“Hulloa, old fellow!” he exclaimed, “are you there? This is interesting, is it not?”
Just then, with a terrific howl, Job arrived right on the top of us, knocking us both down. By the time that we had struggled to our feet again Ayesha was standing among us, bidding us light the lamps, which fortunately remained uninjured, and with them the spare jar of oil.
I found my box of wax matches, and they struck as merrily there, in that awful place, as they could have done in a London drawing-room.
In another minute both lamps were alight, and they revealed a curious scene. We were huddled together in a rocky chamber, some ten feet square, and very scared we looked; that is, with the exception of Ayesha, who stood calmly, her arms folded, waiting for the lamps to burn up. This chamber appeared to be partly natural and partly hollowed out of the top of the crater. The roof of the natural part was formed by the swinging stone, and that over the back of the chamber, which sloped downwards, was hewn from the live rock. For the rest, the place was warm and dry—a perfect haven of rest compared to the giddy pinnacle above, and the quivering spur that shot out to meet it in mid air.
“So!” said She, “safely have we come, though once I feared that the rocking stone would fall with you, and hurl you into the bottomless deeps beneath, for I do believe that yonder cleft goes down to the very womb of the world, and the rock whereon the boulder rests has crumbled beneath its swinging weight. But now that he,” nodding towards Job, who was seated on the floor, feebly wiping his forehead with a red cotton pocket-handkerchief, “whom they rightly call the ‘Pig,’ for as a pig is he stupid, hath let fall the plank, it will not be easy to return across the gulf, and to that end I must make some plan. Rest you a while, and look upon this place. What think ye that it is?”
“We cannot say,” I answered.
“Wouldst thou believe, O Holly, that once a man did choose this airy nest for a daily habitation, and here he dwelt for many years, leaving it but one day in every twelve to seek food and water and oil that the people brought, more than he could carry, and laid as an offering in the mouth of that tunnel through which we passed hither?”
I looked at her in question, and she continued—
“Yet so it was. There was a man—Noot, he named himself—who, though he lived in the latter days, had of the wisdom of the sons of Kôr. A hermit, and a philosopher, greatly skilled in the secrets of Nature, he it was who discovered the Fire that I shall show you, which is Nature’s blood and life, and that the man who bathes therein and breathes thereof shall live while Nature lives. But like unto thee, O Holly, this Noot would not turn his knowledge to account. ‘Ill,’ he said, ‘was it for man to live, for man is born to die.’ Therefore he told his secret to none, and therefore did he abide here, where the seeker after Life must pass, and was revered of the Amahagger of that day as holy, and a hermit.
“Now, when first I came to this country—knowest thou how I came, Kallikrates? Another time I will tell thee; it is a strange tale—I heard of this philosopher, and waited for him when he sought his food yonder, and returned with him here, though I greatly feared to tread the gulf. Then did I beguile him with my beauty and my wit, and flatter him with my tongue, so that he led me down to the home of the Fire, and told me the secrets of the Fire; but he would not suffer me to step therein, and, fearing lest he should slay me, I refrained, knowing that the man was very old, and soon would die. So I returned, having learned from him all that he knew of the wonderful Spirit of the World, and that was much, for this man was wise and very ancient, and by purity and abstinence, and the contemplations of his innocent mind, had worn thin the veil between that which we see and those great invisible truths, the whisper of whose wings we hear at times as they sweep through the gross air of the world. Then—it was but a very few days after, I met thee, my Kallikrates, who hadst wandered hither with the beautiful Egyptian Amenartas, and I learned to love for the first and last time, once and for ever, so that it entered into my mind to come hither with thee, and receive the gift of Life for thee and me. Therefore came we, with that Egyptian who would not be left behind, and, behold! we found the old man Noot lying but newly dead. There he lay, and his white beard covered him like a garment,” and she pointed to a spot near to which I was sitting; “but surely he has long since crumbled away, and the wind hath borne his ashes hence.”
Here I put out my hand and felt in the dust, till presently my fingers touched something. It was a human tooth, very yellow, but sound. I held it up and showed it to Ayesha, who laughed.
“Yes,” she said, “it is his without a doubt. Behold what remains of Noot and the wisdom of Noot—one little tooth! Yet that man had all life at his command, but for his conscience’ sake he would have none of it. Well, he lay there newly dead, and we descended whither I shall lead you, and then, gathering up all my courage, and courting death that I might perchance win so glorious a crown of life, I stepped into the flames, and behold! Life such as ye can never know until ye feel it also flowed into me, and I came forth undying, and lovely beyond imagining. And I stretched out mine arms to thee, Kallikrates, bidding thee take thine own immortal bride, and behold! blinded by my naked beauty, thou didst turn from me, to hide thine eyes upon the breast of Amenartas. Then a great fury filled me, making me mad, and I seized the javelin that thou didst bear, and stabbed thee, so that, at my feet, in the very place of Life, thou didst groan and go down into death. I knew not then that I had strength to slay with mine eyes and by the power of my will, therefore in my madness I slew with the javelin.* “And when thou wast dead, ah! I wept, because I was undying and thou wast dead. I wept there in the place of Life so that had I been mortal any more my heart had surely broken. And she, the swart Egyptian—she cursed me by her gods. By Osiris did she curse me and by Isis, by Nephthys and by Anubis, by Sekhet, the cat-headed, and by Set, calling down evil on me, evil and everlasting desolation. Ah! I can see her dark face now lowering o’er me like a storm, but she could not harm me, and I—I know not if I could harm her. I did not try; it was naught to me then; so together we bore thee hence. Afterwards I sent her—the Egyptian—away through the swamps, and it seems that she lived to bear a son and to write the tale that should lead thee, her husband, back to me, her rival and thy murderess.
“Such is the tale, my love, and now the hour is at hand that shall set a crown upon it. Like all things on the earth, it is compounded of evil and of good—more of evil than of good, perchance; and writ in a scroll of blood. It is the truth; I have hidden nothing from thee, Kallikrates. And now, one thing before the moment of thy trial. We go down into the presence of Death, for Life and Death are very near together, and—who knoweth—that might happen which shall separate us for another space of waiting? I am but a woman, and no prophetess, and I cannot read the future. But this I know—for I learned it from the lips of the wise man Noot—that my life is but prolonged and made more bright. It cannot endure for aye. Therefore, ere we go, tell me, O Kallikrates, that of a truth thou dost forgive me, and dost love me from thy heart. See, Kallikrates: much evil have I done—perchance it was evil but two nights since to strike that girl who loved thee cold in death, but she disobeyed me and angered me, prophesying misfortune to me, and I smote. Be careful when power comes to thee also, lest thou too shouldst smite in thine anger or thy jealousy, for unconquerable strength is a sore weapon in the hands of erring man. Yea, I have sinned—out of the bitterness born of a great love have I sinned—yet do I know the good from the evil, nor is my heart altogether hardened. Thy love, Kallikrates, shall be the gate of my redemption, even as aforetime my passion was the path down which I ran to ill. For deep love unsatisfied is the hell of noble hearts and a portion for the accursed, but love that is mirrored back more perfect from the soul of our desired doth fashion wings to lift us above ourselves, and make us what we might be. Therefore, Kallikrates, take me by the hand, and lift my veil with no more fear than though I were some peasant girl, and not the wisest and most beauteous woman in this wide world, and look me i
n the eyes, and tell me that thou dost forgive me with all thine heart, and that with all thine heart thou dost worship me.”
She paused, and the infinite tenderness in her voice seemed to hover round us like some memory of the dead. I know that it moved me more even than her words, it was so very human—so very womanly. Leo, too, was strangely touched. Hitherto he had been fascinated against his better judgment, somewhat as a bird is fascinated by a snake, but now I think that all this passed away, and he knew that he really loved this strange and glorious creature, as, alas! I loved her also. At any rate, I saw his eyes fill with tears as, stepping swiftly to her, he undid the gauzy veil, and taking her by the hand, gazed into her sweet face, saying—
25.1 She paused, and the infinite tenderness in her voice seemed to hover round us like some memory of the dead.
“Ayesha, I love thee with all my heart, and so far as forgiveness is possible I forgive thee the death of Ustane. For the rest, it is between thee and thy Maker; I know nothing of it. I know only that I love thee as I never loved before, and that, be it near or far, I will cleave to thee to the end.”
“Now,” answered Ayesha, with proud humility—“now, when my lord doth speak thus royally pardoning with so rich a hand, it becomes me not to lag behind in gifts, and thus be beggared of my generosity. Behold!” and she took his hand and, placing it upon her shapely head, she bent herself slowly down till one knee for an instant touched the ground—“Behold! in token of submission do I bow me to my lord! Behold!” and she kissed him on the lips, “in token of my wifely love do I kiss my lord. Behold!” and she laid her hand upon his heart, “by the sin I sinned, by my lonely centuries of waiting wherewith it was wiped out, by the great love with which I love, and by the Spirit—the Eternal Thing that doth beget all life, from Whom it ebbs, to Whom it must return again—I swear:—
“I swear, even in this first most holy hour of completed Womanhood, that I will cherish Good and abandon Evil. I swear that I will be ever guided by thy voice in the straightest path of duty. I swear that I will eschew Ambition, and through all my length of endless days set Wisdom over me as a ruling star to lead me unto Truth and a knowledge of the Right. I swear also that I will honour and will cherish thee, Kallikrates, who hast been swept by the wave of time back into my arms, ay, till my day of doom, come it soon or late. I swear—nay, I will swear no more, for what are words? Yet shalt thou learn that Ayesha hath no false tongue.
“So I have sworn, and thou, my Holly, art witness to the oath. Here, too, are we wed, my husband, with the gloom for bridal canopy—wed till the end of all things; here do we write our marriage vows upon the rushing winds, which shall bear them up to heaven, and round and continually round this rolling world.
“And for a bridal gift I crown thee with my beauty’s starry crown, and enduring life, and wisdom without measure, and wealth that none can count. Behold! the great ones of the earth shall creep about thy feet, and its fair women shall cover up their eyes because of the shining glory of thy countenance, and its wise ones shall be abased before thee. Thou shalt read the hearts of men as an open writing, and hither and thither shalt thou lead them as thy pleasure listeth. Like that old Sphinx of Egypt thou shalt sit aloft from age to age, and ever shall they cry to thee to solve the riddle of thy greatness, that doth not pass away, and ever shalt thou mock them with thy silence!
“Behold! once more I kiss thee, and with that kiss I give to thee dominion over sea and earth, over the peasant in his hovel, over the monarch in his palace halls, and cities crowned with towers, and all who breathe therein. Where’er the sun shakes out his spears, and the lonesome waters mirror up the moon, where’er storms roll, and Heaven’s painted bows arch in the sky—from the pure North clad in snows, across the middle spaces of the world, to where the amorous South, lying like a bride upon her blue couch of seas, breathes in sighs made sweet with the odour of myrtles—there shall thy power pass and thy dominion find a home. Nor sickness, nor icy-fingered fear, nor sorrow, and pale waste of flesh and mind hovering ever o’er humanity, shall so much as shadow thee with the shadow of their wings. As a God shalt thou be, holding good and evil in the hollow of thy hand, and I, even I, humble myself before thee. Such is the power of Love, and such is the bridal gift I give unto thee, Kallikrates, my Lord and Lord of All.
“And now it is done; now for thee I loose my virgin zone; and come storm, come shine, come good, come ill, come life, come death, it never, never can be undone. For, of a truth, that which is, is, and, being done, is done for aye, and cannot be changed. I have said—Let us hence, that all things may be accomplished in their order;” and, taking one of the lamps, she advanced towards the end of the chamber that was roofed in by the swaying stone, where she halted.
We followed her, and perceived that in the wall of the cone there was a stair, or, to be more accurate, that some projecting knobs of rock had been so shaped as to form a good imitation of a stair. Down these Ayesha began to climb, springing from step to step like a chamois, and after her we followed with less grace. When we had descended some fifteen or sixteen steps we found that they ended in a long rocky slope, shaped like an inverted cone or funnel.
This slope was very steep and often precipitous, but it was nowhere impassable, and by the light of the lamps we climbed down it with no great difficulty, though it was gloomy work enough travelling on thus, none of us knew whither, into the dead heart of a volcano. As we went, however, I took the precaution of noting our route as well as I could; and this was not so very difficult, owing to the extraordinary and most fantastic shapes of the rocks that were strewn about, many of which in that dim light looked more like the grim faces carven upon mediæval gargoyles than ordinary boulders.
For a considerable time we travelled on thus, half an hour I should say, till, after we had descended many hundreds of feet, I perceived that we had reached the point of the inverted cone, where, at the very apex of the funnel, we found a passage, so low and narrow that we were forced to stoop as we crept along it. After some fifty yards of this creeping the passage suddenly widened into a cave, so huge that we could see neither the roof nor the sides. Indeed, we only knew that it was a cave by the echo of our tread and the perfect quiet of the heavy air. On we went for many minutes in absolute awed silence, like lost souls in the depths of Hades, Ayesha’s white and ghost-like form flitting in front of us, till once more the place ended in a passage which opened into a second cavern much smaller than the first. We could clearly distinguish the arch and stony banks of this second cave, and, from their rent and jagged appearance, we judged that it had been torn in the bowels of the rock by the terrific force of some explosive gas, like that first long passage through the cliff down which we had passed before we reached the quivering spur. At length this cave ended in a third tunnel, where gleamed a faint glow of light.
I heard Ayesha utter a sigh of relief as this light dawned upon us, which flowed we knew not whence.
“It is well,” she said; “prepare to enter the very womb of the Earth, wherein she doth conceive the Life that ye see brought forth in man and beast—ay, in every tree and flower. Prepare, O Men, for here ye shall be born anew!”
Swiftly she sped along, and after her we stumbled as best we might, our hearts filled like a cup with mingled dread and curiosity. What were we about to see? We passed down the tunnel; stronger and stronger grew the glow, reaching us now in great flashes like rays from a lighthouse, as one by one they are thrown wide upon the darkness of the waters. Nor was this all, for with the flashes came a soul-shaking sound like that of thunder and of crashing trees. Now we were through the passage, and—oh heavens!
We stood in a third cavern, some fifty feet in length by perhaps as great a height, and thirty wide. It was carpeted with fine white sand, and its walls had been worn smooth by the action of fire or water. This cavern was not dark like the others—it was filled with a soft glow of rose-coloured light, more beautiful to look on than anything that can be conceived. But at first we saw no f
lashes, and heard no more of the thunderous sound. Presently, however, as we stood in amaze, gazing at the marvellous sight, and wondering whence the rosy radiance flowed, a dread and beautiful thing happened. Across the far end of the cavern, with a grinding and crashing noise—a noise so dreadful and awe-inspiring that we all trembled, and Job actually sank to his knees—there flamed out an awful cloud or pillar of fire, like a rainbow many-coloured, and like the lightning bright. For a space, perhaps forty seconds, it flamed and roared thus, turning slowly round and round; then by degrees the terrible noise ceased, and with the fire it passed away—I know not where—leaving behind it the same rosy glow that we had first seen.
“Draw near, draw near!” cried Ayesha, with a voice of thrilling exultation. “Behold the Fountain and the Heart of Life as it beats in the bosom of this great world. Behold the Substance from which all things draw their energy, the bright Spirit of this Globe, without which it cannot live, but must grow cold and dead as the dead moon. Draw near, and wash you in those living flames, and take their virtue into your poor bodies in all its virgin strength—not as now it feebly glows within your bosoms, filtered thereto through the fine strainers of a thousand intermediate lives, but as it is here in the very fount and source of earthly Being.”
We followed her through the rosy glow up to the head of the cave, till we stood before the spot where the great pulse beat and the great flame passed. And as we went we became sensible of a wild and splendid exhilaration, of the glorious sense of such a fierce intensity of Life that beside it the most buoyant moments of our strength seemed flat and tame and feeble. It was the mere effluvium of the fire, the subtle ether that it cast off as it rolled, entering into us, and making us strong as giants and swift as eagles.
We reached the head of the cave, and gazed at each other in the glorious glow, laughing aloud in the lightness of our hearts and the divine intoxication of our brains—even Job laughed, who had not smiled for a week. I know that I felt as though the mantle of all the genius whereof the human intellect is capable had descended upon me. I could have spoken in blank verse of Shakesperian beauty; inspired visions flashed through my mind; it was as though the bonds of my flesh had been loosened, and had left the spirit free to soar to the empyrean of its unguessed powers. The sensations that poured in upon me are indescribable. I seemed to live more keenly, to reach to a higher joy, to sip the goblet of a subtler thought than ever it had been my lot to taste before. I was another and most glorified self, and all the avenues of the Possible were for a while laid open to my mortal footsteps.
She: A History of Adventure Page 30