Then, like a fair white dove or delicate butterfly she rose ... she
poised herself above the bowing Ardath bloom ... anon, soaring aloft,
she floated higher.... higher! ... and ever higher, serenely and with
aerial slow ease,--till drawn into the glory of that wondrous flaming
cross whose outstretched beams seemed waiting to receive her,--she
drifted straight up wards through its very centre.... and so vanished!
...
Theos stared aghast at the glowing sky ... whither had she gone? Her
words still rang in his ears,--the warmth of her kiss still lingered on
his lips,--he loved her! ... he worshipped her! ... why, why had she
left him "lost" as she herself had said, in a world that was mere
emptiness without her? He struggled for utterance...
"Edris ... !" he whispered hoarsely--"Edris! ... My Angel-love! ...
come back! Come back ... pity me! ... forgive! ... Edris!"
His voice died in a hard sob of imploring agony,--smitten to the very
soul by a remorse greater than he could bear, his strength failed him,
and he fell senseless, face forward among the flowers of the Prophet's
field; . . flowers that, circling snowily around his dark and prostrate
form, looked like fairy garlands bordering a Poet's Grave!
PART II.--IN AL-KYRIS.
"That which hath been, is now: and that which is to be, hath
already been: . . and God requireth that which is past."
ECCLESIASTES.
CHAPTER XI.
THE MARVELLOUS CITY.
Profound silence,--profound unconsciousness,--oblivious rest! Such are
the soothing ministrations of kindly Nature to the overburdened spirit;
Nature, who in her tender wisdom and maternal solicitude will not
permit us to suffer beyond a certain limit. Excessive pain, whether it
be physical or mental, cannot last long,--and human anguish wound up to
its utmost quivering-pitch finds at the very height of desolation, a
strange hushing, Lethean calm. Even so it was with Theos
Alwyn,--drowned in the deep stillness of a merciful swoon, he had sunk,
as it were, out of life,--far out of the furthest reach or sense of
time, in some vast unsounded gulf of shadows where earth and heaven
were alike forgotten! ...
How long he lay thus he never knew,--but he was roused at last.. roused
by the pressure of something cold and sharp against his throat, . . and
on languidly opening his eyes he found himself surrounded by a small
body of men in armor, who, leaning on tall pikes which glistened
brilliantly in the full sunlight, surveyed him with looks of derisive
amusement. One of these, closer to him than the rest, and who seemed
from his dress and bearing to be some officer in authority, held
instead of a pike a short sword, the touch of whose pointed steel blade
had been the effectual means of awakening him from his lethargy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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