He gave back the Ardath blossom to its owner with reverent care,—and when Alwyn had as reverently put it by, he resumed:
"Your friend Villiers has offered you a perfectly logical and common-sense solution of the mystery of Ardath,—one which, if you chose to accept it, would drive you back into skepticism as easily as a strong wind blows a straw. Only see how simple the intricate problem is unravelled by this means! You, a man of ardent and imaginative temperament, made more or less unhappy by the doctrines of materialism, come to me, Heliobas, a Chaldean student of the Higher Philosophies, an individual whose supposed mysterious power and inexplicably studious way of life entitle him to be considered by the world at large an IMPOSTER!—Now don't look so indignant!"—and he laughed,—"I am merely discussing the question from the point of view that would be sure to be adopted by 'wise' modern society! Thus—I, Heliobas, the impostor, take advantage of your state of mind to throw you into a trance, in which, by occult means, you see the vision of an Angel, who bids you meet her at a place called Ardath,—and you, also, in your hypnotized condition, write a poem which you entitle 'Nourhalma.' Then I,—always playing my own little underhand game!—read you portions of 'Esdras,' and prove to you that 'Ardath' exists, while I delicately SUGGEST, if I do not absolutely COMMAND, your going thither. You go,—but I, still by magnetic power, retain my influence over you. You visit Elzear, a hermit, whom we will, for the sake of the present argument, call my accomplice,—he reads between the lines of the letter you deliver to him from me, and he understands its secret import. He continues, no matter how, your delusion. You broke your fast with him,—and surely it was easy for him to place some potent drug in the wine he gave you, which made you DREAM the rest;—nay, viewed from this standpoint, it is open to question whether you ever went to the Field of Ardath at all, but merely DREAMED you did! You see how admirably I can, with little trouble, disprove the whole story, and make myself out to be the veriest charlatan and trickster that ever duped his credulous fellow-man! How do you like my practical dissection of your new-found joys?"
Alwyn was gazing at him with puzzled and anxious eyes.
"I do not like it at all"—he murmured, in a pained tone—"It is an insidious SEMBLANCE of truth;—but I know it is not the Truth itself!"
"Why, how obstinate you are!" said Heliobas, good-humoredly, with a quick, flashing glance at him. "You insist on seeing things in a directly reverse way to that in which the world sees them! How can you be so foolish! To the world your Ardath adventure is the SEMBLANCE of truth,—and only man's opinion thereon is worth trusting as the Truth itself!"
Over the wistful, brooding thoughtfulness of Alwyn's countenance swept a sudden light of magnificent resolution.
"Heliobas, do not jest with me!" he cried passionately—"I know, better perhaps than most men, how divine things can be argued away by the jargon of tongues, till heart and brain grow weary,—I know, God help me!—how the noblest ideals of the soul can be swept down and dispersed into blank ruin, by the specious arguments of cold-blooded casuists,—but I also know, by a supreme INNER knowledge beyond all human proving, that GOD EXISTS, and with His Being exist likewise all splendors, great and small, spiritual and material,—splendors vaster than our intelligence can reach,—ideals loftier than imagination can depict! I want no proof of this save those that burn in my own individual consciousness,—I do not need a miserable taper of human reason to help me to discern the Sun! I, OF MY OWN CHOICE, PRAYER, AND HOPE, voluntarily believe in God, in Christ, in angels, in all things beautiful and pure and grand!—let the world and its ephemeral opinions wither, I will NOT be shaken down from the first step of the ladder whereon one climbs to Heaven!"
His features were radiant with fervor and feeling,—his eyes brilliant with the kindling inward light of noblest aspiration,—and Heliobas, who had watched him intently, now bent toward him with a grave gesture of the gentlest homage.
"How strong is he whom an Angel's love makes glorious!" he said—"We are partners in the same destiny, my friend,—and I have but spoken to you as the world might speak, to prepare you for opposition. The specious arguments of men confront us at every turn, in every book, in every society,—and it is not always that we are ready to meet them. As a rule, silence on all matters of personal faith is best,—let your life bear witness for you;—it shall thunder loud oracles when your mortal limbs are dumb."
He paused a moment—then went on: "You have desired to know the secret of the active and often miraculous power of the special form of religion I and my brethren follow; well, it is all contained in Christ, and Christ only. His is the only true Spiritualism in the world—there was never any before He came. We obey Christ in the simple rules he preached,—Christ according to His own enunciated wish and will. Moreover, we,—that is, our Fraternity,—received our commission from Christ Himself in person."