“My love and sympathy are yours,” I repeated, as we drew closer still together. “I bear you no ill-will....”
And then she continued gravely, but ever with that solemn beauty lighting up her face:
“Oh, Silvatela, it seems so small a thing in the long, long journey of our souls. We were too ambitious only. The elemental Powers we tried to summon through your vacated body are still unhoused. The fault was not yours; it was our ambition and our faithlessness. I loved you to your undoing—you sacrificed yourself so willingly, loving me, alas, too well. The failure came. Instead of becoming as the gods, we bear this burden of a mighty debt. We owe it both to you and to the universe. Fear took us at the final moment—and you returned too soon—robbed of the high teaching that was yours by right, your progress delayed thereby, your memory clouded now....”
“My development took another turning,” I said, hardly knowing whence the knowledge came to me, “no more than that. It was for love of you that I returned too soon—the fault was mine. It was for the best—there has been no real delay.” But there mingled in me a memory both clouded and unclouded. There was a confusion beyond me to unravel. I only knew our love was marvellous, although the fuller motives remained entangled. “It is all forgiven,” I murmured.
“Your forgiveness,” she answered softly, “is of perfect love. We loved each other then—nor have we quite forgotten now. This time, at least, we shall ensure success. The Powers stand ready, waiting; we are united; we shall act as one. At the Equinox we shall restore the balance; and memory and knowledge shall be yours a hundredfold at last.”
The voice of Julius interrupted, though so low it was scarcely audible:
“I offer myself. It is just and right, not otherwise. The risk must be all mine. Once accomplished”—he turned to me with power in his face—“we shall provide you with the privilege you lost through us. Our error will then be fully expiated and the equilibrium restored. It is an expiation and a sacrifice. Nature in this valley works with us now, and behind it is the universe—all, all aware....”
It seemed to me she leaped at him across the space between us. Our hands released. Perhaps, with the breaking of our physical contact, some measure of receptiveness went out of me, or it may have been the suddenness of the unexpected action that confused me. I no longer fully understood. Some bright clear flame of comprehension wavered, dimmed, went out in me. Even the words that passed between them then I did not properly catch. I saw that she clasped him round the neck while she uttered vehement words that he resisted, turning aside as with passionate refusal. It was—this, at least, I grasped before the return of reason in me broke our amazing union and left confusion in the place of harmony—that each one sought to take the risk upon himself, herself. The channel of evocation—a human system—I dimly saw, was the offering each one burned to make. The risk, in some uncomprehended way, was grave. And I stepped forward, though but half understanding what it was I did. I offered, to the best of my memory and belief—offered myself as a channel, even as I had offered or permitted long ago in love for her.
For I had discerned the truth, and knew deep suffering, nor cared what happened to me. It was the older Self in her that gave me love, while her self of To-day—the upper self—loved Julius. Mine was the old subconscious love unrecognised by her normal self; the love of the daily, normal self was his.