按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃Your way lies there；〃 she pointed to the high mountains。 〃And mine to the plains； and if we chose our own we should wander。 But we shall meet again in the way and time that will be best and with knowledge so enlarged that what we have seen already will be like an empty dream compared to daylight truth。 If you knew what waits for you you would not delay one moment。〃
She stood radiant beneath the deodars； a figure of Hope； pointing steadily to the heights。 I knew her words were true though as yet I could not tell how。 I knew that whereas we had seen the Wonderful in beautiful though local forms there is a plane where the Formless may be apprehended in clear dream and solemn vision…the meeting of spirit with Spirit。 What that revelation would mean I could not guess … how should I？ … but I knew the illusion we call death and decay would wither before it。 There is a music above and beyond the Ninth Vibration though I must love those words for ever for what their hidden meaning gave me。
I took her hand and held it。 Strange … beyond all strangeness that that story of an ancient sorrow should have made us what we were to each other … should have opened to me the gates of that Country where she wandered content。 For the first time I had realized in its fulness the loveliness of this crystal nature； clear as flowing water to receive and transmit the light … itself a prophecy and fulfilment of some higher race which will one day inhabit our world when it has learnt the true values。 She drew a flower from her breast and gave it to me。 It lies before me white and living as I write these words。
I sprang down the road and mounted； giving the word to march。 The men shouted and strode on … our faces to the Shipki Pass and what lay beyond。
We had parted。
Once； twice； I looked back； and standing in full sunlight； she waved her hand。
We turned the angle of the rocks。
What I found … what she found is a story strange and beautiful which I may tell one day to those who care to hear。 That for me there were pauses； hesitancies； dreads； on the way I am not concerned to deny； for so it must always be with the roots of the old beliefs of fear and ignorance buried in the soil of our hearts and ready to throw out their poisonous fibres。 But there was never doubt。 For myself I have long forgotten the meaning of that word in anything that is of real value。
Do not let it be thought that the treasure is reserved for the few or those of special gifts。 And it is as free to the West as to the East though I own it lies nearer to the surface in the Orient where the spiritual genius of the people makes it possible and the greater and more faithful teachers are found。 It is not without meaning that all the faiths of the world have dawned in those sunrise skies。 Yet it is within reach of all and asks only recognition； for the universe has been the mine of its jewels…
〃Median gold it holds； and silver from Atropatene； Ruby and emerald from Hindustan； and Bactrian agate； Bright with beryl and pearl； sardonyx and sapphire。〃…
…and more that cannot be uttered … the Lights and Perfections。
So for all seekers I pray this prayer … beautiful in its sonorous Latin； but noble in all the tongues；
〃Supplico tibi； Pater et Dux … I pray Thee； Guide of our vision； that we may remember the nobleness with which Thou hast endowed us； and that Thou wouldest be always on our right and on our left in the motion of our wills； that we may be purged from the contagion of the body and the affections of the brute and overcome and rule them。 And I pray also that Thou wouldest drive away the blinding darkness from the eyes of our souls that we may know well what is to be held for divine and what for mortal。〃
〃The nobleness with which Thou hast endowed us…〃 this； and not the cry of the miserable sinner whose very repentance is no virtue but the consequence of failure and weakness is the strong music to which we must march。
And the way is open to the mountains。
THE INTERPRETER A ROMANCE OF THE EAST
I
There are strange things in this story； but； so far as I understand them； I tell the truth。 If you measure the East with a Western foot…rule you will say； 〃Impossible。〃 I should have said it myself。
Of myself I will say as little as I can； for this story is of Vanna Loring。 I am an incident only； though I did not know that at first。
My name is Stephen Clifden； and I was eight…and…thirty； plenty of money； sound in wind and limb。 I had been by way of being a writer before the war； the hobby of a rich man； but if I picked up anything in the welter in France； it was that real work is the only salvation this mad world has to offer； so I meant to begin at the beginning； and learn my trade like a journeyman labourer。 I had come to the right place。 A very wonderful city is Peshawar … rather let us say； two cities … the compounds； the fortifications where Europeans dwell in such peace as their strong right arms can secure them； and the native city and bazaar humming and buzzing like a hive of angry bees with the rumours that come up from Lower India or down the Khyber Pass with the camel caravans loaded with merchandise from Afghanistan； Bokhara； and farther。 And it is because of this that Peshawar is the Key of India； and a city of Romance that stands at every corner； and cries aloud in the market … place。 For at Peshawar every able…bodied man sleeps with his revolver under his pillow； and the old Fort is always ready in case it should be necessary at brief and sharp notice to hurry the women and children into it； and possibly； to die in their defense。 So enlivening is the neighbourhood of the frontier tribes that haunt the famous Khyber Pass and the menacing hills where danger is always lurking。
But there was society here； and I was swept into it … there was chatter； and it galled me。
I was beginning to feel that I had missed my mark； and must go farther afield； perhaps up into Central Asia； when I met Vanna Loring。 If I say that her hair was soft and dark； that she had the deepest hazel eyes I have ever seen； and a sensitive； tender mouth； that she moved with a flowing grace like 〃a wave of the sea … it sounds like the portrait of a beauty； and she was never that。 Also； incidentally； it gives none of her charm。 I never heard any one get any further than that she was 〃oddly attractive〃 … let us leave it at that。 She was certainly attractive to me。
She was the governess of little Winifred Meryon； whose father held the august position of General Commanding the Frontier Forces； and her mother the more commanding position of the reigning beauty of Northern India； generally speaking。 No one disputed that。 She was as pretty as a picture； and her charming photograph had graced as many illustrated papers as there were illustrated papers to grace。
But Vanna … I gleaned her story by bits when I came across her with the child in the gardens。 I was beginning to piece it together now。
Her love of the strange and beautiful she had inherited from a young Italian mother； daughter of a political refugee； her childhood had been spent in a remote little village in the West of England； half reluctantly she told me how she had brought herself up after