The Gloved Hand

by Burton Egbert Stevenson

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE VISION IN THE CRYSTAL

  Silva laid a hand tenderly upon the bowed head, as though inbenediction, but I could have sworn there was unholy triumph in hiseyes. I caught but a glimpse of it, for he veiled them instantly andbowed his head, and his lips moved as if in prayer. The kneelingfigure was quivering with sobs; I could hear them in her throat; andmy heart turned sick as I saw how she permitted his caressing touch.Then, suddenly, she sprang, erect, and, without a glance at me,hurried from the room.

  There was silence for a moment, then Silva arose and faced me.

  "You see how it is, Mr. Lester," he said.

  "Yes," I answered drily, "I see how it is."

  I refolded the will, slipped it back into its envelope, restored it tothe drawer, made sure that all the packets were there, too, replacedthe drawer in the safe, closed the door, twirled the knob, swung theshelves into place in front of it, and finally, my self-controlpartially regained, turned back to Silva.

  "Well," I said, and my voice sounded very flat, "let us sit down andtalk it over."

  He wheeled his chair around to face me and sat down. I looked at himin silence for a moment. The man was virile, dominant; there was inhis aspect something impressive and compelling. Small wonder thischild of nineteen had found herself unable to stand against him!

  "I know what is in your mind," he said, at last. "But, after all, itwas her father's wish. That should weigh with you."

  "Her father was mad."

  "I deny it. He was very sane. He found the Way, and he has set herfeet upon it."

  "What way?" I demanded. "Where does it lead?"

  "The Way of life. It leads to peace and happiness."

  He uttered the words as with finality; but I shrugged them impatientlyaway.

  "Don't float off into your mysticism," I said. "Let us keep our feeton the earth. You may be sincere, or you may not--it is impossible forme to say. But I know this--it is not fair to that child to take herat her word. She doesn't realise what she is doing. I don't know whatit is you plan for her, but before you do anything, she must have achance to find herself. She must be taken out of this atmosphere intoa healthier one, until she has rallied from the shock of her father'sdeath, and emerged from the shadow of his influence. She must havetime to get back her self-control. Then, if she chooses to return,well and good."

  "To all your 'musts,' Mr. Lester," retorted Silva, "I can only saythat I am willing. I have not lifted a finger to detain her. But whatif she will not go?"

  "Then she must be made to go."

  "Another 'must'!" he rejoined lightly. "I would remind you that she ismistress of her own actions. Neither you nor I can compel her to doanything she does not wish to do. It has been a great happiness to methat she has chosen as she has; it would have been a great sorrow tome had she decided differently. But I should have acquiesced. Now itis for you to acquiesce. After all, what claim have you upon her?"

  "I admit that I have no claim," I said, more calmly. "But there is onewho has a claim, and to whom she is bound to listen."

  "You refer, no doubt, to that misguided young man who is now in prison."

  "I refer to Frederic Swain, yes," I retorted hotly. "It is true he isin prison. And how did he get there? By coming when she called him; bytrying to assist her."

  "Was it assisting her to kill her father?" queried Silva, and hislips were curled with scorn.

  I paused a moment to make sure of my self-control, for it seemed to beslipping from me.

  "Senor Silva," I said, at last, "how her father came to his death I donot know; but I do know that Swain had no hand in it."

  "Yet he is in prison," he reminded me.

  "Innocent men have been in prison before this. I will get him out."

  "By what means?"

  "By finding the real murderer!" I said, and looked at him with eyeswhich I know were bloodshot.

  He returned my gaze steadily.

  "So you think I am the murderer?" he asked, quietly.

  I got a grip of myself--I saw that I had gone too far.

  "I do not know what to think," I answered. "I am seeking light. In anyevent, Swain merits some consideration. Miss Vaughan should, at least,listen to what he has to say. She promised to marry him."

  "She has withdrawn that promise."

  "She has never said so."

  "She has withdrawn it in choosing as she has chosen. They who serve inthe temple of Siva turn their backs on marriage."

  I put the words away from me with a gesture.

  "That means nothing to me," I said. "I know nothing of the temple ofSiva. I wish to know nothing, for mysticism repels me. But I do knowthat she gave her word; I do know that she loved him."

  "Earthly love fades and passes," said the yogi, solemnly. "She hasgiven her heart to the Master," and he made his gesture of reverence.

  There was anger in my eyes as I looked at him. How was one to reply tosuch jargon?

  "I would point out to you, Senor Silva," I said, "that Miss Vaughan isnot yet of legal age, and so not quite her own mistress."

  "Does your law interfere in matters of the heart?" he inquiredblandly; "or in matters of religion?"

  "No," I said, flushing at his irony; "but the law demands that, untilshe is of age, she have a guardian to protect her interests. I shallask that one be appointed at once."

  "To that," said the yogi, mildly, "I have not the least objection. Infact, Mr. Lester, I do not know why you should tell me your plans.But, for some reason, you seem to regard me as an adversary. I amnot--I am no man's adversary. I object to nothing; I have no right toobject to anything. I am simply Miss Vaughan's friend andwell-wisher, and seek her happiness. I should like to be your friendalso."

  "And Swain's?" I queried, a little brutally.

  "The friend of all men," said the yogi, simply. "They are all mybrothers. We are children of the same Great Spirit."

  I was silent for a moment. Then I took Swain's letter from my pocket.

  "If you are sincere," I said, "you can easily prove it. I have aletter here from Swain. He gave it to me to-day, and I promised togive it to Miss Vaughan to-night."

  Without a word, he crossed to the bell and rang it. The maid answered.

  "Mr. Lester has a letter which you will give to your mistress," he said.

  "And you will wait for an answer," I added.

  The girl took the letter and went away. Silva sat down again, and whenI glanced at him, I saw that his eyes were closed. Five minutespassed, and the girl appeared again at the door.

  "Miss Vaughan says there is no answer, sir," she said, and let thecurtain fall into place again.

  I made a gesture of despair; I felt that the game was lost.

  "After all, Mr. Lester," said Silva, kindly, "what is this fate thatyou would prepare for her? You seek her marriage with a young man who,when I saw him, appeared to me merely commonplace. Admitting for themoment that he is innocent of this crime, you would neverthelesscondemn her to an existence flat and savourless, differing in noessential from that of the beasts of the field."

  "It is the existence of all normal people," I pointed out, "and theone which they are happiest in."

  "But Miss Vaughan would not be happy. She has too great a soul; thatyoung man is not worthy of her. You yourself have felt it!"

  I could not deny it.

  "Few men are worthy of a good woman," I said lamely.

  "Faugh! Good woman!" and he snapped his fingers. "I abhor the words!They are simply cant! But a great woman, a woman of insight, ofimagination--ah, for such a woman the Way that I prepare is the onlyWay. There she will find joy and inspiration; there she will grow inknowledge; there she will breathe the breath of life! Mr. Lester," andhe leaned forward suddenly, "have you the courage to consult thesphere?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You saw how I spent the White Night of Siva," and he made his gestureof reverence. "Will you gaze for an hour on the crystal?"

  "For what purpose?"

/>   "I do not know what may be revealed to you," he answered. "That is inthe keeping of the Holy One. Perhaps nothing; perhaps much. Will youmake the trial?"

  His eyes were distended with excitement, his lips were trembling witheagerness.

  "I feel that it will not be in vain!" he added.

  There was something compelling in his gaze. After all, why not? Istruggled to my feet.

  With a strange smile, he held back the curtain, and I passed beforehim into the hall and up the stairs. As I hesitated at the top, heopened the door into the entry, and again my senses were assaulted bya heavy, numbing odour. In the middle of the room the crystal sphereglowed softly.

  "Take your place upon the couch," he said; "sit thus, with your legscrossed, and your hands folded before you. But first, listen to me.There is in this no magic; this sphere is merely a shell of crystal,in which a small lamp burns. It serves only to concentrate the mind,to enable it to forget the world and to turn in upon itself. Thevisions which will come to you, if any come, will come from within andnot from without. They will be such visions as the Holy One may will;and by the Holy One I mean that Spirit which pervades the universe,even to its farthest bound; the Spirit which is in all of us alike;the Spirit which is in good men and in bad, men like you and me, andmen like the one who slew my pupil. It is with this Spirit, if theHoly One so wills, that you will commune, so that you will see nolonger with the poor eyes of the body, but with eyes from whichnothing is concealed, either in the past or in the future. Do youunderstand?"

  "I think so," I murmured, unable to take my eyes from the glowing circle.

  "Then to the Holy One I commend thee!" said the yogi, and sat down onthe couch opposite me.

  I felt that his eyes were upon me, but mine were upon the sphere, andin a moment I was no longer aware of him. I was aware only of theglowing circle, which seemed to widen and widen until the wholeuniverse revolved within it. The sun and the moon and the stars werethere, and I gazed at them as from a great distance. I saw stars glowand fade; I saw great nebulae condense to points of light, anddisintegrate to dust; then, slowly, slowly, a single planet swung intoview, a million miles away, at first, but growing clearer and moreclear, until I was looking down upon its seas and continents; andsuddenly, as it turned before me, I recognised the earth. Europe,Asia, the broad Pacific swung below me; then land again--America! Isaw great mountains, broad plains, and mighty rivers.

  The motion ceased. I was gazing down upon a great city, built upon anarrow spur of land between two rivers, a city of towering buildingsand busy streets; then upon a single house, set in the midst of loftyelms; then I was in a room, a room with books against the walls, and adoor opening upon a garden. From the garden the light faded, and thedarkness came, and a clock somewhere struck twelve. Then, suddenly, atthe door appeared two white-robed figures, an old man and a girl. Theman was talking violently, but the girl crossed the room without abackward glance, and passed through a door on its farther side. Theman stood for a moment looking after her, then flung himself into achair, and put his hands before his face.

  With creeping flesh, I looked again at the outer door, waiting whowould enter. And slowly, slowly, the drapery was put aside, and a facepeered in. I could see its flashing eyes and working mouth. A hand, inwhich a knife gleamed, was raised cautiously to the cord, and when itwas lowered, it held a piece of the cord within its grasp. I could seethe eager fingers fashioning a knot; then, with head bent, the figurecrept forward, foot by foot; it was at the chair-back, and even asthe old man, conscious at last of the intruder, raised his head, thecord was cast about his throat and drawn tight. There was a moment'sstruggle, and I saw that the hand which held the cord was red withblood. From the wrist, a stained handkerchief fell softly to thefloor.

  And then the assassin turned to steal away; but as he went, he castone awful glance over his shoulder. The light fell full upon hisface--and I saw that it was Swain's!

  * * * * *

  I opened my eyes to find myself extended full length on the divan,with Silva standing over me, a tiny glass of yellow liquid in hishand.

  "Drink this," he said, and I swallowed it obediently.

  It had a pungent, unpleasant taste, but I could feel it runningthrough my veins, and it cleared my mind and steadied my nerves asthough by magic. I sat up and looked at the crystal. The other lightsin the room had been switched on, and the sphere lay cold andlifeless. I passed my hand before my eyes, and looked at it again;then my eyes sought Silva's. He was smiling softly.

  "The visions came," he said. "Your eyes tell me that the visions came.Is it not so?"

  "Yes," I answered; "strange visions, Senor Silva. I wish I knew theirorigin."

  "Their origin is in the Universal Spirit," he said, quietly. "Even yetyou do not believe."

  "No," and I looked again at the crystal. "There are some things pastbelief."

  "Nothing is past belief," he said, still more quietly, "You think sobecause your mind is wrapped in the conventions amid which you exist.Free it from those wrappings, and you will begin really to live. Youhave never known what life is."

  "How am I to free it, Senor Silva?" I questioned.

  He took a step nearer to me.

  "By becoming a disciple of the Holy One," he said, most earnestly.

  But I was myself again, and I rose to my feet and shook my head, witha smile.

  "No," I said. "You will get no convert here. I must be going."

  "I will open the gate for you," he said, in another tone, and led theway down the stairs, through the library, and out upon the gravelled walk.

  After the drugged atmosphere of his room, the pure night air was likea refreshing bath, and I drew in long breaths of it. Silva walkedbeside me silently; he unlocked the gate with a key which he carriedin his hand, and pulled it open.

  "Good-night, Mr. Lester," he said. "The sphere is at your serviceshould you desire again to test it. Think over what I have said to you."

  "Good-night," I answered, and stepped through into the road.

  The gate swung shut and the key grated in the lock. Mechanically Iturned my steps toward Godfrey's house; but I seemed to be bendingunder a great burden--the burden of the vision.