"You bade me look my last upon my dream of Love!" I said--"But you knew
that was impossible, for Love is no dream!"
The golden radiance widened into a perfect splendour, and our boat now
glided over a shining sea. As in a vision I saw the figure that steered
and guided it, change from darkness to brightness--the black fold fell
from its face--Angel eyes looked at me--Angel lips smiled!--and then--I
found myself suddenly alone on the shore of a little bay, blue as a
sapphire in the reflection of the blue sky above it. The black stretch
of water which had seemed so dreary and impassable had disappeared, and
to my astonishment I recognised the very shore near the rock garden
which was immediately under my turret room. I looked everywhere for the
woman who had been in the boat with me--for the boat itself and its
guide--but there was no trace of them. Where and how far I had wandered
I could not imagine--but presently, regaining nerve and courage, I
began to fancy that perhaps my strange experience had been preordained
and planned as some test of my faith and fortitude. Had I failed?
Surely not! For I had not doubted the truth of God or the power of
Love! There was only one thing which puzzled me,--the memory of those
voices behind a wall--the voices which had spoken of Rafel's death and
treachery. I could not quite rid myself of the anxiety they had
awakened in my mind though I tried hard not to yield to the temptation
of fear and suspicion. I knew and felt that after all it is the voices
of the world which work most harm to love--and that neither poverty nor
sorrow can cut the threads of affection between lovers so swiftly as
falsehood and calumny. And yet I allowed myself to be moved by vague
uneasiness on this account, and could not entirely regain perfect
composure.
The door of the winding stair leading to my room in the turret stood
open--and I availed myself of this tacit permission to return thither.
I found everything as I had left it, except that when I sought for the
mysterious little room hung with purple silk, where I had begun to read
the book called 'The Secret of Life,' a book which through all my
strange adventure I still had managed to keep with me, I could not find
it. The walls around me were solid; there was no sign of an opening
anywhere.
I sat down by the window to think. There before my eyes was the sea,
calm, and in the full radiance of a brilliant sun. No mysterious or
magic art suggested itself in the visible scene of a smiling summer
day. Had I been long absent from this room, I wondered? I could not
tell. Time seemed to be annihilated. And so far as I myself was
concerned I desired nothing in this world or the next save just to know
if Rafel Santoris still lived--and--yes!--one other assurance--to feel
that I still possessed the treasure of his love. All the past, present
and future hung on this possibility,--there was nothing more to hope
for or to attain. For if I had lost Love, then God Himself could give
me no comfort, since the essential link with Divine things was broken.
Gradually a great and soothing quietude stole over me and the cloud of
depression that had hung over my mind began to clear. I thought of my
recent experience with the man and woman who had sought to 'rescue' me,
as they said, and how when in sheer desperation I had called "Rafel!
Rafel!" they had suddenly disappeared and left me free. Surely this was
a sufficient proof that I was not forgotten by him who had professed to
love me?--and that his aid might still be depended upon? Why should I
doubt him?
I had placed my book, 'The Secret of Life,' on the table when I
re-entered my room--but now I took it up again, and the pages fell open
at the following passage:--
"When once you possess the inestimable treasure of love, remember that
every effort will be made to snatch it from you. There is nothing the
world envies so much as a happy soul! Those who have been your dearest
friends will turn against you because you have a joy in which they do
not share,--they will unite with your foes to drag you down from your
height of Paradise. The powers of the coarse and commonplace will be
arrayed against you--shafts of disdain and ridicule will be hurled at
your tenderest feelings,--venomous lies and cruel calumnies will be
circulated around you,--all to try and draw you from the circle of
light into darkness and chaos. If you would stand firm, you must stand
within the whirlwind; if you would maintain the centre-poise of your
Soul, you must preserve the balance of movement,--the radiant and
deathless atoms whereof your Body and Spirit are composed must be under
steady control and complete organisation like a well disciplined army,
otherwise the disintegrating forces set up by the malign influences of
others around you will not only attack your happiness, but your health,
break down your strength and murder your peace. Love is the only glory
of Life,--the Heart and Pulse of all things,--a possession denied to
earth's greatest conquerors--a talisman which opens all the secrets of
Nature--a Divinity whose power is limitless, and whose benediction
bestows all beauty, all sweetness, all joy! Bear this in mind, and
never forget how such a gift is grudged to those who have it by those
who have it not!"
Reading thus far, a light began to break in upon me. Had not all the
weird and inexplicable experience of the past hours (or days) tended to
shake me from Love and destroy my allegiance to the ideal I cherished?
And--had I yielded to the temptation? Had I failed? I dared not
estimate either failure or success!
Leaving my place at the window, I saw that the little 'lift' or dresser
in the wall had come up noiselessly with its usual daintily prepared
refection of fruit and bread and deliciously cool spring water. I had
felt neither hunger nor thirst during my strange wanderings in unknown
places, but now I was quite ready for a meal, and enjoyed it with all
the zest of an unspoilt appetite. When I had finished, I returned to my
precious book, and placing it on the table, I propped up my head
between my two hands and set myself resolutely to study. And I write
down here the passages I read, exactly as I found them, for those who
care to practise the lessons they teach.