the ninth vibration-第8部分

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e　and　a　broken　heart。　Cast　your　crown　and　sceptre　in　the　dust；　0　King　…　0　King　of　Fools。〃

（The　man　at　the　feet　of　the　Dweller　in　the　Heights　moved。　Some　dim　word　shaped　upon　his　locked　lips。　She　listened　in　a　divine　calm。　It　seemed　that　the　very　Gods　drew　nearer。　Again　the　man　essayed　speech；　the　body　dead；　life　only　in　the　words　that　none　could　hear。　The　voice　went　on。）

But　the　Princess　flying　wearily　because　of　the　sore　wound　in　her　heart；　came　at　last　to　the　City　under　the　Sunset；　where　the　Lord　of　Death　rules　in　the　House　of　Quiet；　and　was　there　received　with　royal　honours　for　in　that　land　are　no　disguises。　And　she　knelt　before　the　Secret　One　and　in　a　voice　broken　with　agony　entreated　him　to　heal　her。　And　with　veiled　and　pitying　eyes　he　looked　upon　her；　for　many　and　grievous　as　are　the　wounds　he　has　healed　this　was　more　grievous　still。　And　he　said；

〃Princess；　I　cannot；　But　this　I　can　do　…　I　can　give　a　new　heart　in　a　new　birth　…　happy　and　careless　as　the　heart　of　a　child。　Take　this　escape　from　the　anguish　you　endure　and　be　at　peace。〃

But　the　Princess；　white　with　pain；　asked　only；

〃In　this　new　heart　and　birth；　is　there　room　for　the　King？〃

And　the　Lord　of　Peace　replied；

〃None。　He　too　will　be　forgotten。〃

Then　she　rose　to　her　feet。

〃I　will　endure　and　when　he　comes　I　will　serve　him　once　more。　If　he　will　he　shall　heal　me；　and　if　not　I　will　endure　for　ever。〃

And　He　who　is　veiled　replied；

〃In　this　sacred　City　no　pain　may　disturb　the　air；　therefore　you　must　wait　outside　in　the　chill　and　the　dark。　Think　better；　Princess！　Also；　he　must　pass　through　many　rebirths；　because　he　beheld　the　face　of　Beauty　unveiled　and　knew　her　not。　And　when　he　comes　he　will　be　weary　and　weak　as　a　new…born　child；　and　no　more　a　great　King。〃　And　the　Princess　smiled；

〃Then　he　will　need　me　the　more；〃　she　said；　〃I　will　wait　and　kiss　the　feet　of　my　King。〃

And　the　Lord　of　Death　was　silent。　So　she　went　outside　into　the　darkness　of　the　spaces；　and　the　souls　free　passed　her　like　homing　doves；　and　she　sat　with　her　hands　clasped　over　the　sore　wound　in　her　heart；　watching　the　earthward　way。　And　the　Princess　is　keeping　still　the　day　of　her　long　patience。〃

The　voice　ceased。　And　there　was　a　great　silence；　and　the　listening　faces　drew　nearer。

Then　the　Dweller　in　the　Heights　spoke　in　a　voice　soft　as　the　falling　of　snow　in　the　quiet　of　frost　and　moon。　I　could　have　wept　myself　blind　with　joy　to　hear　that　music。　More　I　dare　not　say。

〃He　is　in　the　Lower　State　of　Perception。　He　sorrows　for　his　loss。　Let　him　have　one　instant's　light　that　still　he　may　hope。〃

She　bowed　above　the　man；　gazing　upon　him　as　a　mother　might　upon　her　sleeping　child。　The　dead　eyelids　stirred；　lifted；　a　faint　gleam　showed　beneath　them；　an　unspeakable　weariness。　I　thought　they　would　fall　unsatisfied。　Suddenly　he　saw　What　looked　upon　him；　and　a　terror　of　joy　no　tongue　can　tell　flashed　over　the　dark　mirror　of　his　face。　He　stretched　a　faint　hand　to　touch　her　feet；　a　sobbing　sigh　died　upon　his　lips；　and　once　more　the　swooning　sleep　took　him。　He　lay　as　a　dead　man　before　the　Assembly。

〃The　night　is　far　spent；〃　a　voice　said；　from　I　know　not　where。　And　I　knew　it　was　said　not　only　for　the　sleeper　but　for　all；　for　though　the　flying　feet　of　Beauty　seem　for　a　moment　to　outspeed　us　she　will　one　day　wait　our　coming　and　gather　us　to　her　bosom。

As　before；　the　vision　spread　outward　like　rings　in　a　broken　reflection　in　water。　I　saw　the　girl　beside　me；　but　her　hand　grew　light　in　mine。　I　felt　it　no　longer。　I　heard　the　roaring　wind　in　the　trees；　or　was　it　a　great　voice　thundering　in　my　ears？　Sleep　took　me。　I　waked　in　my　little　room。

Strange　and　sad　…　I　saw　her　next　day　and　did　not　remember　her　whom　of　all　things　I　desired　to　know。　I　remembered　the　vision　and　knew　that　whether　in　dream　or　waking　I　had　heard　an　eternal　truth。　I　longed　with　a　great　longing　to　meet　my　beautiful　companion；　and　she　stood　at　my　side　and　I　was　blind。

Now　that　I　have　climbed　a　little　higher　on　the　Mount　of　Vision　it　seems　even　to　myself　that　this　could　not　be。　Yet　it　was；　and　it　is　true　of　not　this　only　but　of　how　much　else！

She　knew　me。　I　learnt　that　later；　but　she　made　no　sign。　Her　simplicities　had　carried　her　far　beyond　and　above　me；　to　places　where　only　the　winged　things　attain…　〃as　a　bird　among　the　bird…droves　of　God。〃

I　have　since　known　that　this　power　of　direct　simplicity　in　her　was　why　among　the　great　mountains　we　beheld　the　Divine　as　the　emanation　of　the　terrible　beauty　about　us。　We　cannot　see　it　as　it　is　…　only　in　some　shadowing　forth；　gathering　sufficient　strength　for　manifestation　from　the　spiritual　atoms　that　haunt　the　region　where　that　form　has　been　for　ages　the　accepted　vehicle　of　adoration。　But　I　was　now　to　set　forth　to　find　another　knowledge　…　to　seek　the　Beauty　that　blinds　us　to　all　other。　Next　day　the　man　who　was　directing　my　preparations　for　travel　sent　me　word　from　Simla　that　all　was　ready　and　I　could　start　two　days　later。　I　told　my　friends　the　time　of　parting　was　near。

〃But　it　was　no　surprise　to　me；〃　I　added；　〃for　I　had　heard　already　that　in　a　very　few　days　I　should　be　on　my　way。

Mrs。　Ingmar　was　more　than　kind。　She　laid　a　frail　hand　on　mine。

〃We　shall　miss　you　indeed。　If　it　is　possible　to　send　us　word　of　your　adventures　in　those　wild　solitudes　I　hope　you　will　do　it。　Of　course　aviation　will　soon　lay　bare　their　secrets　and　leave　them　no　mysteries；　so　you　don't　go　too　soon。　One　may　worship　science　and　yet　feel　it　injures　the　beauty　of　the　world。　But　what　is　beauty　compared　with　knowledge？〃

〃Do　you　never　regret　it？〃　I　asked。

〃Never；　dear　Mr。　Ormond。　I　am　a　worshipper　of　hard　facts　and　however　hideous　they　may　be　I　prefer　them　to　the　prismatic　colours　of　romance。〃

Brynhild；　smiling；　quoted；

　　〃Their　science　roamed　from　star　to　star　　　　And　than　itself　found　nothing　greater。　　　　What　wonder？　In　a　Leyden　jar　　　　They　bottled　the　Creator？〃

〃There　is　nothing　greater　than　science；〃　said　Mrs。　Ingmar　with　soft　reverence。　〃The　mind　of　man　is　the　foot…rule　of　the　universe。〃

She　meditated　for　a　moment　and　then　added　that　my　kind　interests　in　their　plans　decided　her　to　tell　me　that　she　would　be　returning　to　Europe　and　then　to　Canada　in　a　few　months　with　a　favourite　niece　as　her　companion　while　Brynhild　would　remain　in　India　with　friends　in　Mooltan　for　a　time。　I　looked　eagerly　at　her　but　she　was　lost　in　her　own　thoughts　and　it　was　evidently　not　the　time　to　say　more。

If　I　had　hoped　for　a　vision　before　I　left　the　neighbourhood　of　that　strange　House　of　Beauty　where　a　spirit　imprisoned　appeared　to　await　the　day　of　enlightenment　I　was　disappointed。　These　things　do　not　happen　as　one　expects　or　would　choose。　The　wind　bloweth　where　it　listeth　until　the　laws　which　govern　the　inner　life　are　understood；　and　then　we　would　not　choose　if　we　could　for　we　know　that　all　is　better　than　well。　In　this　world；　either　in　the　blinded　sight　of　daily　life　or　in　the　clarity　of　the　true　sight　I　have　not　since　seen　it；　but　that　has　mattered　little；　for　having　heard　an　authentic　word　within　its　walls　I　have　passed　on　my　way　elsewhere。

Next　day　a　letter　from　Olesen　reached　me。

〃Dear　Ormond；　I　hope　you　have　had　a　good　time　at　the　House　in　the　Woods。　I　saw　Rup　Singh　a　few　days　ago　and　he　wrote　the　odd　message　I　enclose。　You　know　what　these　natives　are；　even　the　most　sensible　of　them；　and　you　will　humour　the　old　fellow　for　he　ages　very　fast　and　I　think　is　breaking　up。　But　this　was　not　what　I　wanted　to　say。　I　had　a　letter　from　a　man　I　had　not　seen　for　years　…　a　fellow　called　Stephen　Clifden；　who　lives　in　Kashmir。　As　a　matter　of　fact　I　had　forgotten　his　existence　but　evidently　he　has　not　repaid　the　compliment　for　he　writes　as　follows　…　No；　I　had　better　send　you　the　note　and　you　can　do　as　you　please。　I　am　rushed　off　my　legs　with　work　and　the　heat　is　hell　with　the　lid　off。　And…〃

But　the　rest　was　of　no　interest　except　to　a　friend　of　years'　standing。　I　read　Rup　Singh's　message　first。　It　was　written　in　his　own　tongue。

〃To　the　Honoured　One　who　has　attained　to　the　favour　of　the　Favourable。

〃You　have　with　open　eyes　seen　what　this　humble　one　has　dreamed　but　has　not　known。　If　the　thing　be　possible；　write　me　this　word　that　I　may　depart　in　peace。　'With　that　one　who　in　a　former　birth　you　loved　all　is　well。　Fear　nothing　for　him。　The　way　is　long　but　at　the　end　the　lamps　of　love　are　lit　and　the　Unstruck　music　is　sounded。　He　lies　at　the　feet　of　Mercy　and　there　awaits　his　hour。'　And　if　it　be　not　possible　to　write　these　words；　write　nothing；　0　Honoured；　for　though　it　be　in　the　hells　my　soul　shall　find　my　King；　and　again　I　shall　serve　him　as　once　I　served。〃

I　understood；　and　wrote　those　words　as　he　had　written　them。　Strange　mystery　of　life　…　that　I　who　had　not　known　should　see；　and　that　this　man　whose　fidelity　had　not　deserted　his　broken　King　in　his　utter　downfall　should　have　sought　with　passion　for　one　sight　of　the　beloved　face　across　the　waters　of　death　and　sought　in　vain。　I　thought　of　those　Buddhist　words　of　Seneca　…　〃The　soul　may　be　and　is　in　the　mass　of　men　drugged　and　silenced　by　the　seductions　of　sense　and　the　deceptions　of　the　world。　But　if；　in　some　moment　of　detachment　and　elation；　when　its　captors　and　jailors　relax　their　guard；　it　can　escape　their　clutches；　it　will　seek　at　once　the　region　of　its　b