The Dreamer Of Dreams Part 14

As he did so, the shadowy figures one and all turned his way and fell down on their faces in postures of sudden adoration; from over their heads a whispering wind waved towards him, a wind that was full of sighs and hushed voices, like a far-off crowd always crying the same thing.

Eric started back abashed, quite at a loss to know what he should do; then to his utmost astonishment he saw how the foremost spirit arose, and, giving him a last look of grat.i.tude, without the slightest warning quietly walked into that uncanny water and disappeared beneath the surface! Following his example all the others did the same! It was but a flash!

Eric threw himself with an exclamation towards the edge, but it was too late! Every trace of them was gone, nothing remained but large circles on the face of the water. Eric looked down into the darkness, and there he saw something rising slowly to the top....

It was the miraculous bubbles. One by one they appeared slowly like some fairy procession; and when they reached the light of day they grew in size, hovered a moment over the dark element, then rose light and joyful into the sky, and as they mounted their colours changed in infinite variety, transparent globes of exquisite beauty.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _It was the miraculous bubbles._]

Close over the water they were green and blue; in rising their hues turned into violet and purple, that gently graduated through every tone of gold and yellow till they were one blaze of flame that quite imperceptibly faded away into the blue of the sky, where they hung suspended, hardly discernible, till at last they were one with the infinite; and that was so high, so high overhead, that it might have been at the very gates of heaven!

Then Eric understood.... These were the lost souls he had freed; all had found rest at last; all had been able to detach themselves from this weary world always higher into the sky.

Had it really been given to him to be their salvation? Had they found eternal peace and joy because he had not fallen on the way? Then indeed no sacrifice had been too great, no trial, no fatigue too vast. And in sign of grat.i.tude they had displayed before his wondering eye the most divine colours he had ever seen, filling his artist soul with the deep joy of beauty for which he never could be thankful enough.

He turned again to look at the pool, and as he did so there on the opposite bank he saw an apparition which made his heart stand still.

A very old man, tall and gaunt, wrapped in grey flowing folds, a thin cloak suspended from his shoulders, a weather-beaten hat shading his face, his long beard falling far down on his breast.

In his hands he clasped a thick stick on which he leaned. With a cry of joy Eric stretched out his hands towards that shadowy figure, for was it not his old and venerated friend the hermit!

The grey vision turned, and with hollow eyes looked at him long and earnestly, with such a wonderful expression of loving affection that it made tears gather in the boy's eyes.

But his beloved old master was also transparent and ghostly like the lost souls that had at last found peace.

Was this his spirit that had left his earthly body? Would G.o.d in His mercy grant the beautiful miracle that through his courage and persistence he should also have brought rest and redemption to this weary sinner whose precious words he could never forget?

His whole soul yearned to hear the dear tired voice once more, to drink anew from that source of wisdom which had so refreshed his spirit. Yet he had the cruel apprehension that this joy could be his no more.

"O Father, I want to hear thee speak," he cried, but no answer came from the other side of the dark water.

The old man only continued to stare.

Then an awful despair gripped at Eric's heart, for he felt as if he had lost his dearest treasure.

Why was life so cruelly full of lights and shades? Why was the full cup always dashed from the lips?

"Father, father," he cried, "I do so long for the sound of thy voice; speak, oh, speak, I beseech thee," but there was no response; only silence deep and absolute, and a second later a faint echo of his own words whispering round the granite boulders.

Then something very wonderful was revealed to his sight; there beside the old man stood a shining translucid woman, a woman whose face he could but faintly discern.

Her head was bent back and her two uplifted arms shone like rays of light, pointing to the sky.

Her long robe flowed down, a trailing mist, into the quiet water, where it hung like a cloud. And this filmy vapour wrapped itself round the feet of the man, and as it slowly mounted towards his heart a marvellous change came over the aged hermit; his astounded pupil saw how very gradually all the years rolled from him, how his bent figure became upright, and for a short moment the vision of a manly face full of strength and beauty flashed before his eyes, and then ... everything was gone! A gust of wind swept the whole miracle into the dark lake, where a cloud of smoke alone remained.

The smoke hovered for a second, blue grey over the face of the deep; and then out of the very centre shot a quivering flame, intense and dazzling, that mounted slowly like a tongue of fire, always higher and higher, till it was lost from sight!

XIX

My eager hands press emptiness to my heart, and it bruises my breast.

TAGORE.

Feeling weak and completely overcome by so many conflicting emotions, Eric now began slowly to descend from the mighty height, with an intense and overpowering desire for rest and food.

He was entirely spent, knowing that he could not go much farther unless he found help in his need. This side of the mountain was much less steep than the other; it led down by soft green inclines to the happy land he saw calling to him from below.

Snow and winter, rocks and wilderness were now a thing of the past; this was quite another world, smiling and at peace.

With stumbling feet he dragged himself along.

All zest of having won was wiped out and gone. He only felt an aching longing for the little companion who had abandoned him in the hour of attainment.

Was this for ever the way of the weary earth? Were all victories so sad?

He had also an unceasing desire for the voice of his old friend the hermit, knowing that he would have been able to explain what was but dark mystery to his searching mind.

He had the sensation of being completely forsaken and useless, a weary, weary stranger who had no home in this world. As he was pondering, sadly discouraged, both body and mind overwrought with fatigue, he saw the wings of the falcon waving before him, beckoning to him like some trusted friend; and this, at least, gave him a feeling of not being entirely forgotten.

So on he plodded, each limb stiff and painful, his unhealed wounds throbbing like tormented hearts, the hand at his side empty and lonely, missing the confiding touch of the childish fingers.

Heavy with misery, his head sunk on his breast, he followed the bird with faltering step, mechanically climbing always farther down, but a poor ghost of his former self, looking neither to the right nor to the left, for once quite irresponsive to all the beauty around him. He knew not how he advanced, all had become blank and colourless. As the day drew to an end he came to a wide mountain-meadow where a flock of sheep was peacefully grazing.

Before he could realize what was happening he was suddenly attacked on all sides by savage s.h.a.ggy dogs that barked furiously, showing their teeth, jumping at him, and tearing at his ragged clothes.

Eric was much too tired to oppose any resistance, and no doubt it would have gone badly with him had not a shrill whistle unexpectedly made the dogs stand still, all attention, their ears pointed, listening.

A heavy stick was now flung in their midst scattering them on all sides, so that they turned and ran yelping after the peaceful sheep, masking their discomfiture by wildly scampering round the flock.

Then a quite young boy came running towards where Eric stood in dejected misery, his strength all spent, incapable of moving another step.

The shepherd youth, seeing how sorry was the plight of this stranger, went quickly up to him, and laying a strong arm round his waist asked if he could be of any help.

Eric was unable to answer; he felt the earth yielding beneath his feet; so he simply laid his head on this st.u.r.dy peasant's shoulder and let himself be led away, he knew not whither.

It was long before he came back to the knowledge of his surroundings. He must have lain in a deep swoon; but after a time he felt his head being lifted with rough kindness, whilst a bowl of warm milk was held to his parched lips. He drank in great gulps like one utterly famished; drank and drank till not a drop was left. Through his tired brain shot the thought, that hit him like an aching blow, if only his little companion were there to share this life-giving draught; then he sank back with closed eyes, still too weak to care where he was, indifferent if he was to live or die, all his nature one crying need of repose.

He slept many hours; indeed, so deep was his slumber that after a time the shepherd came to where he lay, anxiously putting his hand upon the sleeper's heart, afraid of finding it silent beneath his touch.

But he felt its regular beating against the tips of his fingers; so he left Eric where he had laid him within the humble hut and went out to his flock, leaning upon his long stick, his chin resting on his hands, looking over the mountains that were gradually fading into the shades of night. Here it was already summer, the gra.s.s grew thick and green; the cold and frost had been left up there upon the frowning heights; indeed it was a smiling contrast.

Eric slept all that night and through the following day; darkness was again spreading over the world when at last he woke.

He sat up, looking about him, trying with his numbed brain to grasp his whereabouts. The door of the hut stood wide open and close before it a big fire had been lit.

Its crackling reminded Eric, with a pang, of the great blaze that had saved him and the little maid from almost certain death. He saw again the dear soft lips smiling at him from over the jumping flames, remembered how sunken had been her eyes, and with a groan he turned his face to the wall.