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change the face of the social world？ The last secrets are
intrusted only to him of whose virtue the Master is convinced。
Patience！ It is labour itself that is the great purifier of the
mind； and by degrees the secrets will grow upon thyself as thy
mind becomes riper to receive them。〃
At last Mejnour professed himself satisfied with the progress
made by his pupil。 〃The hour now arrives；〃 he said； 〃when thou
mayst pass the great but airy barrier；when thou mayst gradually
confront the terrible Dweller of the Threshold。 Continue thy
labourscontinue to surpass thine impatience for results until
thou canst fathom the causes。 I leave thee for one month； if at
the end of that period； when I return； the tasks set thee are
completed； and thy mind prepared by contemplation and austere
thought for the ordeal； I promise thee the ordeal shall commence。
One caution alone I give thee： regard it as a peremptory
command； enter not this chamber！〃 （They were then standing in
the room where their experiments had been chiefly made； and in
which Glyndon； on the night he had sought the solitude of the
mystic； had nearly fallen a victim to his intrusion。）
〃Enter not this chamber till my return； or； above all； if by any
search for materials necessary to thy toils thou shouldst venture
hither； forbear to light the naphtha in those vessels； and to
open the vases on yonder shelves。 I leave the key of the room in
thy keeping； in order to try thy abstinence and self…control。
Young man； this very temptation is a part of thy trial。〃
With that； Mejnour placed the key in his hands； and at sunset he
left the castle。
For several days Glyndon continued immersed in employments which
strained to the utmost all the faculties of his intellect。 Even
the most partial success depended so entirely on the abstraction
of the mind； and the minuteness of its calculations； that there
was scarcely room for any other thought than those absorbed in
the occupation。 And doubtless this perpetual strain of the
faculties was the object of Mejnour in works that did not seem
exactly pertinent to the purposes in view。 As the study of the
elementary mathematics； for example； is not so profitable in the
solving of problems； useless in our after…callings； as it is
serviceable in training the intellect to the comprehension and
analysis of general truths。
But in less than half the time which Mejnour had stated for the
duration of his absence； all that the mystic had appointed to his
toils was completed by the pupil； and then his mind； thus
relieved from the drudgery and mechanism of employment； once more
sought occupation in dim conjecture and restless fancies。 His
inquisitive and rash nature grew excited by the prohibition of
Mejnour； and he found himself gazing too often； with perturbed
and daring curiosity； upon the key of the forbidden chamber。 He
began to feel indignant at a trial of constancy which he deemed
frivolous and puerile。 What nursery tales of Bluebeard and his
closet were revived to daunt and terrify him！ How could the mere
walls of a chamber； in which he had so often securely pursued his
labours； start into living danger？ If haunted； it could be but
by those delusions which Mejnour had taught him to despise；a
shadowy lion；a chemical phantasm！ Tush！ he lost half his awe
of Mejnour； when he thought that by such tricks the sage could
practise upon the very intellect he had awakened and instructed！
Still he resisted the impulses of his curiosity and his pride；
and； to escape from their dictation； he took long rambles on the
hills； or amidst the valleys that surrounded the castle；seeking
by bodily fatigue to subdue the unreposing mind。 One day
suddenly emerging from a dark ravine； he came upon one of those
Italian scenes of rural festivity and mirth in which the classic
age appears to revive。 It was a festival； partly agricultural；
partly religious； held yearly by the peasants of that district。
Assembled at the outskirts of a village； animated crowds； just
returned from a procession to a neighbouring chapel； were now
forming themselves into groups： the old to taste the vintage；
the young to dance；all to be gay and happy。 This sudden
picture of easy joy and careless ignorance； contrasting so
forcibly with the intense studies and that parching desire for
wisdom which had so long made up his own life； and burned at his
own heart； sensibly affected Glyndon。 As he stood aloof and
gazing on them； the young man felt once more that he was young。
The memory of all he had been content to sacrifice spoke to him
like the sharp voice of remorse。 The flitting forms of the women
in their picturesque attire； their happy laughter ringing through
the cool； still air of the autumn noon； brought back to the
heart； or rather perhaps to the senses； the images of his past
time； the 〃golden shepherd hours；〃 when to live was but to enjoy。
He approached nearer and nearer to the scene； and suddenly a
noisy group swept round him； and Maestro Paolo； tapping him
familiarly on the shoulder； exclaimed in a hearty voice；
〃Welcome； Excellency！we are rejoiced to see you amongst us。〃
Glyndon was about to reply to this salutation； when his eyes
rested upon the face of a young girl leaning on Paolo's arm； of a
beauty so attractive that his colour rose and his heart beat as
he encountered her gaze。 Her eyes sparkled with a roguish and
petulant mirth； her parted lips showed teeth like pearls； as if
impatient at the pause of her companion from the revel of the
rest； her little foot beat the ground to a measure that she
half…hummed； half…chanted。 Paolo laughed as he saw the effect
the girl had produced upon the young foreigner。
〃Will you not dance； Excellency？ Come； lay aside your greatness；
and be merry； like us poor devils。 See how our pretty Fillide is
longing for a partner。 Take compassion on her。〃
Fillide pouted at this speech； and； disengaging her arm from
Paolo's； turned away； but threw over her shoulder a glance half
inviting； half defying。 Glyndon； almost involuntarily； advanced
to her； and addressed her。
Oh； yes； he addresses her！ She looks down； and smiles。 Paolo
leaves them to themselves； sauntering off with a devil…me…carish
air。 Fillide speaks now； and looks up at the scholar's face with
arch invitation。 He shakes his head； Fillide laughs； and her
laugh is silvery。 She points to a gay mountaineer； who is
tripping up to her merrily。 Why does Glyndon feel jealous？ Why；
when she speaks again； does he shake his head no more？ He offers
his hand； Fillide blushes； and takes it with a demure coquetry。
What！ is it so； indeed！ They whirl into the noisy circle of the
revellers。 Ha！ ha！ is not this better than distilling herbs； and
breaking thy brains on Pythagorean numbers？ How lightly Fillide
bounds along！ How her lithesome waist supples itself to thy
circling arm！ Tara…ra…tara； ta…tara； rara…ra！ What the devil is