She and Allan

by H. Rider Haggard

  I came to a region of blinding light; the thought rose in me that Imust have reached the sun, or a sun, though I felt no heat. I stood in alovely, shining valley about which burned mountains of fire. There werehuge trees in that valley, but they glowed like gold and their flowersand fruit were as though they had been fashioned of many-colouredflames.

  The place was glorious beyond compare, but very strange to me and notto be described. I sat me down upon a boulder which burned like a ruby,whether with heat or colour I do not know, by the edge of a stream thatflowed with what looked like fire and made a lovely music. I stoopeddown and drank of this water of flames and the scent and the taste of itwere as those of the costliest wine.

  There, beneath the spreading limbs of a fire-tree I sat, and examinedthe strange flowers that grew around, coloured like rich jewels andperfumed above imagining. There were birds also which might have beenfeathered with sapphires, rubies and amethysts, and their song was sosweet that I could have wept to hear it. The scene was wonderfuland filled me with exaltation, for I thought of the land where it ispromised that there shall be no more night.

  People began to appear; men, women, and even children, though whencethey came I could not see. They did not fly and they did not walk; theyseemed to drift towards me, as unguided boats drift upon the tide.One and all they were very beautiful, but their beauty was not humanalthough their shapes and faces resembled those of men and women madeglorious. None were old, and except the children, none seemed veryyoung; it was as though they had grown backwards or forwards to middlelife and rested there at their very best.

  Now came the marvel; all these uncounted people were known to me, thoughso far as my knowledge went I had never set eyes on most of them before.Yet I was aware that in some forgotten life or epoch I had been intimatewith every one of them; also that it was the fact of my presence andthe call of my sub-conscious mind which drew them to this spot. Yetthat presence and that call were not visible or audible to them, who,I suppose, flowed down some stream of sympathy, why or whither they didnot know. Had I been as they were perchance they would have seen me,as it was they saw nothing and I could not speak and tell them of mypresence.

  Some of this multitude, however, I knew well enough even when they haddeparted years and years ago. But about these I noted this, that everyone of them was a man or a woman or a child for whom I had felt love orsympathy or friendship. Not one was a person whom I had disliked or whomI had no wish to see again. If they spoke at all I could not hear--orread--their speech, yet to a certain extent I could hear their thoughts.

  Many of these were beyond the power of my appreciation on subjects whichI had no knowledge, or that were too high for me, but some were of quitesimple things such as concern us upon the earth, such as of friendship,or learning, or journeys made or to be made, or art, or literature, orthe wonders of Nature, or of the fruits of the earth, as they knew themin this region.

  This I noted too, that each separate thought seemed to be hallowed andenclosed in an atmosphere of prayer or heavenly aspiration, as a seed isenclosed in the heart of a flower, or a fruit in its odorous rind, andthat this prayer or aspiration presently appeared to bear the thoughtaway, whither I knew not. Moreover, all these thoughts, even of thehumblest things, were beauteous and spiritual, nothing cruel or impureor even coarse was to be found among them: they radiated charity, purityand goodness.

  Among them I perceived were none that had to do with our earth; this andits affairs seemed to be left far behind these thinkers, a truth thatchilled my soul was alien to their company. Worse still, so far as Icould discover, although I knew that all these bright ones had been nearto me at some hour in the measurements of time and space, not one oftheir musings dwelt upon me or on aught with which I had to do.

  Between me and them there was a great gulf fixed and a high wall built.

  Oh, look! One came shining like a star, and from far away came anotherwith dove-like eyes and beautiful exceedingly, and with this last amaiden, whose eyes were as hers who my own heart told me was her mother.

  Well, I knew them both; they were those whom I had come to seek, thewomen who had been mind upon the earth, and at the sight of them myspirit thrilled. Surely they would discover me. Surely at least theywould speak of me and feel my presence.

  But, although they stayed within a pace or two of where I rested, alas!it was not so. They seemed to kiss and to exchange swift thoughts aboutmany things, high things of which I will not write, and common things;yes, even of the shining robes they wore, but never a one of _me!_ Istrove to rise and go to them, but could not; I strove to speak andcould not; I strove to throw out my thought to them and could not; itfell back upon my head like a stone hurled heavenward.

  They were remote from me, utterly apart. I wept tears of bitterness thatI should be so near and yet so far; a dull and jealous rage burned inmy heart, and this they did seem to feel, or so I fancied; at any rate,apparently by mutual consent, they moved further from me as thoughsomething pained them. Yes, my love could not reach their perfectednatures, but my anger hurt them.

  As I sat chewing this root of bitterness, a man appeared, a very nobleman, in whom I recognised my father grown younger and happier-looking,but still my father, with whom came others, men and women whom I knewto be my brothers and sisters who had died in youth far away inOxfordshire. Joy leapt up in me, for I thought--these will surely knowme and give me welcome, since, though here sex has lost its power, bloodmust still call to blood.

  But it was not so. They spoke, or interchanged their thoughts, but notone of me. I read something that passed from my father to them. It wasa speculation as to what had brought them all together there, and readalso the answer hazarded, that perhaps it might be to give welcome tosome unknown who was drawing near from below and would feel lonely andunfriended. Thereon my father replied that he did not see or feel thiswanderer, and thought that it could not be so, since it was his missionto greet such on their coming.

  Then in an instant all were gone and that lovely, glowing plain wasempty, save for myself seated on the ruby-like stone, weeping tears ofblood and shame and loss within my soul.