A Son of Perdition Part 35

"But it is not," cried Don Pablo triumphantly. "Montrose owes Enistor a life. To pay that he must give his own life: he is at your father's mercy."

"Douglas will pay the debt, but not in the way you wish him to pay it."

"Enistor will enforce payment."

"Yes," said the Squire, his eyes glittering. "Now I know why I hated him the moment we met. He killed me in Chaldea: he has robbed me in England; I shall demand the payment of both debts."

"I feel the evil forces that are working in you both," said Alice wearily, "and they hurt me. The book is closed: do let me come back."

"Stay where you are and search out the future," commanded Narvaez, with a snarl of fierce command. "Search."

"I cannot see the future. It is on a higher plane where past and present are one," came the thin, tired voice, for the girl was becoming exhausted physically with the long-continued strain.

"Go to the higher plane: you can do so."

"Something stops me. There is a barrier I cannot pa.s.s. You are not permitted to know. Father and I and Douglas have to work out by our knowledge in the flesh the drama begun in Chaldea. This much is allowed: no more."

"But the danger which threatens me?"

"There are black clouds: red clouds: wicked clouds. You are cutting yourself off from the Life of G.o.d: you are isolating yourself from creation. You want to drag my father with you, out of s.p.a.ce, out of Time, out of the arms of G.o.d. Oh, it is too terrible: it is too terrible. Let me return."

"See the future," shouted Narvaez, defiant as Satan in his isolating pride.

"I cannot: I dare not: I will not. I call upon Christ for help. Save me from this wicked being, O Power of Love. Deliver me from evil, Our Father who art in Heaven."

What happened at the moment Enistor never quite knew. He saw Narvaez advance to the middle of the room, looking powerful and making defiant gestures of insane pride. Then all the strength seemed to leave him, and he dropped on the floor like a stone, becoming motionless and powerless, a mere ma.s.s of evil matter uncontrolled by his wicked will. At the same time Alice stirred, sighed, opened her eyes and looked through the dim lights to where her father gripped the mantelpiece appalled at the conquest of his dark master by some invisible power he could neither hear, nor see, nor feel.

"You wish to speak to me about Douglas, father?" asked Alice languidly, and taking up her life at the point it had ceased when Narvaez laid his wicked spell upon her. "Oh!" she rose with a gesture of repulsion as she saw the prostrate form. "Don Pablo. I would not have come if I had known he was here."

"That is all right, Alice," said Enistor, recovering his will-power and speech. "He only came a short time ago, and withdrew into the shadow while I spoke to you about Douglas."

"But I didn't see him fall. I didn't hear him fall!" stammered the girl.

"The perfume made you faint for the moment," said the Squire, taking the lamp from behind the screen. "We must postpone our talk, Alice, as the heat of the room has made Narvaez faint. Go to bed. I shall attend to him."

"Good-night," said the girl, without arguing, and touching her father's lips with her own she went away. The hour of darkness had pa.s.sed, and though she felt languid--with the strain she supposed that she had endured in the drawing-room--yet the light had returned and she felt safe.

Enistor, left alone, touched the old man, wondering how he would be able to revive him, as this was no ordinary faint. But the moment Alice left the room Narvaez sat up, apparently his usual self.

"Did The Adversary strike you down?" asked the Squire, still pale and unstrung.

"No! It was One I do not choose to name. But I defy Him! I defy Him!" He shook his fists in the air with impotent anger. "I shall win yet! I shall win yet!"

CHAPTER XVI

THE DISCIPLE OF LOVE

Next day at noon, Montrose returned to Tremore accompanied by the doctor, to be received by the housekeeper, as Mr. Enistor had gone to see Senor Narvaez, and Alice was still in bed. Knowing from Eberstein that the girl had been submitted to an ordeal, Douglas anxiously demanded if she was ill. But, much to his relief, the answer immediately rea.s.sured him.

"Ill, sir? No, sir," responded the housekeeper, who was a voluble talker, "though she did go to bed early last night with no dinner and only a gla.s.s of milk to keep her up, which isn't enough nourishment for a young thing like Miss Alice. But she was sleeping so lovely that the master said she had better sleep on. But I think she is getting up now, sir, and when she knows that you are here, sir----" the housekeeper looked significantly at the young man and departed smiling, with her sentence uncompleted. She was an old and valued servant, who quite approved of the match.

"You are sure Alice hasn't suffered?" demanded Montrose for the twentieth time, and prowling restlessly about the drawing-room.

"Nothing to speak of," answered the doctor serenely, explaining himself as he would have done to a child. "Narvaez and his pupil were permitted to go so far and no farther. They have learned what they wished to know, and I hope the knowledge will do them both good."

"What is the knowledge?"

"There is no need for you to know at present, my friend. You saw what you did see in my London house, and with that you must be content to work out your present Destiny."

"If it is a case of Destiny I am helpless, doctor."

"I think not. Certain things must happen because you put certain forces into action five thousand years ago. But such events will work out for good or bad, as you apply the Law of Love or the Law of Hate. Man makes his own Karma, but he can modify the same to a certain extent by using his will-power."

Montrose sighed. "I am so much in the dark, I don't know how to act."

"You will know how to act when the time comes, if you are true to the teaching of Christ," said Eberstein gently.

"But if you would only advise me what to do?"

"In that case you would only gain the Karma of obedience: good in itself, but less than is demanded. Your future has to do at the moment with Alice and her father and Narvaez, but if I told you the precise reasons why you have come together, you would be hampered in your actions. Watch and pray, my friend, and abide by the Law of Love. Then you will receive the guidance of the Blessed One, who is building up Himself within you."

"I shall do my best."

"That is all that is asked of you and of any one. If a man acts up to the highest ideal he can conceive, nothing more is demanded. And one word of warning, Montrose. Alice is quite ignorant of the use made of her clairvoyant powers last night. Therefore do not ask indiscreet questions."

"Do you mean to say that she does not know what she told Narvaez and her father?"

"No, she does not. Ignorance is as necessary for her as for you at present."

Montrose objected. "If you would only point out the pitfalls to both of us, doctor, we might avoid them."

"These same pitfalls are the creation of your own free-will, and of your own free-will you must avoid them," said Eberstein decisively. "Only experience will teach the necessary lesson which has to be learned, and by making yourself receptive to the Eternal Ego you can always gain the guidance of the Great One, who works through that same Ego."

The young man sighed again, for this epigrammatic teaching was so difficult and--to him--so involved that he wondered why Eberstein did not speak plainly and have done with it. Walking to the window and looking out at the dark woodland a stone's-throw away, where the trees were being tormented by a bl.u.s.tering wind, he pondered over the problem, but could find no answer thereto. After a pause, Eberstein advanced and laid a kind hand on his shoulder, reading his thoughts and pitying his perplexity.

"Our teaching is meant to stimulate the mind," he said impressively.

"Therefore hints are given rather than full explanations, and the pupil has to use his brains to expand those hints into the necessary knowledge. In this way he progresses, as what he gains by this system of instruction is thoroughly learned, which would not be the case if his path were made easier."

"I think Christ taught in the way you mention," mused Montrose. "I remember how many of His sayings puzzled me--and for the matter of that still do."

Eberstein nodded. "Regarding earthly things He spoke plainly, as in the case of giving tribute to Caesar, because people could understand. But as they were unable to comprehend heavenly things the Blessed One could only instruct them in parables, and give hints. By doing this last He roused those He spoke to into puzzling out the meaning."

"Give me an example."