"Yes—again Yourself! The only power any man or woman has ever had, or ever will have, to contend with!"
He dropped my hands, and I suppose I must have expressed some mute appeal in my upward glance at him, for the faintest shadow of a smile came on his lips.
"God be with you!" he said, softly, and then with a gentle gesture signed to me to leave him. I at once obeyed, and followed the guide Honorius, who led me back to my own room, where, without speaking a word, he closed and locked the door upon me as before. To my surprise, I found my luggage which I had left at the inn placed ready for me—and on a small dresser set in a niche of the wall which I had not noticed before, there was a plate of fruit and dry bread, with a glass of cold water. On going to look at this little refection, which was simply yet daintily set out, I saw that the dresser was really a small lift, evidently connected with the domestic offices of the house, and I concluded that this would be the means by which all my meals would be served. I did not waste much time in thinking about it, however,—I was only too glad to be allowed to remain in the House of Aselzion on any terras, and the fact that I was imprisoned under lock and key did not now trouble me. I unpacked my few things, among which were three or four favourite books,—then I sat down to my frugal repast, for which hunger provided a keen appetite. When I had finished, I took a chair to the open window and sat there, looking out on the sea. I saw my friendly little rose leaning its crimson head against the wall just below me with quite a confidential air, and it gave me a sense of companionship, otherwise the solitude was profound. The sky was darkening into night, though one or two glowing bars of deep crimson still lingered as memories of the departed sun—and a pearly radiance to the eastward showed a suggestion of the coming moon. I felt the sense of deep environing silence closing me in like a wall—and looking back over my shoulder from the window to the interior of my room it seemed full of drifting shadows, dark and impalpable. I remembered I had no candle or any other sort of light—and this gave me a passing uneasiness, but only for a moment. I could go to bed, I thought, when I was tired of watching the sea. At any rate, I would wait for the moonrise,—the scene I looked upon was divinely peaceful and beautiful,—one that a painter or poet would have revelled in—and I was content. I was not conscious of any fear,—but I did feel myself being impressed as it were and gradually overcome by the deepening stillness and great loneliness of my surroundings. 'The rule for her is solitude and silence.' So had said Aselzion. And evidently the rule was being enforced.
XIV
CROSS AND STAR
The moon rose slowly between two bars of dark cloud which gradually whitened into silver beneath her shining presence, and a scintillating pathway of diamond-like reflections began to spread itself across the sea. I remained at the window, feeling an odd disinclination to turn away into the darkness of my room. And I began to think that perhaps it was rather hard that I should be left all by myself locked up in this way;—surely I might have been allowed a light of some sort! Then I at once reproached myself for allowing the merest suggestion of a complaint to enter my mind, for, after all, I was an uninvited guest in the House of Aselzion—I was not wanted—and I remembered the order that had been issued concerning me: 'The moment she desires to leave, every facility for departure is to be granted to her.' I was much more afraid of this 'facility for departure' than I was of my present solitude, and I determined to look upon the whole adventure in the best and most cheerful light. If it was best I should be alone, then loneliness was good—if it was necessary I should be in darkness, then darkness was also agreeable to me.
Scarcely had I thus made up my mind to these conditions when my room was suddenly illumined by a soft yet effulgent radiance-and I started up in amazement, wondering where it came from. I could see no lamps or electric burners,—it was as if the walls glowed with some surface luminance. When my first surprise had passed, I was charmed and delighted with the warm and comforting brightness around me,—it rather reminded me of the electric brilliancy on the sails of the 'Dream.' I moved away from the window, leaving it open, as the night was very close and warm, and sat down at the table to read a little, but after a few minutes laid the book aside to listen to a strange whispering music that floated towards me, apparently from the sea, and thrilled me to the soul. No eloquent description could give any idea of the enthralling sweetness of the harmonies that were more BREATHED upon the air than sounded—and I became absorbed in following the rhythm of the delicious cadences as they rose and fell. Then by degrees my thoughts wandered away to Rafel Santoris,—where was he now?—in what peaceful expanse of shining waters had his fairy vessel cast anchor? I pictured him in my brain till I could almost see his face,—the broad brow,—the fearless, tender eyes and smile—and I could fancy that I heard the deep, soft accents of his voice, always so gentle when he spoke to me—me, who had half resented his influence! And a quick wave of long pent-up tenderness rose in my heart—my whole soul ran out, as it were, to greet him with outstretched arms—I knew in my own consciousness that he was more than all the world to me, and I said aloud:—"My beloved, I love you! I love you!" to the silence, almost as if I thought it could convey the words to him whom most I desired to hear them.
Then I felt how foolish and futile it was to talk to the empty air when I might have confessed myself to the real lover of my life face to face, had I been less sceptical,—less proud! Was not my very journey to the House of Aselzion a testimony of my own doubting attitude?—for I had come, as I now admitted to myself, first to make sure that Aselzion really existed—and secondly, to prove to my own satisfaction that he was truly able to impart the mystical secrets which Rafel seemed to know. I wearied myself out at last with thinking to no purpose, and closing the window I undressed and went to bed. As I lay down, the light in my room was suddenly extinguished, and all was darkness again except for the moon, which sent a clear white ray straight through the lattice, there being no curtain to shut it out. For some time I remained awake on my hard little couch, looking at this ray, and steadily refusing to allow any sense of fear or loneliness to gain the mastery over me—the music which had so enchanted me ceased—and everything was perfectly still. And by and by my eyes closed—my tired limbs relaxed,—and I fell into a sound and dreamless sleep.
When I awoke it was full morning, and the sunshine poured into my room like a shower of gold. I sprang up, full of delight that the night had passed so peacefully and that nothing strange or terrifying had occurred, though I do not know why I should have expected this. Everything seemed wonderfully fresh and beautiful in the brightness of the new day, and the very plainness of my room had a fascination greater than any amount of luxury. The only unusual thing I noticed was that the soft cold water with which my bath was supplied sparkled as though it were effervescent,—once or twice it seemed to ripple with a diamond-like foam, and it was never actually still. I watched its glittering movement for some minutes before bathing—then, feeling certain it was charged with some kind of electricity, I plunged into it without hesitation and enjoyed to the utmost the delicious sense of invigoration it gave me. When my toilet was completed and I had attired myself in a simple morning gown of white linen, as being more suitable to the warmth of the weather than the black one I had travelled in, I went to throw open my window and let in all the freshness of the sea-air, and was surprised to see a small low door open in the side of the turret, through which I discovered a winding stair leading downward. Yielding to the impulse of the moment, I descended it, and at the end found myself in an exquisite little rock garden abutting on the seashore. I could actually open a gate, and walk to the very edge of the sea. I was no longer a prisoner, then!—I could run away if I chose!
I looked about me—and smiled as I saw the impossibility of any escape. The little garden belonged exclusively to the turret, and on each side of it impassable rocks towered up almost to the height of the Chateau d'Aselzion itself, while the bit of shore on which I stood was equally hemmed in by huge boulders against which the waves had dashed for centuries without making much visible impression. Yet it was delightful to feel I was allowed some liberty and open air, and I stayed for some minutes watching the sea and revelling in the warmth of the southern sun. Then I retraced my steps slowly, looking everywhere about me as I went, to see if there was anyone near. Not a soul was in sight.