Nothing could move him from his resolve, so I made up my mind to leave my small luggage at the inn and walk up the steep road which I could see winding like a width of white ribbon towards the goal of my desires. A group of idle peasants watched me curiously as I spoke to the landlady and asked her to take care of my few belongings till I either sent for them or returned to fetch them, to which arrangement she readily consented. She was a buxom, pleasant little Frenchwoman, and inclined to be friendly.
"I assure you, Mademoiselle, you will return immediately!" she said, with a bright smile—"The Chateau d'Aselzion is a place where no woman is ever seen—and a lady alone!—ah, mon Dieu!—impossible! There are terrible things done there, so they say—it is a house of mystery! In the daytime it looks as it does now—dark, as though it were a prison!—but sometimes at night one sees it lit up as though it were on fire—every window full of something that shines like the sun! It is a Brotherhood that lives there,—not of the Church—ah no! Heaven forbid!—but they are rich and powerful men—and it is said they study some strange science—our traders serve them only at the outer gates and never go beyond. And in the midnight one hears the organ playing in their chapel, and there is a sound of singing on the very waves of the sea! I beg of you, Mademoiselle, think well of what you do before you go to such a place!—for they will send you away—I am sure they will send you away!"
I smiled and thanked her for her well-meant warning.
"I have a message to give to the Master of the Brotherhood," I said—"If I am not allowed to deliver it and the gate is shut in my face, I can only come back again. But I must do my best to gain an entrance if possible."
And with these words I turned away and commenced my solitary walk. I had arrived in the early afternoon and the sun was still high in the heavens,—the heat was intense and the air was absolutely still. As I climbed higher and higher, the murmuring noises of human life in the little village I had left behind me grew less and less and presently sank altogether out of hearing, and I became gradually aware of the great and solemn solitude that everywhere encompassed me. No stray sheep browsed on the burnt brown grass of the rocky height I was slowly ascending—no bird soared through the dazzling deep blue of the vacant sky. The only sound I could hear was the soft, rhythmic plash of small waves on the beach below, and an indefinite deeper murmur of the sea breaking through a cave in the far distance. There was something very grand in the silence and loneliness of the scene,—and something very pitiful too, so I thought, about my own self, toiling up the rocky path in mingled hope and fear towards that grim pile of dark stone towers and high forbidding walls, where it was just possible I might meet with but a discouraging reception. Yet with the letter from him who signed himself 'Your lover' lying against my heart, I felt I had a talisman to open doors even more closely barred. Nevertheless, my courage gave way a little when I at last stood before the heavy iron gates set in a lofty archway of stone through which I could see nothing but cavernous blackness. The road I had followed ended in a broad circular sweep opposite this archway, and a few tall pines twisted and gnarled in bough and stem, as though the full force of many storm winds had battered and bent them out of their natural shapes, were the only relief to the barrenness of the ground. An iron chain with a massive ring at the end suggested itself as the possible means of pulling a bell or otherwise attracting attention; but for some minutes I had not the boldness to handle it.
I stood gazing at the frowning portal with a sense of utter loneliness and desolation,—the quick, resistless impulse that had fired me to make the journey and which, as it were, had driven me along by its own impetus, suddenly died away into a dreary consciousness of inadequateness and folly on my own part,—and I began to reproach myself for yielding so utterly to the casual influence of one who, after all, must in a reasonable way be considered a stranger. For what was Rafel Santoris to me? Merely an old college friend of the man who for a fortnight had been my host, and with whom he chanced to renew acquaintanceship during a yachting tour. Anything more simple and utterly commonplace never occurred,—yet, here was I full of strange impressions and visions, which were possibly only the result of clever hypnotism, practised on me because the hypnotist had possibly discovered in my temperament some suitable 'subject' matter for an essay of his skill. And I had so readily succumbed to his influence as to make a journey of hundreds of miles to a place I had never heard of before on the chance of seeing a man of whom I knew nothing!—except—that, according to what Rafel Santoris had said of him, he was the follower of a great psychic Teacher whom once I had known.
Such doubtful and darkening thoughts as these, chasing one another rapidly through my brain, made me severely accuse myself of rash and unpardonable folly in all I had done or was doing,—and I was almost on the point of turning away and retracing my steps, when a sudden ray of light, not of the sun, struck itself sharply as it were before my eyes and hurt them with its blinding glitter. It was like a whip of fire lashing my hesitating mind, and it startled me into instant action. Without pausing further to think what I was about, I went straight up to the entrance of the Chateau and pulled at the iron chain. The gates swung open at once and swiftly, without sound—and I stepped into the dark passage within—whereupon they as noiselessly closed again behind me. There was no going back now,—and nerving myself to resolution, I walked quickly on through what was evidently a long corridor with a lofty arched roof of massive stone; it was dark and cool and refreshing after the great heat outside, and I saw a faint light at the end towards which I made my way. The light widened as I drew near, and an exclamation of relief and pleasure escaped me as I suddenly found myself in a picturesque quadrangle, divided into fair green lawns and parterres of flowers. Straight opposite me as I approached, a richly carved double oaken door stood wide open, enabling me to look into a vast circular domed hall, in the centre of which a fountain sent up tall silver columns of spray which fell again with a tinkling musical splash into a sunken pool bordered with white marble, where delicate pale blue water-lilies floated on the surface of the water. Enchanted by this glimpse of loveliness, I went straight on and entered without seeking the right of admission,—and then stood looking about me in wonder and admiration. If this was the House of Aselzion, where such difficult lessons had to be learned and such trying ordeals had to be faced, it certainly did not seem like a house of penance and mortification but rather of luxury. Exquisite white marble statues were set around the hall in various niches between banked-up masses of roses and other blossoms—many of them perfect copies of the classic models, and all expressing either strength and resolution, or beauty and repose. And most wonderful of all was the light, that poured in from the high dome—I could have said with truth that it was like that 'light which never was on sea or land.' It was not the light of the sun, but something more softened and more intense, and was totally indescribable.
Fascinated by the restful charm of my surroundings, I seated myself on a marble bench near the fountain and watched the sparkle of the water as it rose in rainbow radiance and fell again into the darker shadows of the pool,—and I had for a moment lost myself in a kind of waking dream,—so that I started with a shock of something like terror when I suddenly perceived a figure approaching me,—that of a man, clothed in white garments fashioned somewhat after the monastic type, yet hardly to be called a monk's dress, though he wore a sort of hood or cowl pulled partially over his face. My heart almost stopped beating and I could scarcely breathe for nervous fear as he came towards me with an absolutely noiseless tread,—he appeared to be young, and his eyes, dark and luminous, looked at me kindly and, as I fancied, with a touch of pity.
"You are seeking the Master?" he enquired, in a gentle voice—"He has instructed me to receive you, and when you have rested for an hour, to take you to his presence."
I had risen as he spoke, and his quiet manner helped me to recover myself a little.