“‘As fagots are brought from the forest
Firmly held by the sinews which bind them,
So cleave to these others, your sisters,
Whenever, wherever you find them.
Be strong as the fagots are sturdy;
Be pure in your deepest desire;
Be true to the truth that is in you;
And—follow the law of the fire.’”
The girl returned to her place in the circle, and at a sign from Anne Wentworth, four of her girls followed her as she moved forward and stood before Mrs. Royall. From a paper in her hand she read the names of the four girls, and declared that they had all met the tests for the second grade.
The Chief Guardian turned to the four.
“What is your desire?” she asked, and together they repeated,
“‘As fuel is brought to the fire
So I purpose to bring
My strength,
My ambition,
My heart’s desire,
My joy,
And my sorrow
To the fire
Of humankind.
For I will tend
As my fathers have tended,
And my father’s fathers
Since time began,
The fire that is called
The love of man for man,
The love of man for God.’”
As the young earnest voices repeated the beautiful words, Laura Haven’s heart thrilled again with the solemn beauty of it all, and tears crowded to her eyes in the silence that followed—a silence broken only by the whispering of the night wind high in the treetops.
Then Mrs. Royall lifted her hand and soft and low the young voices chanted,
“‘Lay me to sleep in sheltering flame,
O Master of the Hidden Fire;
Wash pure my heart, and cleanse for me
My soul’s desire.
In flame of service bathe my mind,
O Master of the Hidden Fire,
That when I wake clear-eyed may be
My soul’s desire.’“
It was over, and the circle broke again into laughing, chattering groups. Lanterns were lighted, every spark of the Council Fire carefully extinguished, and then back through the woods the procession wound, laughing, talking, sometimes breaking into snatches of song, the lanterns throwing strange wavering patches of light into the dense darkness of the woods on either side.