“How can that be, father?” I said, and raised my eyes with the question;
for I had been listening with downbent head, aware of nothing but the
voice of Adam.
He was gone; in my ears was nought but the sounding silence of the
swift-flowing waters. I stretched forth my hands to find him, but no
answering touch met their seeking. I was alone--alone in the land of
dreams! To myself I seemed wide awake, but I believed I was in a dream,
because he had told me so.
Even in a dream, however, the dreamer must do something! he cannot sit
down and refuse to stir until the dream grow weary of him and depart: I
took up my wandering, and went on.
Many channels I crossed, and came to a wider space of rock; there,
dreaming I was weary, I laid myself down, and longed to be awake.
I was about to rise and resume my journey, when I discovered that I lay
beside a pit in the rock, whose mouth was like that of a grave. It was
deep and dark; I could see no bottom.
Now in the dreams of my childhood I had found that a fall invariably
woke me, and would, therefore, when desiring to discontinue a dream,
seek some eminence whence to cast myself down that I might wake: with
one glance at the peaceful heavens, and one at the rushing waters, I
rolled myself over the edge of the pit.
For a moment consciousness left me. When it returned, I stood in the
garret of my own house, in the little wooden chamber of the cowl and the
mirror.
Unspeakable despair, hopelessness blank and dreary, invaded me with the
knowledge: between me and my Lona lay an abyss impassable! stretched a
distance no chain could measure! Space and Time and Mode of Being, as
with walls of adamant unscalable, impenetrable, shut me in from that
gulf! True, it might yet be in my power to pass again through the door
of light, and journey back to the chamber of the dead; and if so, I was
parted from that chamber only by a wide heath, and by the pale,
starry night betwixt me and the sun, which alone could open for me the
mirror-door, and was now far away on the other side of the world! but an
immeasurably wider gulf sank between us in this--that she was asleep and
I was awake! that I was no longer worthy to share with her that sleep,
and could no longer hope to awake from it with her! For truly I was much
to blame: I had fled from my dream! The dream was not of my making,
any more than was my life: I ought to have seen it to the end! and in
fleeing from it, I had left the holy sleep itself behind me!--I would go
back to Adam, tell him the truth, and bow to his decree!
I crept to my chamber, threw myself on my bed, and passed a dreamless
night.
I rose, and listlessly sought the library. On the way I met no one; the
house seemed dead. I sat down with a book to await the noontide: not
a sentence could I understand! The mutilated manuscript offered itself
from the masked door: the sight of it sickened me; what to me was the
princess with her devilry!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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