A Voyage to Arcturus Part 47

"Isn't there blood on your soul?" asked Corpang, eying him intently.

The blood rose steadily to Maskull's face, but in that light it caused it to appear black.

"Unfortunately there is, and not a little."

The other's face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment.

"And so you see," went on Maskull, with a short laugh, "I'm in the very best condition for receiving your instruction."

Corpang still paused. "Underneath your crimes I see a man," he said, after a few minutes. "On that account, and because we are commanded to help one another, I won't leave you at present, though I little thought to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your question.... Whatever a man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three ways--length, breadth, depth. Length is existence, breadth is relation, depth is feeling."

"Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who came from Threal."

"I don't know him. What else did he tell you?"

"He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the interruption."

"These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is Faceny's world, relation is Amfuse's world, feeling is Thire's world."

"Can't we come down to hard facts?" said Maskull, frowning. "I understand no more than I did before what you mean by three worlds."

"There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence."

"That I understand."

"The second world is Love--by which I don't mean l.u.s.t. Without love, every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable deliberately to act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy--not even hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect and distorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny's world of Nature, therefore, we have Amfuse's world of Love, or Relation."

"What grounds have you for a.s.suming that this so-called second world is not contained in the first?"

"They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover lives for others."

"It may be so. It's rather mystical. But go on--who is Thire?"

"Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and love without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the need of men to stretch out toward their creator."

"You mean prayer and worship?"

"I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in either the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as depth is the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between Thire and man."

"But what is Thire himself?"

"Thire is the afterworld."

"I still don't understand," said Maskull. "Do you believe in three separate G.o.ds, or are these merely three ways of regarding one G.o.d?"

"There are three G.o.ds, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they are somehow united."

Maskull reflected a while. "How have you arrived at these conclusions?"

"None other are possible in Threal, Maskull."

"Why in Threal--what is there peculiar here?"

"I will show you presently."

They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted.

"That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary," he remarked.

Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance.

"How has this come about--and how did you know it?"

"They were Faceny's organs. They have vanished, just as the phaen's body vanished."

Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. "I feel more human without them. But why isn't the rest of my body affected?"

"Because its living will contains the element of Thire."

"Why are we stopping here?"

Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and proffered it to him. "Eat this, Maskull."

"For food, or something else?"

"Food for body and soul."

Maskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was bleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a change of perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or outline, became several degrees more stern and sacred. When he looked at Corpang he was impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, but the perplexed expression was still in his eyes.

"Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?"

"Occasionally I go above, but not often."

"What fastens you to this gloomy world?"

"The search for Thire."

"Then it's still a search?"

"Let us walk on."

As they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain, the conversation became even more earnest in character than before.

"Although I was not born here," proceeded Corpang, "I've lived here for twenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing nearer to Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it--the first stages are richer in fruit and more promising than the later ones. The longer a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to absent himself. In the beginning he is felt and known, sometimes as a shape, sometimes as a voice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. Later on all is dry, dark, and harsh in the soul. Then you would think that Thire was a million miles off."

"How do you explain that?"

"When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull."