Across the Zodiac (57 page)

Scarcely had we resumed our places than a startling incident gave a
new turn to the scene. Approaching the barrier, a woman, veiled, but
wearing the sash and star, knelt for a moment to the presence of the
Arch-Teacher, and then, as the barrier was thrown open by the
sentries, came up to the dais.

"She," said the new-comer, "has a message for you, Clavelta, for your
Council, and particularly for the last of its members."

"It is well," he answered.

The messenger took her seat among the Initiates, and Esmo dismissed
the assembly in the solemn form employed on the former occasion. Then,
followed by the twelve, and guided by the messenger (the gloved
fingers of whose left hand, as I observed, he very slightly touched
with his own right), he passed by another door out of the Hall, and
along one of the many passages of the subterrene Temple, into a
chamber resembling in every respect an apartment in an ordinary
residence. Here, with her veil, as is permitted only to maidenhood,
drawn back from her face, but covering almost entirely her neck and
bosom, and clad in the vestal white, reclined with eyes nearly closed
a young girl, in whose countenance a beauty almost spiritual was
enhanced rather than marred by signs of physical ill-health painfully
unmistakable. Warning us back with a slight movement of his hand, Esmo
approached her. Our presence had at first seemed to cast her into
almost convulsive agitation; but under his steady gaze and the
movement of his hands, she lapsed almost instantly into what appeared
to be profound slumber.

The practical information that concerned the present peril menacing
the Order delivered, and when it was plain that no further revelation
or counsel was to be expected on this all-important topic, Esmo
beckoned to me, taking my hand in his own and placing it very gently
and carefully in that of the unconscious sybil. The effect, however,
was startling. Without unclosing her eyes, she sprang into a sitting
posture and clasped my hand almost convulsively with her own long,
thin all but transparent fingers. Turning her face to mine, and
seeming, though her eyes were closed, as if she looked intently into
it, she murmured words at first unintelligible, but which seemed by
degrees to bear clearer and clearer reference to some of the stormy
scenes of my youth in another world. Then—as one looking upon
pictures but partially intelligible to her, and commenting on them as
a girl who had never seen or known the passions and the mutual enmity
of men—she startled me by breaking into the kind of chant in which
the peculiar verse of her language is commonly delivered. My own
thought of the moment was not her guide. The Moslem battle-cry had
rung too often in my ears ever to be forgotten; but up to that moment
I had never recalled to memory the words in which on my last field I
retorted upon my Arab comrades, when flinching from a third charge
against those terrible "sons of Eblis," whose stubborn courage had
already twice hurled us back in confusion and disgrace with a hundred
empty saddles. At first her tone was one of simple amaze and horror.
It softened afterwards into wonder and perplexity, and the
oft-repeated rebuke or curse was on its last recurrence spoken with
more of pitying tenderness and regret than of severity:—

"What! those are human bosoms whereon the brute hath trod!
What! through the storm of slaughter rings the appeal to God!
Through the smoke and flash of battle a single form is shown;
O'er clang and crash and rattle peals out one trumpet-tone—
'Strike, for Allah and the Prophet! let Eblis take his own!'

"Strange! the soul that, fresh from carnage, quailed not alone to face
The unfathomed depths of Darkness, the solitudes of Space!
Strange! the smile of scorn, while nerveless dropped the sword-arm from
the sting,
On the death that scowled at distance, on the closing murder-ring.
Strange! no crimson stain on conscience from the hand in gore imbrued!
But Death haunts the death-dealer; blood taints the life of blood!

"Strange! the arm that smote and spared not in the tempest of the strife,
Quivers with pitying terror—clings, for a maiden's life!
Strange! the heart steel-hard to death-shrieks by girlish tears subdued;
The falcon's sheathless talons among the esve's brood!
But Death haunts the death-dealer; blood taints the life of blood.

"The breast for woman's peril that dared the despot's ire,
Shall dauntless front, and scathless, the closing curve of fire.
The heart, by household treason stung home, that can forgive,
Shall brave a woman's hatred, a woman's wiles, and live.

"A woman's well-won fealty shall give the life he gave,
Love shall redeem the loving, and Sacrifice shall save.
But—God heal the tortured spirit, God calm the maddened mood;
For Death haunts the death-dealer; blood taints the life of blood!"

Relaxing but not releasing her grasp of my own hand, she felt about
with her left till Esmo gently placed his own therein. Then, in a tone
at first of deep and passionate anxiety and eagerness, passing into
one of regretful admiration, and varying with the purport of each
utterance, she broke into another chant, in which were repeated over
and again phrases familiar in the traditions and prophetic or symbolic
formularies of the Zinta:—

"Ever on deadliest peril shines the Star with steadiest ray;
Ever quail the fiercest hunters when Kargynda turns at bay.
Close, Children of the Starlight! close, for the Emerald Throne!
Close round the life that closeth your life within the zone!
Rests the Golden Circle's glory, rests the silver gleam on her
Who shall rein Kargynda's fury with a thread of gossamer.
He metes not mortal measure, He pays not human price,
Who crowns that life's devotion with the death of sacrifice!
Woe worth the moment's panic; woe worth the victory won!
But the Night is near the breaking when the Stranger claims his own.

"Ever on deadliest peril shines the Star with steadiest ray;
Ever quail the fiercest hunters when Kargynda turns at bay.
No life is worth the living that counts each fleeting breath;
No eyes from God averted can meet the eyes of Death.
Vague fear and spectral terrors haunt the soul that dwells in shade,
Nor e'er can crimson conscience confront the crimson blade.
From a cloud of shame and sorrow breaks the Light that shines afar,
And cold and dark the household spark that lit the Silver Star.
The triumph is a death-march; the victor's voice a moan:—But
the Powers of Night are broken when the Stranger wins his own!

"Ever in blackest midnight shines the Star with brightest ray;
Woe to them that hunt the theme if Kargynda cross the way!
In the Home of Peace, Clavelta, can our fears thy spirit move?
Look down! whence comes the rescue to the household of thy love?
As the All-Commander's lightning falls the Vengeance from above!
A shriek from thousand voices; a thunder crash; a groan;
A thousand homes in mourning—a thousand deaths in one!
Woe to the Sons of Darkness, for the Stranger wields his own!
Oh, hide that scene of horror in the deepest shades of night!
Look upward to the welkin, where the Vessel fades from sight ...
But the Veil is rent for ever by the Hand that veiled the Shrine;
And, on a peace of ages, the Star of Peace shall shine!"

Esmo listened with the anxious attention of one who believed that her
every word had a real and literal meaning; and his face was
overclouded with a calm but deep sadness, which testified to the
nature of the impression made on his mind by language that hardly
conveyed to my own more than a dim and general prediction of victory,
won through scenes of trial and trouble. But when she had closed, a
quiet satisfaction in what seemed to be the final promise of triumph
to the Star, at whatever cost to the noblest of its adherents, was all
that I could trace in his countenance.

The sibyl fell back as the last word passed her lips, with a sigh of
relief, into what was evidently a profound and insensible sleep. Those
around me must have witnessed such scenes at least as often as I; but
it was plain that the impression made, even on the experienced Chiefs
of the Order, was far deeper than had affected myself. I should hardly
have been able to remember the words of the prophecy, but for
subsequent conversation thereon with Eveena, when one part had been
fulfilled and the rest was on the eve of a too terribly truthful
fulfilment; but for the events that fixed their prediction in my
mind—it may be in terms a little more precise than those actually
employed, though I have endeavoured to record these with conscientious
accuracy.

Led by Esmo, we passed along another gallery into the small chamber
where met the secret Council of the Order, and long and anxious were
the debates wherein the revelations of the dreamer were treated as
conveying the most certain and unquestionable warning. The first rays
of morning were stealing through the mists into the peristyle of our
host's dwelling before I re-entered Eveena's chamber. She was
slumbering, but restlessly, and so lightly that she sprang up at once
on my entrance. For a few moments all other thought was lost in the
delight of my return after an absence whose very length had alarmed
her, despite her father's previous assurance. But as at last she drew
back sufficiently to look into my face, its expression seemed to
startle and sadden her. The questions that sprang to her lips died
there, as she probably saw in my eyes a look not only of weariness and
perplexity, but of profound reluctance to speak of what had passed.
Expressing her sympathy only by look and touch, she began to unclasp
my robe at the throat, aware that my only wish was for rest, and
content to postpone her own anxiety and natural curiosity. Then, as
the golden sash which I had not removed met her sight, she looked up
for a moment with a glance of natural pride and fondness, intensely
gratified by the highly-prized honour paid to her husband; then bent
low and kissed my hand with the gesture wherewith the presence of a
superior is acknowledged by the members of the Order. "Used as my
earlier life was, Eveena, to the Eastern prostrations of my own world,
I hate all that recals them; and if I must accept, as I fulfil, these
forms in the Halls of the Zinta, let me never be reminded of them by
you."

If I could have endured to describe to Eveena the terrible trial
scene, that which occurred before she had the chance to question me
would have certainly sealed my lips. The past night had told upon me
as no fatigue, no anxiety, no disaster of my life on Earth had ever
done. I awoke faint and exhausted as a nervous valetudinarian, and I
suppose my feeling must have been plainly visible in my face, for
Eveena would not allow me to rise from the cushions till she had
summoned an
ambâ
and procured the material of a morning meal, though
the hour was noon. Far too considerate to question me then, she was
perhaps a little disappointed that, almost before I had dressed, a
message from her father summoned me to his presence.

"It is right," he said quietly, and with no show of feeling, though
his face was somewhat pale, "that you should be acquainted with the
fulfilment of the sentence you assisted to pass. The outcast was found
this morning dead in his own chamber. Nay, you need not start! We need
no deathsman; alike by sudden disease, by suicide, by accident, our
doom executes itself. But enough of this. I accepted the vote which
invested you with the second rank in our Order, less because I think
you will render service to it here than that I desired you to possess
that entire knowledge of its powers and secrets which might enable you
to plant a branch or offshoot where none but you could carry it ...
That you will soon leave this world seemed to me probable, before the
anticipations of practical prudence were confirmed by the voice of
prophecy. Your Astronaut shall be stored with all of which I know you
have need, and with any materials whose use I do not know that you may
point out. To remove it from Asnyea would now be too dangerous. If you
receive tidings that shall bring you again into its neighbourhood, do
not lose the opportunity of re-entering it.... And now let me take
leave of you, as of a dear friend I may not meet again."

"Do you know," I said, more touched by the tone than by the words,
"that Eveena asked and I gave a promise that when I do re-enter it she
shall be my companion?"

"I did not know it, but I took for granted that she would desire it,
and I should have been grieved to doubt that you would assent. I
cannot disturb her peace by saying to her what I have just said to
you, and must part from her as on any ordinary occasion."

That parting, happily, I did not witness. Before evening we re-entered
our vessel, and returned home without any incident worthy of mention.

To my surprise, my return plunged me at once into the kind of vexation
which Eveena had so anxiously endeavoured to spare me, and which I had
hoped Eunané's greater decision and less exaggerated tenderness would
have avoided. She seemed excited and almost fretful, and before we had
been half an hour at home had greeted me with a string of complaints
which, on her own showing, seemed frivolous, and argued as much temper
on her part as customary petulance on that of others. On one point,
however, her report confirmed the suggestions of Eveena's previous
experience. She had wrested at once from Eivé's hand the pencil that
had hitherto been used in absolute secrecy, and the consequent quarrel
had been sharp enough to suggest, if not to prove, that the privilege
was of practical as well as sentimental moment. Though aggravated by
no rebuke, my tacit depreciation of her grievances irritated Eunané to
an extreme of petulance unusual with her of late; which I bore so long
as it was directed against myself, but which, turned at last on
Eveena, wholly exhausted my patience. But no sooner had I dismissed
the offender than Eveena herself interposed, with even more than her
usual tenderness for Eunané.