Author: Marie Corelli
Category: Literature
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“I am not afraid of you, Zara,” I said gravely; “I love you too well for that. But I am sorry for the poor Prince; and I cannot understand—”
“You cannot understand why those who trespass against fixed laws should suffer?” observed Zara calmly. “Well, you will understand some day. You will know that in one way or another it is the reason of all suffering, both physical and mental, in the world.”
I said no more, but waited in silence till the sound of a firm approaching footstep announced Heliobas. He entered the room quickly — glanced at the motionless form of the Prince, then at me, and lastly at his sister.
“Has he been long thus?” he asked in a low tone.
“Not five minutes,” replied Zara.
A pitying and affectionate gentleness of expression filled his keen eyes.
“Reckless boy!” he murmured softly, as he stooped and laid one hand lightly on Ivan’s breast. “He is the very type of misguided human bravery. You were too hard upon him, Zara!”
Zara sighed.
“He spoke against you,” she said. “Of course he did,” returned her brother with a smile. “And it was perfectly natural he should do so. Have I not read his thoughts? Do not I know that he considers me a false pretender and CHARLATAN? And have I not humoured him? In this he is no worse than any one of his race. Every great scientific discovery is voted impossible at the first start. Ivan is not to blame because he is like the rest of the world. He will be wiser in time.”
“He attempted to force his desires,” began Zara again, and her cheeks flushed indignantly.
“I know,” answered her brother. “I foresaw how it would be, but was powerless to prevent it. He was wrong — but bold! Such boldness compels a certain admiration. This fellow would scale the stars, if he knew how to do it, by physical force alone.”
I grew impatient, and interrupted these remarks.
“Perhaps he is scaling the stars now,” I said; “or at any rate he will do so if death can show him the way.”
Heliobas gave me a friendly glance.
“You also are growing courageous when you can speak to your physician thus abruptly,” he observed quietly. “Death has nothing to do with our friend as yet, I assure you. Zara, you had better leave us. Your face must not be the first for Ivan’s eyes to rest upon. You,” nodding to me, “can stay.”
Zara pressed my hand gently as she passed me, and entered her studio, the door of which closed behind her, and I heard the key turn in the lock. I became absorbed in the proceedings of Heliobas. Stooping towards the recumbent form of Prince Ivan, he took the heavy lifeless hands firmly in his own, and then fixed his eyes fully and steadily on the pale, set features with an expression of the most forcible calm and absolutely undeniable authority. Not one word did he utter, but remained motionless as a statue in the attitude thus assumed — he seemed scarcely to breathe — not a muscle of his countenance moved. Perhaps twenty or thirty seconds might have elapsed, when a warm tinge of colour came back to the apparently dead face — the brows twitched — the lips quivered and parted in a heavy sigh. The braised appearance of the eyelids gave place to the natural tint — they opened, disclosing the eyes, which stared directly into those of the compelling Master who thus forced their obedience. A strong shudder shook the young man’s frame; his before nerveless hands grasped those of Heliobas with force and fervour, and still meeting that steady look which seemed to pierce the very centre of his system, Prince Ivan, like Lazarus of old, arose and stood erect. As he did so, Heliobas withdrew his eyes, dropped his hands and smiled.
“You are better, Ivan?” he inquired kindly.
The Prince looked about him, bewildered. He passed one hand across his forehead without replying. Then he turned slightly and perceived me in the window-embrasure, whither I had retreated in fear and wonderment at the marvellous power of Heliobas, thus openly and plainly displayed.
“Tell me,” he said, addressing me, “have I been dreaming?”
I could not answer him. I was glad to see him recover, yet I was a little afraid. Heliobas pushed a chair gently towards him.
“Sit down, Ivan,” he said quietly.
The Prince obeyed, and covered his face with his hand as though in deep and earnest meditation. I looked on in silence and wonderment. Heliobas spoke not another word, and together we watched the pensive figure in the chair, so absorbed in serious thought. Some minutes passed. The gentle tick of the clock in the outer hall grew almost obtrusive, so loud did it seem in the utter stillness that surrounded us. I longed to speak — to ask questions — to proffer sympathy — but dared not move or utter a syllable. Suddenly the Prince rose; his manner was calm and dignified, yet touched with a strange humility. He advanced to Heliobas, holding out his hand.
“Forgive me, Casimir!” he said simply.
Heliobas at once grasped the proffered palm within his own, and looked at the young man with an almost fatherly tenderness.
“Say no more, Ivan,” he returned, his rich voice sounding more than usually mellow in its warmth and heartiness. “We must all learn before we can know, and some of our lessons are sharp and difficult. Whatever you have thought of me, remember I have not, and do not, blame you. To be offended with unbelievers is to show that you are not yourself quite sure of the faith to which you would compel them.”
“I would ask you one thing,” went on the Prince, speaking in a low tone. “Do not let me stay to fall into fresh errors. Teach me — guide me, Casimir; I will be the most docile of your pupils. As for Zara—”
He paused, as if overcome.
“Come with me,” said Heliobas, taking his arm; “a glass of good wine will invigorate you. It is better to see Zara no more for a time. Let me take charge of you. You, mademoiselle,” turning to me, “will be kind enough to tell Zara that the Prince has recovered, and sends her a friendly good-night. Will that message suffice?” he inquired of Ivan, with a smile.
The Prince looked at me with a sort of wistful gravity as I came forward to bid him farewell.
“You will embrace her,” he said slowly, “without fear. Her eyes will rain sunshine upon you; they will not dart lightning. Her lips will meet yours, and their touch will be warm — not cold, as sharp steel. Yes; bid her good-night for me; tell her that an erring man kisses the hem of her robe, and prays her for pardon. Tell her that I understand; tell her I have seen her lover!”
“With these words, uttered distinctly and emphatically, he turned away with. Heliobas, who still held him by the arm in a friendly, half-protecting manner. The tears stood in my eyes. I called softly:
“Good-night, Prince Ivan!”
He looked back with a faint smile.
“Good-night, mademoiselle!”
Heliobas also looked back and gave me an encouraging nod, which meant several things at once, such as “Do not be anxious,” “He will be all right soon,” and “Always believe the best.” I watched their two figures disappear through the doorway, and then, feeling almost cheerful again, I knocked at the door of Zara’s studio. She opened it at once, and came out. I delivered the Prince’s message, word for word, as he had given it. She listened, and sighed deeply.
“Are you sorry for him, Zara?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied; “I am sorry for him as far as I can be sorry for anything. I am never actually VERY sorry for any circumstances, however grievous they may appear.”
I was surprised at this avowal.
“Why, Zara,” I said, “I thought you were so keenly sympathetic?”
“So I am sympathetic, but only with suffering ignorance — a dying bird that knows not why it should die — a withering rose that sees not the reason for its withering; but for human beings who wilfully blind themselves to the teachings of their own instincts, and are always doing what they know they ought not to do in spite of warning, I cannot say I am sorry. And for those who DO study the causes and ultimate results of their existence, there is no occasion to be sorry, as they are perfectly happy, knowing ev
erything that happens to them to be for their advancement and justification.”
“Tell me,” I asked with a little hesitation, “what did Prince Ivan mean by saying he had seen your lover, Zara?”
“He meant what he said, I suppose,” replied Zara, with sudden coldness. “Excuse me, I thought you said you were not inquisitive.”
I could not bear this change of tone in her, and I clasped my arms tight about her and smiled in her face.
“You shall not get angry with ME, Zara. I am not going to be treated like poor Ivan. I have found out what you are, and how dangerous it is to admire you; but I do admire and love you. And I defy you to knock me down as unceremoniously as you did the Prince — you beautiful living bit of Lightning!”
Zara moved restlessly in my embrace, but I held her fast. At the last epithet I bestowed on her, she grew very pale; but her eyes resembled the jewels on her breast in their sheeny glitter.
“What have you found out?” she murmured. “What do you know?”
“I cannot say I KNOW,” I went on boldly, still keeping my arms round her; “but I have made a guess which I think comes near the truth. Your brother has had the care of you ever since you were a little child, and I believe he has, by some method known only to himself, charged you with electricity. Yes, Zara,” for she had started and tried to loosen my hold of her; “and it is that which keeps you young and fresh as a girl of sixteen, at an age when other women lose their bloom and grow wrinkles. It is that which gives you the power to impart a repelling shock to people you dislike, as in the case of Prince Ivan. It is that which gives you such an attractive force for those with whom you have a little sympathy — such as myself, for instance; and you cannot, Zara, with all your electric strength, unclasp my arms from your waist, because you have not the sentiment of repulsion towards me which would enable you to do it. Shall I go on guessing?”
Zara made a sign of assent — the expression of her face had softened, and a dimpling smile played round the corners of her mouth.
“Your lover,” I went on steadily and slowly, “is a native of some other sphere — perhaps a creation of your own fancy — perhaps (for I will not be sceptical any more) a beautiful and all-powerful angelic spirit. I will not discuss this with you. I believe that when Prince Ivan fell senseless, he saw, or fancied he saw, that nameless being. And now,” I added, loosening my clasp of her, “have I guessed well?”
Zara looked meditative.
“I do not know,” she said, “why you should imagine—”
“Stop!” I exclaimed; “there is no imagination in the case. I have reasoned it out. Here is a book I found in the library on electric organs as they are discovered to exist in certain fish. Listen: ‘They are nervous apparatuses which in the arrangement of their parts may be compared to a Voltaic pile. They develop electricity and give electrical discharges.’”
“Well!” said Zara.
“You say ‘Well!’ as if you did not know!” I exclaimed half-angrily, half-laughingly. “These fish have helped me to understand a great deal, I assure you. Your brother must have discovered the seed or commencement of electrical organs like those described, in the human body; and he has cultivated them in you and in himself, and has brought them to a high state of perfection. He has cultivated them in Raffaello Cellini, and he is beginning to cultivate them in me, and I hope most sincerely he will succeed. I think his theory is a magnificent one!”
Zara gazed seriously at me, and her large eyes seemed to grow darker with the intensity of her thought.
“Supposing you had reasoned out the matter correctly,” she said— “and I will not deny that you have done a great deal towards the comprehension of it — have you no fear? do you not include some drawbacks in even Casimir’s learning such a secret, and being able to cultivate and educate such a deadly force as that of electricity in the human being?”
“If it is deadly, it is also life-giving,” I answered. “Remedies are also poisons. You laid the Prince senseless at your feet, but your brother raised him up again. Both these things were done by electricity. I can understand it all now; I see no obscurity, no mystery. And oh, what a superb discovery it is!”
Zara smiled.
“You enthusiast!” she said, “it is nothing new. It was well known to the ancient Chaldeans. It was known to Moses and his followers; it was practised in perfection by Christ and His disciples. To modern civilization it may seem a discovery, because the tendency Of all so-called progress is to forget the past. The scent of the human savage is extraordinarily keen — keener than that of any animal — he can follow a track unerringly by some odour he is able to detect in the air. Again, he can lay back his ears to the wind and catch a faint, far-off sound with, certainty and precision, and tell you what it is. Civilized beings have forgotten all this; they can neither smell nor hear with actual keenness. Just in the same way, they have forgotten the use of the electrical organs they all indubitably possess in large or minute degree. As the muscles of the arm are developed by practice, so can the wonderful internal electrical apparatus of man be strengthened and enlarged by use. The world in its youth knew this; the world in its age forgets, as an old man forgets or smiles disdainfully at the past sports of his childhood. But do not let us talk any more to-night. If you think your ideas of me are correct—”
“I am sure they are!” I cried triumphantly.
Zara held out her arms to me.
“And you are sure you love me?” she asked.
I nestled into her embrace and kissed her.
“Sure!” I answered. “Zara, I love and honour you more than any woman I ever met or ever shall meet. And you love me — I know you do!”
“How can I help it?” she said. “Are you not one of us? Good-night, dearest! Sleep well!”
“Good-night!” I answered. “And remember Prince Ivan asked for your pardon.”
“I remember!” she replied softly. “I have already pardoned him, and I will pray for him.” And a sort of radiant pity and forbearance illumined her lovely features, as we parted for the night. So might an angel look on some repentant sinner pleading for Heaven’s forgiveness.
I lay awake for some time that night, endeavouring to follow out the track of thought I had entered upon in my conversation with Zara. With such electricity as Heliobas practised, once admitting that human electric force existed, a fact which no reasoning person could deny, all things were possible. Even a knowledge of superhuman events might be attained, if there were anything in the universe that WAS superhuman; and surely it would be arrogant and ignorant to refuse to contemplate such a probability. At one time people mocked at the wild idea that a message could flash in a moment of time from one side of the Atlantic to the other by means of a cable laid under the sea; now that it is an established fact, the world has grown accustomed to it, and has ceased to regard it as a wonder. Granting human electricity to exist, why should not a communication be established, like a sort of spiritual Atlantic cable, between man and the beings of other spheres and other solar systems? The more I reflected on the subject the more lost I became in daring speculations concerning that other world, to which I was soon to be lifted. Then in a sort of half-doze, I fancied I saw an interminable glittering chain of vivid light composed of circles that were all looped one in another, which seemed to sweep round the realms of space and to tie up the sun, moon, and stars like flowers in a ribbon of fire. After much anxious and humble research, I found myself to be one of the smallest links in this great chain. I do not know whether I was grateful or afraid at this discovery, for sleep put an end to my drowsy fancies, and dropped a dark curtain over my waking dreams.
CHAPTER X.
MY STRANGE DEPARTURE.
The next morning brought me two letters; one from Mrs. Everard, telling me that she and the Colonel had resolved on coming to Paris.
“All the nice people are going away from here,” she wrote. “Madame Didier and her husband have started for Naples; and, to crown our lonesomeness, Raff
aello Cellini packed up all his traps, and left us yesterday morning en route for Rome. The weather continues to be delicious; but as you seem to be getting on so well in Paris, in spite of the cold there, we have made up our minds to join you, the more especially as I want to renovate my wardrobe. We shall go straight to the Grand Hotel; and I am writing to Mrs. Challoner by this post, asking her to get us rooms. We are so glad you are feeling nearly recovered — of course, you must not leave your physician till you are quite ready. At any rate, we shall not arrive till the end of next week.”
I began to calculate. During that strange interview in the chapel, Heliobas had said that in eight days more I should be strong enough to undergo the transmigration he had promised to effect upon me. Those eight days were now completed on this very morning. I was glad of this; for I did not care to see Mrs. Everard or anyone till the experiment was over. The other letter I received was from Mrs. Challoner, who asked me to give an “Improvisation” at the Grand Hotel that day fortnight.
When I went down to breakfast, I mentioned both these letters, and said, addressing myself to Heliobas:
“Is it not rather a sudden freak of Raffaello Cellini’s to leave Cannes? We all thought he was settled for the winter there. Did you know he was going to Rome?”
“Yes,” replied Heliobas, as he stirred his coffee abstractedly. “I knew he was going there some day this month; his presence is required there on business.”
“And are you going to give the Improvisation this Mrs. Challoner asks you for?” inquired Zara.
I glanced at Heliobas. He answered for me.
“I should certainly give it if I were you,” he said quietly: “there will be nothing to prevent your doing so at the date named.”
I was relieved. I had not been altogether able to divest myself of the idea that I might possibly never come out alive from the electric trance to which I had certainly consented; and this assurance on the part of Heliobas was undoubtedly comforting. We were all very silent that morning; we all wore grave and preoccupied expressions. Zara was very pale, and appeared lost in thought. Heliobas, too, looked slightly careworn, as though he had been up all night, engaged in some brain-exhausting labour. No mention was made of Prince Ivan; we avoided his name by a sort of secret mutual understanding. When the breakfast was over, I looked with a fearless smile at the calm face of Heliobas, which appeared nobler and more dignified than ever with that slight touch of sadness upon it, and said softly: