THE DISCIPLE OF LOVE
Next day at noon, Montrose returned to Tremore accompanied by the
doctor, to be received by the housekeeper, as Mr. Enistor had gone to
see Señor Narvaez, and Alice was still in bed. Knowing from Eberstein
that the girl had been submitted to an ordeal, Douglas anxiously
demanded if she was ill. But, much to his relief, the answer immediately
reassured him.
"Ill, sir? No, sir," responded the housekeeper, who was a voluble
talker, "though she did go to bed early last night with no dinner and
only a glass of milk to keep her up, which isn't enough nourishment for
a young thing like Miss Alice. But she was sleeping so lovely that the
master said she had better sleep on. But I think she is getting up now,
sir, and when she knows that you are here, sir----" the housekeeper
looked significantly at the young man and departed smiling, with her
sentence uncompleted. She was an old and valued servant, who quite
approved of the match.
"You are sure Alice hasn't suffered?" demanded Montrose for the
twentieth time, and prowling restlessly about the drawing-room.
"Nothing to speak of," answered the doctor serenely, explaining himself
as he would have done to a child. "Narvaez and his pupil were permitted
to go so far and no farther. They have learned what they wished to
know, and I hope the knowledge will do them both good."
"What is the knowledge?"
"There is no need for you to know at present, my friend. You saw what
you did see in my London house, and with that you must be content to
work out your present Destiny."
"If it is a case of Destiny I am helpless, doctor."
"I think not. Certain things must happen because you put certain forces
into action five thousand years ago. But such events will work out for
good or bad, as you apply the Law of Love or the Law of Hate. Man makes
his own Karma, but he can modify the same to a certain extent by using
his will-power."
Montrose sighed. "I am so much in the dark, I don't know how to act."
"You will know how to act when the time comes, if you are true to the
teaching of Christ," said Eberstein gently.
"But if you would only advise me what to do?"
"In that case you would only gain the Karma of obedience: good in
itself, but less than is demanded. Your future has to do at the moment
with Alice and her father and Narvaez, but if I told you the precise
reasons why you have come together, you would be hampered in your
actions. Watch and pray, my friend, and abide by the Law of Love. Then
you will receive the guidance of the Blessed One, who is building up
Himself within you."
"I shall do my best."
"That is all that is asked of you and of any one. If a man acts up to
the highest ideal he can conceive, nothing more is demanded. And one
word of warning, Montrose. Alice is quite ignorant of the use made of
her clairvoyant powers last night. Therefore do not ask indiscreet
questions."
"Do you mean to say that she does not know what she told Narvaez and her
father?"
"No, she does not. Ignorance is as necessary for her as for you at
present."
Montrose objected. "If you would only point out the pitfalls to both of
us, doctor, we might avoid them."
"These same pitfalls are the creation of your own free-will, and of your
own free-will you must avoid them," said Eberstein decisively. "Only
experience will teach the necessary lesson which has to be learned, and
by making yourself receptive to the Eternal Ego you can always gain the
guidance of the Great One, who works through that same Ego."
The young man sighed again, for this epigrammatic teaching was so
difficult and--to him--so involved that he wondered why Eberstein did
not speak plainly and have done with it. Walking to the window and
looking out at the dark woodland a stone's-throw away, where the trees
were being tormented by a blustering wind, he pondered over the problem,
but could find no answer thereto. After a pause, Eberstein advanced and
laid a kind hand on his shoulder, reading his thoughts and pitying his
perplexity.
"Our teaching is meant to stimulate the mind," he said impressively.
"Therefore hints are given rather than full explanations, and the pupil
has to use his brains to expand those hints into the necessary
knowledge. In this way he progresses, as what he gains by this system
of instruction is thoroughly learned, which would not be the case if his
path were made easier."
"I think Christ taught in the way you mention," mused Montrose. "I
remember how many of His sayings puzzled me--and for the matter of that
still do."
Eberstein nodded. "Regarding earthly things He spoke plainly, as in the
case of giving tribute to Cæsar, because people could understand. But as
they were unable to comprehend heavenly things the Blessed One could
only instruct them in parables, and give hints. By doing this last He
roused those He spoke to into puzzling out the meaning."
"Give me an example."
"The Four Gospels are filled with examples. To take one instance. When
the people asked: 'Who is this Son of Man?' Jesus replied, 'Yet a little
while is the light with you!' If the people could have connected the
saying about the Light of the World with this speech, they would have
grasped the fact that He spoke of Himself. He was the Son of Man: He was
the Light of the World. But," quoted Eberstein sadly from St. John's
Gospel, "though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they
believed not on Him."
Before Montrose could comment on this speech, Alice entered the room and
flew like a homing bird to her nest in his arms. She looked weak and
very pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and had a general
appearance of debility. For the moment she did not notice the doctor,
but could only weep on her lover's breast. Mindful that he was not to
ask indiscreet questions, Douglas could only smooth her hair and
whisper comfortable endearments. After a time, Alice responded to this
gentle treatment.
"I am so glad you have come, Douglas," she faltered wearily. "Last night
I had two hours of great suffering in this very room. I felt as though
all light were withdrawn and just as if I had fallen into an Abyss of
Darkness. Then I heard, or fancied I heard, my father calling for me and
went into the library, where he was sitting almost in the dark. He said
that he wanted to speak about you. But I saw Señor Narvaez lying on the
floor, and refused to stay. I went to bed and slept for hours and hours.
I have just got up."
"Why was Señor Narvaez lying on the floor?" asked Eberstein quietly, and
more to set her at her ease than because he wished for a reply.
"Oh, doctor, how are you? I am so glad you have come. Don't think me
rude not saying anything. I feel so upset. My father said that Señor
Narvaez had fainted with the heat of the room. It was hot."
"How long were you in the library?" asked Douglas with anxiety.
"Only a few moments. I could not bear to stay where Señor Narvaez was."
Eberstein glanced significantly at Montrose to draw attention to the
fact that Alice was quite unaware of the flight of time when undergoing
her ordeal. Then he asked her to sit down and spoke gently as he took
her two hands within his own. "You said that you were in darkness. That
is not the case now."
"No, it isn't, doctor. The feeling of light came back when I went to
bed, and I did not feel so miserable. I was glad to sleep. And yet,"
Alice looked at the two men in a bewildered manner, "the rest doesn't
seem to have done me any good. I feel as if I had walked miles. Do you
think that what I suffered from the darkness last night has exhausted
me?"
"Yes," replied Eberstein quietly. "That was the hour of your Gethsemane.
Now you are feeling better: the light is around you again: the
life-forces are rebuilding your strength. Look into my eyes."
Instinctively obedient, Alice did so. Already through the doctor's hands
she felt a warm current passing up her arms and into her body, but when
she met his steady grey eyes the magnetism of the life-power he was
giving her tingled throughout her entire frame. The brightness returned
to her eyes, the colour of health flushed her cheeks: her nerves ceased
to thrill with pain, and her muscles grew strong. In silent astonishment
Montrose looked at the rapid transformation which was taking place under
his eyes. From a colourless statue, the girl warmed into rosy life, and
when Eberstein dropped her hands she sprang to her feet to stand in the
shaft of sunlight which had broken through the heavy clouds of the
autumnal day.
"Oh, I feel that I have been born again to a more splendid life," she
cried in ecstasy, and looked as though she were transfigured, which
certainly was the case. "Oh, thank you, doctor: thank you: thank you.
How did you do it?"
"Yes. How did you do it?" asked Douglas, also intensely curious.
"I suppose you would call it a case of hypnotic suggestion," smiled
Eberstein, putting his explanation in simple words which they could
understand. "I have stimulated Alice's will to command the inflowing of
the life-currents from the vital body into the physical, and have added
a trifle of my own strength, which I can well spare."
"It is wonderful: wonderful," cried Alice, radiant with unusual life,
and smiling like the goddess of spring.
"All things are wonderful, because all things are God. He manifests in
the many. Thank Him, my child!"
Alice was silent for a moment and breathed an inward prayer of profound
gratitude, which was echoed in the thoughts of her lover. Then she
descended to earth and apologised for the absence of her father. "He
went to see if Don Pablo was better, and will be back to luncheon. That
was the message he sent up to my room."
"I quite understand," said Eberstein, nodding gravely. "Of course Don
Pablo is an old man, and has not much strength."
"You could give it to him," said Alice, rejoicing in her glorious
vitality.
"I could but cannot, because Don Pablo would refuse to accept help from
me, and I could but will not, because he would turn such strength to an
evil purpose."
Alice nodded and shivered. "He is not a good man. I hate him."
"You must pity him. He is not good, it is true, but that is because he
is dominated by his lower self. For him as for all men God has nothing
but everlasting love."
"But he is my enemy," remonstrated the girl, perplexed. "I feel that he
is my enemy, doctor."
"What of that? Does not the Great Master tell us to love our enemies?"
"But that standard is impossible to reach," said Montrose quickly.
"If you act in your own strength it is. But all things are possible with
God, and only in His strength do we conquer. Do not think of Narvaez as
bad, for by doing so your angry thoughts add to the burden of evil he
bears. Send thoughts of love and pity to refresh his struggling soul,
which the animal forces are striving to overwhelm."
"I am sorry for him in one way," murmured Alice. "At least I think that
I am sorry."
"You have every reason to be, but I don't think you truly are," said
Eberstein dryly. "Because you read the letter of the commandment and do
not comprehend the spirit. I cannot very well explain either to you or
to Montrose, as your limitations are yet great. But I ask you both to
pity the man and to hope that he may grow better."
"Oh, I shall do that," said Douglas readily. "There is great room for
improvement, isn't there?"
"In Narvaez, as in you, and in Alice, and in Enistor. Who can afford to
throw a stone at any one?"
Montrose flushed a trifle at the implied rebuke, but never dreamed of
defending himself, as he looked upon the doctor as an oracle to be
listened to and obeyed with all reverence. Eberstein smiled approvingly
when he noted how the young man curbed both thought and word, then
changed the subject by commenting on the impressive looks of the house
and its commanding situation. Alice was gratified to hear Tremore
praised, but hinted at the uncomfortable atmosphere of the place.
"I always feel as though I were battling against depression here,
doctor. The rooms and furniture are both so sombre."
"Every house has its own psychic atmosphere, which comes from the
sayings and doings of those who live in it," explained the visitor. "I
cannot say that the influence of this beautiful place tends to calm the
spirit."
Montrose agreed. "When I first came here I felt that it was a kind of
battle-ground, full of tumult and war."
"And so it is. Invisible forces of good and evil strive here
continuously as I can feel. You sense them also, Alice, as you are more
or less clairvoyant."
"Yes, I know," admitted the girl, with a nervous glance round the room.
"And the evil is stronger than the good, I fancy."
"At present that is the case. But we must change the conditions and make
this house a centre of holy power to bless instead of curse."
"You will have to keep Narvaez out of the place then," observed Douglas
abruptly. "And that will be difficult, as he is a friend of the
Squire's."
"Quite so," said Eberstein calmly. "I came here to aid Mr. Enistor, as
well as to help you and Alice. He is being wrongly guided by Narvaez."
As if the mention of his name had evoked his presence, the Squire made
his appearance unexpectedly. He did not look pleased, as Don Pablo had
refused to see him, for the first time during their acquaintanceship.
Enistor therefore returned in a somewhat gloomy frame of mind, but
smoothed his brow and assumed his company manners when he greeted the
doctor. He knew well enough that his guest was "The Adversary" so often
mentioned by Narvaez, but knew also how the Law of Love which Eberstein
obeyed prevented hostile treatment. He therefore felt safe and indeed
rather contemptuous, since he was unfettered by scruples himself, and
did not care what means he employed against the aims of the doctor,
whatever they might be. Yet the downfall of Narvaez on the previous
night should have warned him against over-confidence, and would have
done so had not the man been so besotted with intellectual pride.
Eberstein knew of this Satanic attitude, but gave no sign of his
knowledge beyond a pitying glance at Enistor's powerful face when they
shook hands.
"You have a beautiful place here," he remarked lightly. "I was just
admiring the position when you came in."
"It is well enough, but a trifle lonely," said the Squire rather
ungraciously. "Still, I can amuse you by showing our family treasures,
which are many. How do you feel, Alice?" he asked, turning abruptly to
his daughter, and anxiously wondering if she was aware of the
information she had given on the previous night. "I hope you are
better."
"Oh, I am quite well now, father. Dr. Eberstein has done me good."
"I have an excellent bedside manner," interposed Eberstein quickly, as
he did not wish Alice to explain too much. "And I have cheered up Miss
Enistor."
"That is well. She had a fit of the blues last night, and would not
listen to what I had to say to her in the library."
"Señor Narvaez was there and he always makes me uncomfortable,"
protested the girl in a troubled way.
"You are full of fancies, Alice," retorted Enistor in an acid tone. "And
as Narvaez had fainted you might have remained to help me. However, it
was just as well you retired to bed and slept for such a long time, as
you were not quite yourself last night. Well," he added with an
assumption of benevolence, "as Montrose was away from you, it was
natural you should feel dismal. Ah, these young men, doctor: they steal
the hearts of our children."
"And exhibit no shame in doing so," said Eberstein humorously. "Cupid
was ever a robber, Mr. Enistor."
Then the gong thundered an invitation to luncheon, which proved to be a
truly delightful meal. Alice, with her recovered strength, was filled
with the joy of life, and Douglas, seeing her in such good spirits, was
very merry in his turn. As to the doctor, he made himself so
entertaining in talking of all that was going on in the great world that
Enistor unbent considerably, and silently acknowledged that The
Adversary was better company than Narvaez. By the end of the meal, both
Squire and doctor were on the best of terms. Not for many a long day had
such gaiety reigned at Tremore.
After luncheon Alice and Douglas stole away after the fashion of lovers
who desire solitude to express their feelings freely. Enistor was left
alone to entertain his guest, and conducted the doctor to the library,
to show him certain black-letter folios which were of great antiquity
and great value. Eberstein, charmed with the treasures of the library
and with the spacious room, revealed himself to be no mean judge of
books and furniture and ancient manuscripts. More than ever Enistor felt
that this debonair gentleman was not to be feared and became uncommonly
friendly with him.
"I wish you would come and stay here for a week, doctor," he said
impulsively. "It is such a pleasure to meet any one so well read and
well informed on all subjects as you are."
"You flatter me," responded the doctor cordially. "I should be delighted
to accept your invitation, and may do at a later date. Meanwhile, I have
business which detains me in Perchton for a short time. But you have the
society of Señor Narvaez," he added, with a keen glance. "And I hear
from Mr. Hardwick, whom I met yesterday, that he is most entertaining."
"Hardly the word to be used," said Enistor composedly, and wondering why
the reference was made. "He is learned and serious."
"I don't see why learning need necessarily involve seriousness.
Knowledge should make one happy, and happiness shows itself in gaiety."
Enistor, fidgeting with a parchment, frowned. "Do you think that
knowledge should make one happy?"
"Why not, if the knowledge be rightly applied?"
"In what way?"
"To help others less learned."
"Why should it be?" demanded Enistor defiantly.
"Why should it not be?" countered the doctor swiftly. "What is the use
of hiding one's light under a bushel?"
"That is a strange sentiment from you, doctor. It implies vanity, as if
you wished others to see and envy your light. Well, I suppose that would
be a source of gratification to any one."
"It is but a narrow mind that finds gratification in possessing what
another person lacks. You will find the explanation of my real meaning
in saying what surprises you in the text: 'Let your light so shine
before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father
which is in heaven.' It is the Father who does the works, and the Father
therefore should surely receive the praise."
"Who is the Father?"
"In the greater sense God, in the minor degree The Ego, which is a part
of God. Through the minor power the greater power works, and to Him be
the glory, Mr. Enistor. I daresay you know something of these things."
"I know a great deal," said the Squire in a proud tone, "but I do not
interpret them as you do. If I do anything I take the praise to myself.
It is I who do it, not this Father, big or little, you talk about."
Eberstein quoted solemnly: "Thou couldst have no power at all against
Me, except it were given thee from above."
"That is from the Bible, I take it," said Enistor scornfully. "Well,
you see, I don't believe in the Bible. It is a series of old documents
filled with contradictions and mistakes and impossibilities."
"Ah, you think so because you read the letter and do not understand the
spirit. If you were not so limited you would comprehend the true meaning
of the contradictions and mistakes which puzzle you."
"They don't puzzle me," retorted the other resentfully. "Such rubbish is
not worth puzzling about. And I am not limited in any way."
"Ah. Then your knowledge is as wide as that of--shall we say Narvaez?"
"No. But then he is an older man and has had more time to study. But I
am learning swiftly."
"And the personality you know as Squire Enistor of Tremore is taking all
that learning to use for its own ends."
"Why not, when such personality is myself?"
"The lower self: all the self you know," corrected Eberstein serenely.
"What other self is there?"
"The Greater Self: that spark of God, which is you--the Eternal You.
Bring your learning to That, Enistor, and you will become One with the
Great Father through Christ the Son by the influence of the Holy Ghost."
"Well, if I am that Greater Self, as you say, I work for myself, and
therefore deserve praise for my work and the reward also."
"You work only for the limited self which you know. You are not aware of
your Greater Self, because it is veiled from you. All you are doing at
present is to thicken those veils instead of thinning them. Are you not
aware that God is the One manifesting Himself in us, the Many? We are
all striving to return to Him, the source of our Being. This being the
case, through life after life we have to widen our limitations, so that
instead of knowing ourselves as man--as you do--we come to know
ourselves as gods, one with the Great God, yet individualised for His
holy purpose. Why do you seek to limit your powers, to circumscribe your
knowledge?"
"What rubbish you talk, doctor," cried the Squire, opening his eyes in
genuine amazement. "Why, I am trying hard to increase my knowledge and
gain power."
"Power for yourself," said Eberstein quickly, "and by so doing you are
narrowing your circle of action. By giving, you widen out to the
consciousness of the Deity: by taking, you build yourself a little hut
in which you sit as a very shabby little god."
"But Narvaez has powers you do not dream of."
"I know more about Narvaez than you think, Mr. Enistor. He is doing in a
much greater degree what you are striving to do in a smaller way under
his misguided instruction. Was not the warning given last night in this
very room enough to shake your faith in his powers?"
The Squire started back frowning. "You know what took place?"
"Of course I know, and you know that I know. Come, Enistor, let us talk
freely, for I want to help you, and you need more help than you dream
of. Narvaez calls me The Adversary, and so I am: not so much adverse to
you and him, as to your doings. Your spirit is one with my spirit, as
is that of Narvaez', and I wish to aid that other part of myself to
fight against the animal self which is trying to overpower it. The
spirit cannot be harmed overmuch truly; but the soul can be made a slave
to the senses."
"Have you come here to measure your strength against mine?" demanded
Enistor in a furious manner.
Eberstein smiled. "If I put forth my strength against Narvaez, much less
against you, the result would surprise you. But I act under the Law of
Love, which gives every man free-will, and does not allow domination."
"Narvaez was dominated last night," admitted the Squire reluctantly.
"Did you strike him down?"
"No. A Great Power struck him down in very mercy, as he was going too
far, and it is hoped that the warning may turn him from his evil ways.
He is my brother as well as you are, Enistor, and I wish to help you
both."
"I don't want your help, unless you can make me rich and powerful."
"I could make you both, and you would use what I gave you to damn
yourself yet deeper. Narvaez is dragging you down to the abyss into
which he is surely descending. In Atlantis he lured you into his nets by
promising to gratify your desire for personal power over men; by giving
you wealth to pander to your animal passions. Life after life, as in
Chaldea, he has made you more and more his slave by working through your
senses."
"I am not a slave!" cried Enistor indignantly.
"Indeed you are. To Narvaez and to your own evil passions. You, who are
a god in the making, obey him. Like Judas Iscariot he is a son of
perdition and wishes to make you one also, because your intellect is
useful to him. Again and again, in many lives, you have been helped in
order that you may break away from this bondage; but you will not, and
until of your own free will you elect to break away, nothing can be done
to save you."
"Where is the boasted power of Christ?" sneered Enistor contemptuously.
"Poor soul, why blaspheme? Christ stands at the door of your heart
waiting until you open the door. He does not enter unless He is invited,
so how can He use what you call His boasted power, unless you will
accept His aid. Humble yourself, Enistor. Say as did the prodigal son:
'Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more
worthy to be called thy son.' Then you will learn how great is His
mercy: how sweet His compassion."
"I refuse: I refuse! I am myself: none shall rule me."
"Narvaez rules you, and will you bend to him rather than to the Holy
One?"
"I make use of Narvaez!"
"He makes use of you rather. Oh, blind, blind! Already he is plotting
and scheming to gain you riches in this life as he did in others, so
that he may bind you the more securely to him."
"If that is the case why don't you thwart his schemes?" taunted Enistor.
"He has free-will, and must act according to his own judgment. Moreover,
those he plots against are delivered into his hand by their own acts.
One is, at all events. Alice escaped from his rule in Chaldea when he
slew her by his black magic, and since then he has striven vainly to
enchain her again. Montrose is at his mercy and at yours, because of the
crime he committed in the Temple of the Star-Angel. He stabbed you and
carried away a vestal, in spite of my warnings. For this reason Narvaez
has power over him, and as, through love, the Karma of Alice is
connected with the Karma of Montrose, she has to suffer in a vicarious
way. But Narvaez cannot rule her."
"He can rule Montrose however," sneered the Squire.
"Not in the way you think. Ignorance has made Montrose helpless, as he
sinned through blind passion. But he has not deliberately given himself
over to the Dark Powers as you have."
"I have not given myself over."
"You have--believe me you have," insisted Eberstein. "And even now your
evil master fears lest you should escape, as your soul is striving
mightily. There are germs of good in you which I am trying to awaken.
Now a great chance is being given to you to escape from the bondage of
sin. See that you take it."
"What chance?"
"Montrose owes you a life: he is possessed of a fortune which you think
you ought to have. Forgive him his sin against you, and admit that he
has a right to keep the fortune. Then your chains will break."
"And if I refuse?"
"The greater will be your sufferings, both in this life and in others."
"You threaten, do you?"
"I plead and warn. But I see that you will not listen, therefore I talk
in vain." Eberstein was silent for a moment, then added quietly, "But it
may be that the Blessed One working through Montrose may save you yet.
Great is the mercy of God and great is His patience."
Eberstein then left the room. Enistor gazed after him with a sneer.
"Why, I believe he is afraid of me," he muttered, with inconceivable
foolishness.