the ninth vibration-第6部分

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ar　said；　seeing　my　anxiety　but　nothing　else；　〃Her　father　was　just　the　same；　…　he　had　no　fear　of　anything　that　lives。　No　doubt　some　people　have　that　power。　I　have　never　seen　her　attract　birds　and　beasts　as　he　certainly　did；　but　she　is　quite　as　fond　of　them。〃

I　could　not　understand　her　blindness　…　what　I　myself　had　seen　raised　questions　I　found　unanswerable；　and　her　mother　saw　nothing！　Which　of　us　was　right？　presently　she　came　back　slowly　and　I　ventured　no　word。

A　woodland　sorcery；　innocent　as　the　dawn；　hovered　about　her。　What　was　it？　Did　the　mere　love　of　these　creatures　make　a　bond　between　her　soul　and　theirs；　or　was　the　ancient　dream　true　and　could　she　at　times　move　in　the　same　vibration？　I　thought　of　her　as　a　wood…spirit　sometimes；　an　expression　herself　of　some　passion　of　beauty　in　Nature；　a　thought　of　snows　and　starry　nights　and　flowing　rivers　made　visible　in　flesh。　It　is　surely　when　seized　with　the　urge　of　some　primeval　yearning　which　in　man　is　merely　sexual　that　Nature　conceives　her　fair　forms　and　manifests　them；　for　there　is　a　correspondence　that　runs　through　all　creation。

Here　I　ask　myself　…　Did　I　love　her？　In　a　sense；　yes；　deeply；　but　not　in　the　common　reading　of　the　phrase。　I　have　trembled　with　delight　before　the　wild　and　terrible　splendour　of　the　Himalayan　heights…；　low　golden　moons　have　steeped　my　soul　longing；　but　I　did　not　think　of　these　things　as　mine　in　any　narrow　sense；　nor　so　desire　them。　They　were　Angels　of　the　Evangel　of　beauty。　So　too　was　she。　She　had　none　of　the　〃silken　nets　and　traps　of　adamant；〃　she　was　no　sister　of　the　〃girls　of　mild　silver　or　of　furious　gold〃；　…　but　fair；　strong；　and　her　own；　a　dweller　in　the　House　of　Quiet。　I　did　not　covet　her。　I　loved　her。

Days　passed。　There　came　a　night　when　the　winds　were　loosed　…　no　moon；　the　stars　flickering　like　blown　tapers　through　driven　clouds；　the　trees　swaying　and　lamenting。

〃There　will　be　rain　tomorrow。〃　Mrs。　Ingmar　said；　as　we　parted　for　the　night。　I　closed　my　door。　Some　great　cat　of　the　woods　was　crying　harshly　outside　my　window；　the　sound　receding　towards　the　bridle　way。　I　slept　in　a　dream　of　tossing　seas　and　ships　labouring　among　them。

With　the　sense　of　a　summons　I　waked　…　I　cannot　tell　when。　Unmistakable；　as　if　I　were　called　by　name。　I　rose　and　dressed；　and　heard　distinctly　bare　feet　passing　my　door。　I　opened　it　noiselessly　and　looked　out　into　the　little　passage　way　that　made　for　the　entry；　and　saw　nothing　but　pools　of　darkness　and　a　dim　light　from　the　square　of　the　window　at　the　end。　But　the　wind　had　swept　the　sky　clear　with　its　flying　bosom　and　was　sleeping　now　in　its　high　places　and　the　air　was　filled　with　a　mild　moony　radiance　and　a　great　stillness。

Now　let　me　speak　with　restraint　and　exactness。　I　was　not　afraid　but　felt　as　I　imagine　a　dog　feels　in　the　presence　of　his　master；　conscious　of　a　purpose；　a　will　entirely　above　his　own　and　incomprehensible；　yet　to　be　obeyed　without　question。　I　followed　my　reading　of　the　command；　bewildered　but　docile；　and　understanding　nothing　but　that　I　was　called。

The　lights　were　out。　The　house　dead　silent；　the　familiar　veranda　ghostly　in　the　night。　And　now　I　saw　a　white　figure　at　the　head　of　the　steps　…　Brynhild。　She　turned　and　looked　over　her　shoulder；　her　face　pale　in　the　moon；　and　made　the　same　gesture　with　which　she　summoned　her　birds。　I　knew　her　meaning；　for　now　we　were　moving　in　the　same　rhythm；　and　followed　as　she　took　the　lead。　How　shall　I　describe　that　strange　night　in　the　jungle。　There　were　fire…flies　or　dancing　points　of　light　that　recalled　them。　Perhaps　she　was　only　thinking　them　…　only　thinking　the　moon　and　the　quiet；　for　we　were　in　the　world　where　thought　is　the　one　reality。　But　they　went　with　us　in　a　cloud　and　faintly　lighted　our　way。　There　were　exquisite　wafts　of　perfume　from　hidden　flowers　breathing　their　dreams　to　the　night。　Here　and　there　a　drowsy　bird　stirred　and　chirped　from　the　roof　of　darkness；　a　low　note　of　content　that　greeted　her　passing。　It　was　a　path　intricate　and　winding　and　how　long　we　went；　and　where；　I　cannot　tell。　But　at　last　she　stooped　and　parting　the　boughs　before　her　we　stepped　into　an　open　space；　and　before　us　…　I　knew　it　…　I　knew　it！　…　The　House　of　Beauty。

She　paused　at　the　foot　of　the　great　marble　steps　and　looked　at　me。

〃We　have　met　here　already。〃

I　did　not　wonder　…　I　could　not。　In　the　Ninth　vibration　surprise　had　ceased　to　be。　Why　had　I　not　recognized　her　before　…　O　dull　of　heart！　That　was　my　only　thought。　We　walk　blindfold　through　the　profound　darkness　of　material　nature；　the　blinder　because　we　believe　we　see　it。　It　is　only　when　the　doors　of　the　material　are　closed　that　the　world　appears　to　man　as　it　exists　in　the　eternal　truth。

〃Did　you　know　this？〃　I　asked；　trembling　before　mystery。

〃I　knew　it；　because　I　am　awake。　You　forgot　it　in　the　dull　sleep　which　we　call　daily　life。　But　we　were　here　and　THEY　began　the　story　of　the　King　who　made　this　house。　Tonight　we　shall　hear　it。　It　he　story　of　Beauty　wandering　through　the　world　and　the　world　received　her　not。　We　hear　it　in　this　place　because　here　he　agonized　for　what　he　knew　too　late。〃

〃Was　that　our　only　meeting？〃

〃We　meet　every　night；　but　you　forget　when　the　day　brings　the　sleep　of　the　soul。　…　You　do　not　sink　deep　enough　into　rest　to　remember。　You　float　on　the　surface　where　the　little　bubbles　of　foolish　dream　are　about　you　and　I　cannot　reach　you　then。〃

〃How　can　I　compel　myself　to　the　deeps？〃

〃You　cannot。　It　will　come。　But　when　you　have　passed　up　the　bridle　way　and　beyond　the　Shipki；　stop　at　Gyumur。　There　is　the　Monastery　of　Tashigong；　and　there　one　will　meet　you…

〃His　name？〃

〃Stephen　Clifden。　He　will　tell　you　what　you　desire　to　know。　Continue　on　then　with　him　to　Yarkhand。　There　in　the　Ninth　Vibration　we　shall　meet　again。　It　is　a　long　journey　but　you　will　be　content。〃

〃Do　you　certainly　know　that　we　shall　meet　again？〃

〃When　you　have　learnt；　we　can　meet　when　we　will。　He　will　teach　you　the　Laya　Yoga。　You　should　not　linger　here　in　the　woods　any　longer。　You　should　go　on。　In　three　days　it　will　be　possible。〃

〃But　how　have　you　learnt　…　a　girl　and　young？〃

〃Through　a　close　union　with　Nature　…　that　is　one　of　the　three　roads。　But　I　know　little　as　yet。　Now　take　my　hand　and　come。

〃One　last　question。　Is　this　house　ruined　and　abject　as　I　have　seen　it　in　the　daylight；　or　royal　and　the　house　of　Gods　as　we　see　it　now？　Which　is　truth？〃

〃In　the　day　you　saw　it　in　the　empty　illusion　of　blind　thought。　Tonight；　eternally　lovely　as　in　the　thought　of　the　man　who　made　it。　Nothing　that　is　beautiful　is　lost；　though　in　the　sight　of　the　unwise　it　seems　to　die。　Death　is　in　the　eyes　we　look　through　…　when　they　are　cleansed　we　see　Life　only。　Now　take　my　hand　and　come。　Delay　no　more。〃

She　caught　my　hand　and　we　entered　the　dim　magnificence　of　the　great　hall。　The　moon　entered　with　us。

Instantly　I　had　the　feeling　of　supernatural　presence。　Yet　I　only　write　this　in　deference　to　common　use；　for　it　was　absolutely　natural　…　more　so　than　any　I　have　met　in　the　state　called　daily　life。　It　was　a　thing　in　which　I　had　a　part；　and　if　this　was　supernatural　so　also　was　I。

Again　I　saw　the　Dark　One；　the　Beloved；　the　young　Krishna；　above　the　women　who　loved　him。　He　motioned　with　his　hand　as　we　passed；　as　though　he　waved　us　smiling　on　our　way。　Again　the　dancers　moved　in　a　rhythmic　tread　to　the　feet　of　the　mountain　Goddess　…　again　we　followed　to　where　she　bent　to　hear。　But　now；　solemn　listening　faces　crowded　in　the　shadows　about　her；　grave　eyes　fixed　immovably　upon　what　lay　at　her　feet　…　a　man；　submerged　in　the　pure　light　that　fell　from　her　presence；　his　dark　face　stark　and　fine；　lips　locked；　eyes　shut；　arms　flung　out　cross…wise　in　utter　abandonment；　like　a　figure　of　grief　invisibly　crucified　upon　his　shame。　I　stopped　a　few　feet　from　him；　arrested　by　a　barrier　I　could　not　pass。　Was　it　sleep　or　death　or　some　mysterious　state　that　partook　of　both？　Not　sleep；　for　there　was　no　flutter　of　breath。　Not　death　…　no　rigid　immobility　struck　chill　into　the　air。　It　was　the　state　of　subjection　where　the　spirit　set　free　lies　tranced　in　the　mighty　influences　which　surround　us　invisibly　until　we　have　entered；　though　but　for　a　moment；　the　Ninth　Vibration。

And　now；　with　these　Listeners　about　us；　a　clear　voice　began　and　stirred　the　air　with　music。　I　have　since　been　asked　in　what　tongue　it　spoke　and　could　only　answer　that　it　reached　my　ears　in　the　words　of　my　childhood；　and　that　I　know　whatever　that　language　had　been　it　would　so　have　reached　me。

〃Great　Lady；　hear　the　story　of　this　man's　fall；　for　it　is　the　story　of　man。　Be　pitiful　to　the　blind　eyes　and　give　them　light。〃

There　was　long　since　in　Ranipur　a　mighty　King　and　at　his　birth　the　wise　men　declared　that　unless　he　cast　aside　all　passions　that　debase　the　soul；　relinquishing　the　lower　desires　for　the　higher　until　a　Princess　laden　with　great　gifts　should　come　to　be　his　bride；　he　would　experience　great　and　terrible　misfortunes。　And　his　royal　parents　did　what　they　could　to　possess　him　with　this　belief；　but　they　died　before　he　reached　manhood。　Behold　him　then；　a　young　King　in　his　palace；　surrounded　with　splendour。　How　should　he　withstand　the　passionate　crying　of　the　flesh　or　believe　that　through　pleasure　comes　satiety　and　the　loss　of　that　in　the　spirit　whereby　alone　pleasure　can　be　en