“My earthly master,” she made answer, “is one Alric, the grandson of Emil, who was called the wise man of Damascus.”
“It is well, oh spirit. And although now, thou dost abide in a clay tenement, that the humanity of this generation, name Miriam, the Israelitish maiden, I know full well that thou, the soul, the life principal, can in memory go so far back, through eons of time, that its mention would be meaningless to the world of to-day; yet, because thou hast responded to my power, I know, oh spirit, that we have met before, that we came close in love, or hate, and that in the evolution of law, and order, we have met again. Tell me of that time. Speak of our past, oh spirit, it is my will.”
“My name was Gweneth,” answered a voice (that was not Miriam’s voice at all). “In that fleshly captivity I abode far to the westward. My land was over many leagues of immeasureable water. The nation, powerful then, is forgotten; its people are dust; its cities buried in the bowels of the earth.
“You were my father’s favorite knight—and his two daughters loved you; you were bold, and wooed them both in secret, and apart; but one that watched, made speed to tell the King! And it was so grave a crime that naught but life, could be its expiation, and yet, you had said no word; had only looked into her eyes and mine.
“The day of doom came, and all were gathered to see the archer twang his bow, and mark how surely the sharp arrow should find your heart; but they who watched, saw a stranger sight. Behold! one arrow did set free three souls.
“The winds of destiny parted us asunder; and through a dreary, dreary length of time, have I wandered. A myriad times have I been born, and lived, and died, and never in this infinite migration once beheld the soul I sought, until in Egypt’s land, a slave, a bondmaid, I serve my sister now the Princess Hatsu. I kneel, to do the bidding of my father’s knight who is called Alric now.”
“It is well, sweet Gweneth, we are met again. Now tell me all thou dost know concerning the life of Hatsu the Egyptian Princess?”
“Alas, beloved, thou canst gain no secret knowledge concerning the Princess Hatsu from me, for the God to whom Miriam, the Israelitish maiden, prays is mightier than all the gods of Egypt. All thought, beloved, is of the soul, and I, Gweneth, dare not approach to read what is written in the mind of this Heaven-guarded maid, Miriam.”
An exclamation of irritation escaped from Alric’s lips; and in that moment Miriam stirred, as one does who is about to awake; but he hastily made some passes above her head with his hand, and once more acknowledging his hypnotic power, she grew still.
“Come, sweet Gweneth,” he said gently, “time flies and thou must follow Hatsu on her way. Tell me what thou seest?”