? O God!
O God! What was the use of such a thing?
But what was that? Over his head the sound of wings.... He let his hands
fall from his tear-stained face, and looking up into the blue, blue sky
above, overcome with wonder he discerned two shining angels who held
within their arms the form of the poor little maid....
They mounted always farther into space, and as they did so he saw the
humble companion of his wanderings all bright and transfigured, like
unto the angels themselves.
Before they disappeared into that vast splendour of blue, she bent
toward him a face full of love and gratitude, bearing an expression of
heavenly peace which descended upon his soul, revealing unto him that
henceforward he need grieve for her no more.
XVIII
But the joy that is one with sorrow
Treads an immortal way.
FIONA MACLEOD.
Eric remained for a long while, his face turned to the sky, his eyes
fixed upon the spot where the bright vision had melted into the
infinite.
Indeed it had been a consoling sight to see the lowly little waif
changed into a shining light, her tattered rags turned into a robe as
immaculate as those of the ethereal beings who had borne her away into
the sky.
God had been merciful; it was better thus; all her fatigue and weariness
were at an end, all the scars and wounds had been wiped from her
starving body, and when she had looked down upon him it had been with a
light of ineffable happiness within her eyes.
But now Eric felt how completely exhausted he was; so throwing himself
upon the naked rock, he lay face downwards like one who is dead.
It was many hours before he had strength to raise his head; and when he
did so, the glare of noon beat down upon him with life-giving force.
He rose to his feet looking about him, then stood in rapture before what
he saw.
The peak upon which he had climbed was far above everything else,
overlooking the entire universe; a frowning solitary mass. On three
sides of him were mountains and steep, precipitous passes, dark and
forbidding, a whole world of mystery and desolation, where human foot
would not dare to penetrate; sombre secrets seemed hidden in every
crevice.
Over all brooded an implacable silence; light and shade played on the
face of the mountains in startling contrast, almost white in places, in
others deep indigo; and far away on the horizon the vast immensities
dwindled into a mist of blue, like smoke rising out of some giant's
caldron.
But at his feet lay what might have been a vision of the promised land,
a wondrous revelation of light and beauty--as far as the eye could
reach, a blooming plain all shimmering in the radiant sun, out of which
a glorious expectation seemed to rise and remain suspended, awaiting
some great moment of fulfilment. A heavy ripeness saturated with the
glow of harvest was spread over the earth; long roads like silver
ribbons wound through this vast richness, and they were like
never-ending illusions, leading always farther into a blessed region of
dreams.
Broad rivers shone like molten metal as they slowly flowed between
fruitful banks, in places bordered by thick forests that stood out in
delicate masses against all that treasure of sunshine. A happy country
indeed, if only it did not melt away when the foot reached its border.
Something near by now attracted his attention. Beneath where he stood
there was a flitting to and fro, a movement in the air, something
impalpable and that yet called him back to his more immediate
surroundings.
Not very far below he perceived a small dark lake like an enormous eye,
sombre and watchful, encased between granite boulders. Around this deep
bottomless pool stood all his ghostly followers, watching with absorbed
interest the water at their feet.
There was something mysterious and unusual about that green-black
surface.
It was dead still; and then, quite unexpectedly, anxious convulsions
would shake its depth, and out of its quiet face bubbles would suddenly
rise, spreading over the whole till the entire water was covered with
enormous dewdrops, and each single drop reflected within its circle the
blue of the sky.
Then in places the transparent globes would detach themselves and rise
into the air like giant soap-bubbles, floating away into space till they
disappeared from sight; and all these bubbles were of such exquisite
beauty, and so varied in hue, that Eric imagined he saw colours within
them that his eye had never before looked upon.
What was the meaning of it all? What were his silent pursuers doing
around that bewitched mountain lake? What were they awaiting? Why did a
feeling of silent expectancy rise to where he stood?
Very carefully Eric climbed down towards that curious gathering.
Noiselessly he approached, afraid of frightening them away.
As he did so, the shadowy figures one and all turned his way and fell
down on their faces in postures of sudden adoration; from over their
heads a whispering wind waved towards him, a wind that was full of sighs
and hushed voices, like a far-off crowd always crying the same thing.
Eric started back abashed, quite at a loss to know what he should do;
then to his utmost astonishment he saw how the foremost spirit arose,
and, giving him a last look of gratitude, without the slightest warning
quietly walked into that uncanny water and disappeared beneath the
surface! Following his example all the others did the same! It was but a
flash!
Eric threw himself with an exclamation towards the edge, but it was too
late! Every trace of them was gone, nothing remained but large circles
on the face of the water. Eric looked down into the darkness, and there
he saw something rising slowly to the top....
It was the miraculous bubbles. One by one they appeared slowly like some
fairy procession; and when they reached the light of day they grew in
size, hovered a moment over the dark element, then rose light and joyful
into the sky, and as they mounted their colours changed in infinite
variety, transparent globes of exquisite beauty.
[Illustration: _It was the miraculous bubbles._]
Close over the water they were green and blue; in rising their hues
turned into violet and purple, that gently graduated through every tone
of gold and yellow till they were one blaze of flame that quite
imperceptibly faded away into the blue of the sky, where they hung
suspended, hardly discernible, till at last they were one with the
infinite; and that was so high, so high overhead, that it might have
been at the very gates of heaven!
Then Eric understood.... These were the lost souls he had freed; all had
found rest at last; all had been able to detach themselves from this
weary world always higher into the sky.
Had it really been given to him to be their salvation? Had they found
eternal peace and joy because he had not fallen on the way? Then indeed
no sacrifice had been too great, no trial, no fatigue too vast. And in
sign of gratitude they had displayed before his wondering eye the most
divine colours he had ever seen, filling his artist soul with the deep
joy of beauty for which he never could be thankful enough.
He turned again to look at the pool, and as he did so there on the
opposite bank he saw an apparition which made his heart stand still.
A very old man, tall and gaunt, wrapped in grey flowing folds, a thin
cloak suspended from his shoulders, a weather-beaten hat shading his
face, his long beard falling far down on his breast.
In his hands he clasped a thick stick on which he leaned. With a cry of
joy Eric stretched out his hands towards that shadowy figure, for was it
not his old and venerated friend the hermit!
The grey vision turned, and with hollow eyes looked at him long and
earnestly, with such a wonderful expression of loving affection that it
made tears gather in the boy's eyes.
But his beloved old master was also transparent and ghostly like the
lost souls that had at last found peace.
Was this his spirit that had left his earthly body? Would God in His
mercy grant the beautiful miracle that through his courage and
persistence he should also have brought rest and redemption to this
weary sinner whose precious words he could never forget?
His whole soul yearned to hear the dear tired voice once more, to drink
anew from that source of wisdom which had so refreshed his spirit. Yet
he had the cruel apprehension that this joy could be his no more.
"O Father, I want to hear thee speak," he cried, but no answer came from
the other side of the dark water.
The old man only continued to stare.
Then an awful despair gripped at Eric's heart, for he felt as if he had
lost his dearest treasure.
Why was life so cruelly full of lights and shades? Why was the full cup
always dashed from the lips?
"Father, father," he cried, "I do so long for the sound of thy voice;
speak, oh, speak, I beseech thee," but there was no response; only
silence deep and absolute, and a second later a faint echo of his own
words whispering round the granite boulders.
Then something very wonderful was revealed to his sight; there beside
the old man stood a shining translucid woman, a woman whose face he
could but faintly discern.
Her head was bent back and her two uplifted arms shone like rays of
light, pointing to the sky.
Her long robe flowed down, a trailing mist, into the quiet water, where
it hung like a cloud. And this filmy vapour wrapped itself round the
feet of the man, and as it slowly mounted towards his heart a marvellous
change came over the aged hermit; his astounded pupil saw how very
gradually all the years rolled from him, how his bent figure became
upright, and for a short moment the vision of a manly face full of
strength and beauty flashed before his eyes, and then ... everything was
gone! A gust of wind swept the whole miracle into the dark lake, where a
cloud of smoke alone remained.
The smoke hovered for a second, blue grey over the face of the deep; and
then out of the very centre shot a quivering flame, intense and
dazzling, that mounted slowly like a tongue of fire, always higher and
higher, till it was lost from sight!
XIX
My eager hands press emptiness to my heart, and it bruises my breast.
TAGORE.
Feeling weak and completely overcome by so many conflicting emotions,
Eric now began slowly to descend from the mighty height, with an intense
and overpowering desire for rest and food.
He was entirely spent, knowing that he could not go much farther unless
he found help in his need. This side of the mountain was much less steep
than the other; it led down by soft green inclines to the happy land he
saw calling to him from below.
Snow and winter, rocks and wilderness were now a thing of the past; this
was quite another world, smiling and at peace.
With stumbling feet he dragged himself along.
All zest of having won was wiped out and gone. He only felt an aching
longing for the little companion who had abandoned him in the hour of
attainment.
Was this for ever the way of the weary earth? Were all victories so sad?
He had also an unceasing desire for the voice of his old friend the
hermit, knowing that he would have been able to explain what was but
dark mystery to his searching mind.
He had the sensation of being completely forsaken and useless, a weary,
weary stranger who had no home in this world. As he was pondering, sadly
discouraged, both body and mind overwrought with fatigue, he saw the
wings of the falcon waving before him, beckoning to him like some
trusted friend; and this, at least, gave him a feeling of not being
entirely forgotten.
So on he plodded, each limb stiff and painful, his unhealed wounds
throbbing like tormented hearts, the hand at his side empty and lonely,
missing the confiding touch of the childish fingers.
Heavy with misery, his head sunk on his breast, he followed the bird
with faltering step, mechanically climbing always farther down, but a
poor ghost of his former self, looking neither to the right nor to the
left, for once quite irresponsive to all the beauty around him. He knew
not how he advanced, all had become blank and colourless. As the day
drew to an end he came to a wide mountain-meadow where a flock of sheep
was peacefully grazing.
Before he could realize what was happening he was suddenly attacked on
all sides by savage shaggy dogs that barked furiously, showing their
teeth, jumping at him, and tearing at his ragged clothes.
Eric was much too tired to oppose any resistance, and no doubt it would
have gone badly with him had not a shrill whistle unexpectedly made the
dogs stand still, all attention, their ears pointed, listening.
A heavy stick was now flung in their midst scattering them on all sides,
so that they turned and ran yelping after the peaceful sheep, masking
their discomfiture by wildly scampering round the flock.
Then a quite young boy came running towards where Eric stood in dejected
misery, his strength all spent, incapable of moving another step.
The shepherd youth, seeing how sorry was the plight of this stranger,
went quickly up to him, and laying a strong arm round his waist asked if
he could be of any help.
Eric was unable to answer; he felt the earth yielding beneath his feet;
so he simply laid his head on this sturdy peasant's shoulder and let
himself be led away, he knew not whither.
It was long before he came back to the knowledge of his surroundings. He
must have lain in a deep swoon; but after a time he felt his head being
lifted with rough kindness, whilst a bowl of warm milk was held to his
parched lips. He drank in great gulps like one utterly famished; drank
and drank till not a drop was left. Through his tired brain shot the
thought, that hit him like an aching blow, if only his little companion
were there to share this life-giving draught; then he sank back with
closed eyes, still too weak to care where he was, indifferent if he was
to live or die, all his nature one crying need of repose.
He slept many hours; indeed, so deep was his slumber that after a time
the shepherd came to where he lay, anxiously putting his hand upon the
sleeper's heart, afraid of finding it silent beneath his touch.
But he felt its regular beating against the tips of his fingers; so he
left Eric where he had laid him within the humble hut and went out to
his flock, leaning upon his long stick, his chin resting on his hands,
looking over the mountains that were gradually fading into the shades of
night. Here it was already summer, the grass grew thick and green; the
cold and frost had been left up there upon the frowning heights; indeed
it was a smiling contrast.
Eric slept all that night and through the following day; darkness was
again spreading over the world when at last he woke.
He sat up, looking about him, trying with his numbed brain to grasp his
whereabouts. The door of the hut stood wide open and close before it a
big fire had been lit.
Its crackling reminded Eric, with a pang, of the great blaze that had
saved him and the little maid from almost certain death. He saw again
the dear soft lips smiling at him from over the jumping flames,
remembered how sunken had been her eyes, and with a groan he turned his
face to the wall.
But he could not keep still very long; a mighty hunger was gnawing at
his vitals, he was in absolute need of finding food; so he rose stiffly
from his couch, stretching his aching limbs as he went to the door to
look out.
There in the flickering light of the fire sat the shepherd, a beautiful
boy with large brown eyes and dark hair hanging to his shoulders, a high
fur cap on his head with a flower behind his ear.
He was dressed in a white shirt and trousers, with linen bands wound
round his legs; on his feet he wore sandal-like shoes kept in place by
leathern thongs.
About his waist was a broad leather belt within which a flute and a
dagger had been stuck, and over his back hung a coat of shaggy
sheep-skin. Chin in hand the peasant sat staring with dreamy content
into the flames. In a circle around him lay his dogs, their heads
resting on their paws, their unkempt coats the colour of earth and
autumn-leaves. Only one enormous brute was white, which kept staring at
his master with watchful eyes, whilst the others slumbered and snored.
It was a peaceful sight; the stars coming out one by one, and not far
off the flock lay, huddled together in attitudes of repose.
Eric had moved so noiselessly that even the dogs had not heard his
approach, but now as he ventured out of the hut they immediately were
all upon him snarling and gnashing their teeth. The shepherd jumped to
his feet and came quickly to where Eric stood with a joyful exclamation
of greeting; but his guest fixed him with hollow eyes not able to utter
a word.
"I know what thou needest," cried the boy, and leading Eric back into
the hut he took from a chest two earthenware dishes, one of which was
filled with thick creamy cheese.
"Eat," said the youth, "it will do thee good; but then I want thee to
talk, for lonely forsooth are these hills; I want to hear the sound of
thy voice. I live here in utmost solitude many months of the year: I
guard my sheep and make this cheese. I play to the stars and sing to the
sun, but they are too far above and care not to talk to me: I want to
hear of thy wanderings and why thou lookest so sad. Tell me, I pray,
didst thou verily come from the other side?"
Eric seized the bowl with a hasty gesture, and greedily consumed the
tasty food, feeling as he ate how new strength began gradually to course
through his veins. Never had he been so hungry, and this simple fare was
in truth the very best dish he had ever eaten in his life!
Gratefully he looked at the young peasant, and at last he spoke:
"I cannot thank thee enough for thy spontaneous hospitality at a moment
when without thy help I would surely have died of exhaustion. Thou wast
sent me from God, as a sign that in His mercy He desireth me to continue
my road. I have come from far, so far that to me it seems as if I had
been wandering all my life."
He turned his trustful eyes to the youth, and with the smile which made
him dear to every man's heart, he continued:
"Once, it may be years ago, for I have no more count of time, I lived in
the palace of a king."
"Oh!" cried the boy, "why didst thou go?"
"Because," answered Eric, "I am seeking for a face which I cannot
find--a face that I see in my dreams; so I had to leave all that rich
ease and comfort, all that had sweetened my days, and always am I
searching and still may have to wander many a mile."
The shepherd stared at him in growing astonishment, almost afraid that
his strange guest might be crazy.
"It seems to me," he said, "that there are many faces on this earth; and
why must thou journey so far looking for what is so easy to find? Why
didst thou leave the king's palace? Forsooth, I would have remained and
lived in joy and plenty;" and merrily he laughed, showing two rows of
splendid white teeth.
Eric did not smile but replied:
"Ah! thou dost not understand. Dearly did I love my kingly master; and I
grieve that I could not listen to his bidding. But there is something
within each of us that when the time comes calls with insistent voice,
and then we must leave all and follow. I am but a foolish youth, but
this I have learnt: we cannot choose our lives nor in what way we desire
to live them; some power there is stronger than our human will that
carries us forward upon a road we do not know. I had but a short while
ago a venerable master, and these were his words: 'That each man runs
after the same thing, although each calls it by a different name.' The
master I loved said the name he had found for it was Happiness, but that
none of us realize when we have it in our hands. Why he said this I do
not know. Dearly did I love to hear him talk, but not always did I grasp
the meaning of his words."
"Happiness!" queried the peasant boy; "happiness! It soundeth sweet to
the ear; dost thou think that thou shalt find it at the end of the way?"
Eric looked out into the flames of the fire before he slowly replied:
"The master said that we could grasp but the shadow, that the thing
itself was God's. Deeply have I pondered over the sense of this saying,
and this is what I have found in my mind: God hath not time for each
man's clamouring, so He has strewn over the world things that shine and
things that lie in the shadow; those that shine dazzle the eye and give
pleasure, and those in the dark awake a longing to know, and thus God
leads each man forward to search for himself, each according to his
desire. But the wise man said that few reach it in the end, and when
they do they seldom may keep it long. Ah! but I wish I knew! My heart is
so full of longing, and yet I feel that some part of it will never be
filled!"
But the peasant boy wanted to hear of other things; to him this talk was
but a waste of time.
"Tell me, hast thou really climbed over this barrier of mountains; and
how is it thou didst not perish on the way?"
Gundian took his sword between both hands, and looked at it with tears
in his eyes:
"This sword kept me from death when I thought my last hour had come, and
always, when all hope seemed at an end, something there was that saved
me in my bitterest need.
"The old man of the hills believed in my power to win, and
then ..."--Eric's voice trembled as he spoke--"I had at my side a sweet
little soul that providentially had been given into my care; and a
curious thing have I learnt: we can do for others what we cannot do for
ourselves. Many a time would I have given in and died, had not the soft
hand of the child kept hold on my life by the desire I felt that it
should not perish!"
And then, his hands folded over the hilt of his sword, dreamily gazing
afar off, Eric related, with many words, all he had seen and done.
The eyes of the lonely rustic hung, with ever growing interest, upon the
face of his wonderful companion, and many a time did a loud exclamation
either of joy or fear break from his lips; and when Eric told of the
vision of angels, the boy started to his feet, hands joined in an
ecstasy of delight.
"Thou didst see the heavenly hosts! Oh, tell me! Tell me! Were they
indeed so fair? were their wings all shining and bright? had they crowns
on their heads? And were their robes of snowy white? didst thou hear the
sound of their voices? did they come quite near to thee? Oh! speak, I
pray!"
Eric smiled very sadly.
"They brought peace to my soul at a moment when I thought my heart would
break"; and within his mind our wanderer saw the face of his little
friend smiling down upon him with lips that a breath of Heaven had
already kissed.
"And now," asked the youth, "where art thou going? Or wilt thou remain
with me? I am very forsaken up here on this far-off meadow. But dost
know, it is said that no human foot can cross those mountains that thou
hast scaled; it is said that amongst those lonely heights there is
eternal snow and ice, and that it is always winter there when summer
smiles on us here."
"Indeed it was cold; but what has crushed my joy is that it was not
given me to save the child that Fate confided to my care; and this thou
must know: that at the very instant I thought I had won, the Hand of God
took from me what would have made my victory sweet. Indeed I reached the
highest peak, and looked down upon the whole of the world beneath ...
but ... well, I cannot explain--because I am too unlearned.
"I fear that I may not yet understand--I know not if thus it is with all
we touch; the master I loved would have told me for sure if there is a
hidden explanation I cannot grasp.