THE INITIATE
You may, perhaps, have wondered why a man so full of human failings,
and set in so unheroic a mould as Master Nathaniel Chanticleer should
have been cast for so great a role. Yet the highest spiritual destinies
are not always reserved for the strongest men, nor for the most
virtuous ones.
But though he had been chosen as Duke Aubrey's deputy and initiated
into the Ancient Mysteries, he had not ceased to be in many ways the
same Master Nathaniel as of old--whimsical, child-like, and, often,
unreasonable. Nor, I fear, did he cease to be the prey of melancholy.
I doubt whether initiation ever brings happiness. It may be that the
final secret revealed is a very bitter one ... or it may be that the
final secret had not yet been revealed to Master Nathaniel.
And, strange to say, far from being set up by his new honours, he felt
oddly ashamed of them--it was almost as if he was for the first time
running the gauntlet of his friends' eyes after having been afflicted
by some physical disfigurement.
* * * * *
When things had returned again to their usual rut, Master Ambrose came
to spend a quiet evening with Master Nathaniel.
They sat for some time in silence puffing at their pipes, and then
Master Ambrose said, "Tell me what your theory is about Endymion Leer,
Nat. He was a double-dyed villain, all right, I suppose?"
Master Nathaniel did not answer at once, and then he said thoughtfully,
"I suppose so. I read the report of his defence, however, and his words
seemed to me to ring true. But I think there was some evil lurking in
his soul, and everything he touched was contaminated by it, even fairy
fruit--even Duke Aubrey."
"And that spiritual sin he accused himself of ... what do you suppose
it was?"
"I think," said Master Nathaniel slowly, "he may have mishandled the
sacred objects of the Mysteries."
"What are these sacred objects, Nat?"
Master Nathaniel moved uneasily in his chair, and said, with an
embarrassed little laugh, "Life and death, I suppose." He hated being
asked about these sorts of things.
Master Ambrose sat for a few moments pondering, and then he said, "It
was curious how in all his attacks on you he defeated his own ends."
"Yes," cried Master Nathaniel, with much more animation than he had
hitherto shown, "that was really very curious. Everything he did
produced exactly the opposite effect he had intended it should. He
feared the Chanticleers, and wanted to be rid of them, so he gets
Ranulph off to Fairyland, whence nobody had ever before returned. And
he manages to get me so discredited that I have to leave Lud, and he
thinks me safely out of the way. But, in reality, he was only bringing
about his own downfall. I have to leave Lud, and so I go to the farm,
and there I find old Gibberty's incriminating document. While the fact
of Ranulph's having gone off yonder sends me after him, and that is
why, I suppose, I come back as Duke Aubrey's deputy," and again he gave
an embarrassed laugh; and then added dreamily, "It is useless to try
and circumvent the Duke."
"He who rides the wind needs must go where his steed carries him,"
quoted Master Ambrose.
Master Nathaniel smiled, and for some minutes they puffed at their
pipes in silence.
Then Master Nathaniel gave a reminiscent chuckle: "Those were queer
months that we lived through, Ambrose!" he cried. "All of us, that's
to say those of us who had parts to play, seemed to be living each
others' dreams or dreaming each others' lives, whichever way you choose
to put it, and the most incongruous things began to rhyme--apples
and bleeding corpses and trees and ghosts. Yes, all our dreams got
entangled. Leer makes a speech about men and trees, and I find the
solution of the situation under a herm, which is half a man and half
a tree, and you see the juice of fairy fruit and think that it is the
dead bleeding--and so on. Yes, my adventures went on getting more and
more like a dream till ... the climax," and he paused abruptly.
A long silence followed, broken at last by Master Ambrose. "Well, Nat,"
he said, "I think I've had a lesson in humility. I used to have as good
an opinion of myself as most men, I think, but now I've learned that
I'm a very ordinary sort of fellow, made of very inferior clay to you
and my Moonlove--all the things that you know at first hand and I can
only take on faith."
"Suppose, Ambrose, that what we know at first hand is only this--that
there is nothing to know?" said Master Nathaniel a little sadly. Then
he sank into a brown study, and Master Ambrose, thinking he wanted to
be alone, stole quietly from the room.
Master Nathaniel sat gazing moodily into the fire; and his pipe went
out without his noticing it. Then the door opened softly, and someone
stole in and stood behind his chair. It was Dame Marigold. All she said
was, "Funny old Nat!" but her voice had a husky tenderness. And then
she knelt down beside him and took him into her soft warm arms. And a
new hope was borne in upon Master Nathaniel that someday he would hear
the Note again, and all would be clear.