“What manner of vision?” demanded Menippus.
“The vision of a woman,” replied Peregrine. “Though it was but in vision I saw her, I believed her to exist in reality, hence I set out to find her. I have pursued her for over a year. Plainly, I know not truly whether she exists or no. At times I have been certain of her reality; at times the certainty has fallen from me. A moment or so agone it had left me. Now, in speaking of her again, I am very sure she lives. There is the matter in a nutshell. ’Tis a tantalizing enough quest for a man, and maybe I am a fool to pursue it. At times I see the folly very plainly, at times I see in it naught but the clearest sanity.”
Menippus drew down his eyelids. His finger-tips together he spoke smoothly.
“Presuming the quest sane, presuming it fulfilled, what think you to gain when you have found her?”
“That,” said Peregrine quietly, “will lie between her and me.” The Sage’s tone had struck strangely on his heart. It brought with it at once hope and danger. Here it is none too easy to make my meaning clear. It was as though, on the one hand, the Sage had knowledge of the truth of the quest, yet, on the other, would put hindrance in its way. The full articulation of the thought came not entirely home to Peregrine; he but scented the matter as it were from afar. The Sage’s next words brought amazement to him.
“I know the woman you seek,” he said briefly. There was no mistaking the assurance of the tone.
“You have seen her?” he cried, even as he had cried to Simon.
“Verily I have,” returned Menippus. “Now listen. Pursuit of her is of little avail; that you have fully proved. I know her dwelling. She welcomes not all men to her presence. That you have had vision of her shows me that she desires yours. There is no need to question at the moment how this may be. We, who study the riddle of the Universe, know well that there are matters which lie beyond the comprehension of ordinary mortals. Doubtless you would find it hard to understand how I should have been aware of your presence in the snow-drift without making use of my physical faculties,—in this case the sight of my eyes. Nevertheless I did know, and to my knowledge is due the fact that you are now lying upon that couch. That is to us a simple matter, the A B C of our Science. In fact I doubt me that it goes beyond A. It is a mere question of vibration, to which the customarily accepted channels of communication are a hindrance rather than a help. You will discover this in the case of the blind. Deprived of the coarser physical attributes of sight, which read merely the heavy and slow vibrations, the mind is alert and attuned to the light and quick vibrations, which are, in a sense, of spirit rather than of matter. To make my meaning clearer,—one possessed of physical sight interprets rightly the vibrations received from an object before his eyes. This object emits heavy vibrations, which reach and correspond to the physical vibrations of the eye. Every object, whether near or far, whether hidden or actually apparent, emits vibrations, since all matter is alive. But,—and this I would have you note particularly,—that which is afar and hidden emits lighter vibrations, which cannot so readily be interpreted by a human being, who is, by reason of the possession of his physical senses, endowed with coarser vibrations. This is not always the case. There are those, who, in full possession of all their physical faculties, are yet able to receive, and at times interpret, the lightest vibrations in the Universe. But this is rare. You may take it as a general rule, that a blind man is more readily sensitive to hidden objects than one in possession of his sight, more readily aware of the presence of the quick and light vibrations of the spirit world. Again, a deaf man can receive the vibrations of sound from that same world, where one in possession of his hearing is dulled to them by reason of the presence of the coarser vibrations. This, no doubt, is strange to you, nevertheless it is a fact.” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, as of one who should say all this is mere child’s play, yet it were well to give it to you.
“Candidly, I find it exceeding bewildering,” said Peregrine.
“Under my tuition the bewilderment will pass,” said Menippus indulgently. “I see you rarely endowed. You need but guidance and teaching in the matter. This I propose to give you.”