Surely it was Love Itself that spoke those words--Love that had raised that eternal beacon--Love that drew the pilgrims out of the long, dark night! And the sandy desert faded and became a garden where white lilies bloomed--lilies that faded not, such lilies as decked the High Altar of Heaven.
There were no wayfarers here. There was no journeying for tired feet. Only a peace ineffable, beyond the power of words to describe. The lilies grew tall and white, unspeakably pure, fairer than any earthly flowers, dazzling in splendour, decked in holiness. Very peaceful was that quiet garden, with no song of birds to break the stillness, no whisper of fountains, no faintest echo of voices. Perfect rest was there, a calm as the calm of still waters, a hush that was Divine. Like a veil the solitude lay spread, stretching into the great spaces of eternity. And the lilies stood waiting, waiting, to be laid upon the Altar of God.
How long had they stood waiting thus? Were they yet not pure enough? How long had they still to wait? Would the gates of that garden never open and the angel that served the Altar come to gather the flowers? Ah! Surely they were opening now! There came a waft of air, the scent and sound of the earth. But no one entered, and the lilies never stirred. Only the gates remained open, and the peace that wrapt the garden quivered like a filmy veil.
Very far away from that quiet place someone was calling, calling. At first it was suggestion rather than sound, a vague murmur from the old, sad world so many millions of miles away. But gradually it grew till it seemed the echo of a cry, and at last the cry itself became articulate,--a cry of anguish rising from the void.
"Come back! Come back! O God, send her back to me! Send her back!"
The lilies were moving now. They seemed to be listening, whispering together. The wind that blew through the open gates rustled among their ranks. Someone was lost then. Someone was wanted. Someone was sought through the great spaces of eternity. Was it a sod that had drifted free too soon? Would the searcher ever find that drifting soul? Did the one great Bond that nought could ever sever hang between them, linking each to each? It was only by the drawing closer of this Bond that they would ever find each other.
And the way back was long and dark and stormy. Other worlds were there, other worlds and other voices. And once there came a great sound of singing as of men and angels praising God before the High Altar of Heaven.
Then the darkness of earth rushed upwards like the smoke from a mighty furnace, and all was blotted out....
Someone was holding her. Someone was whispering her name. She opened her eyes upon the old world of cloud and sunshine, and knew that the Bond had brought her back. Through all the great spaces of Eternity he bad drawn her to his side. She looked into his face, and it was the face of a man who had suffered agony.
"Thank God!" he said. "O thank God!"