In that little bedroom of a mountain châlet, lit by the moon and candle-light, we stood together, our bodies joined by the clasp of hands, and our ancient souls united in a single purpose.
I looked into the eyes of this great woman, imperially altered in her outward aspect, magnificent in the towering soul of her; I looked at Julius, stately as some hierophantic figure who mastered Nature by comprehending her; I felt their hands, his own firm and steady, hers clasping softly, tenderly, yet with an equal strength; and I realised that I stood thus between them, not merely in this isolated mountain valley, but in the full tide of life whose source rose in the fountains of an immemorial past, Nature and human-nature linked together in a relationship that was a practical reality. Our three comrade-souls were re-united in an act of restitution; sharing, or about to share, a ceremony that had cosmic meaning.
And the beauty of the woman stole upon my heart, bringing the loveliness of the universe, while Julius brought its strength.
“This time,” I said aloud, “you shall not fail. I am with you both in sympathy, forgiveness,—love.”
Their hands increased the pressure on my own.
Her eyes held mine as she replied: “This duty that we owe to Nature and to you—so long—so long ago.”
“To me——?” I faltered.
With shining eyes, and a smile divinely tender, she answered: “Love shall repay. We have delayed you by our deep mistake.”
“We shall undo the wrong we worked upon you,” I heard Julius say. “We stole the channel of your body. And we failed.”