Hard on twenty years have gone by since that night of Leo's
vision— the most awful years, perhaps, which were ever endured by
men—twenty years of search and hardship ending in soul-shaking
wonder and amazement.
My death is very near to me, and of this I am glad, for I desire
to pursue the quest in other realms, as it has been promised to me
that I shall do. I desire to learn the beginning and the end of the
spiritual drama of which it has been my strange lot to read some
pages upon earth.
I, Ludwig Horace Holly, have been very ill; they carried me,
more dead than alive, down those mountains whose lowest slopes I
can see from my window, for I write this on the northern frontiers
of India. Indeed any other man had long since perished, but Destiny
kept my breath in me, perhaps that a record might remain. I, must
bide here a month or two till I am strong enough to travel
homewards, for I have a fancy to die in the place where I was born.
So while I have strength I will put the story down, or at least
those parts of it that are most essential, for much can, or at any
rate must, be omitted. I shrink from attempting too long a book,
though my notes and memory would furnish me with sufficient
material for volumes.
I will begin with the Vision.
After Leo Vincey and I came back from Africa in 1885, desiring
solitude, which indeed we needed sorely to recover from the fearful
shock we had experienced, and to give us time and opportunity to
think, we went to an old house upon the shores of Cumberland that
has belonged to my family for many generations. This house, unless
somebody has taken it believing me to be dead, is still my property
and thither I travel to die.
Those whose eyes read the words I write, if any should ever read
them, may ask—What shock?
Well, I am Horace Holly, and my companion, my beloved friend, my
son in the spirit whom I reared from infancy was—nay, is—Leo
We are those men who, following an ancient clue, travelled to
the Caves of Kor in Central Africa, and there discovered her whom
we sought, the immortal She-who-must-be-obeyed. In Leo she
found her love, that re-born Kallikrates, the Grecian priest of
Isis whom some two thousand years before she had slain in her
jealous rage, thus executing on him the judgment of the angry
goddess. In her also I found the divinity whom I was doomed to
worship from afar, not with the flesh, for that is all lost and
gone from me, but, what is sorer still, because its burden is
undying, with the will and soul which animate a man throughout the
countless eons of his being. The flesh dies, or at least it
changes, and its passions pass, but that other passion of the
spirit—that longing for oneness—is undying as itself.
What crime have I committed that this sore punishment should be
laid upon me? Yet, in truth, is it a punishment? May it not prove
to be but that black and terrible Gate which leads to the joyous
palace of Rewards? She swore that I should ever be her friend and
his and dwell with them eternally, and I believe her.
For how many winters did we wander among the icy hills and
deserts! Still, at length, the Messenger came and led us to the
Mountain, and on the Mountain we found the Shrine, and in the
Shrine the Spirit. May not these things be an allegory prepared for
our instruction? I will take comfort. I will hope that it is so.
Nay, I am sure that it is so.
It will be remembered that in Kor we found the immortal woman.
There before the flashing rays and vapours of the Pillar of Life
she declared her mystic love, and then in our very sight was swept
to a doom so horrible that even now, after all which has been and
gone, I shiver at its recollection. Yet what were Ayesha's last
words? "Forget me not … have pity on my shame. I die not.
I shall come again and shall once more be beautiful. I swear it—it
Well, I cannot set out that history afresh. Moreover it is
written; the man whom I trusted in the matter did not fail me, and
the book he made of it seems to be known throughout the world, for
I have found it here in English, yes, and read it first translated
into Hindostani. To it then I refer the curious.
In that house upon the desolate sea-shore of Cumberland, we
dwelt a year, mourning the lost, seeking an avenue by which it
might be found again and discovering none. Here our strength came
back to us, and Leo's hair, that had been whitened in the horror of
the Caves, grew again from grey to golden. His beauty returned to
him also, so that his face was as it had been, only purified and
Well I remember that night—and the hour of illumination. We were
heart-broken, we were in despair. We sought signs and could find
none. The dead remained dead to us and no answer came to all our
It was a sullen August evening, and after we had dined we walked
upon the shore, listening to the slow surge of the waves and
watching the lightning flicker from the bosom of a distant cloud.
In silence we walked, till at last Leo groaned—it was more of a sob
than a groan— and clasped my arm.
"I can bear it no longer, Horace," he said—for so he called me
now—"I am in torment. The desire to see Ayesha once more saps my
brain. Without hope I shall go quite mad. And I am strong, I may
live another fifty years."
"What then can you do?" I asked.
"I can take a short road to knowledge—or to peace," he answered
solemnly, "I can die, and die I will—yes, tonight."
I turned upon him angrily, for his words filled me with
"Leo, you are a coward!" I said. "Cannot you bear your part of
pain as —others do?"
"You mean as you do, Horace," he answered with a dreary laugh,
"for on you also the curse lies—with less cause. Well, you are
stronger than I am, and more tough; perhaps because you have lived
longer. No, I cannot bear it. I will die."
"It is a crime," I said, "the greatest insult you can offer to
the Power that made you, to cast back its gift of life as a thing
outworn, contemptible and despised. A crime, I say, which will
bring with it worse punishment than any you can dream; perhaps even
the punishment of everlasting separation."
"Does a man stretched in some torture-den commit a crime if he
snatches a knife and kills himself, Horace? Perhaps; but surely
that sin should find forgiveness—if torn flesh and quivering nerves
may plead for mercy. I am such a man, and I will use that knife and
take my chance. She is dead, and in death at least I shall be
"Why so, Leo? For aught you know Ayesha may be living."
"No; for then she would have given me some sign. My mind is made
up, so talk no more, or, if talk we must, let it be of other
Then I pleaded with him, though with little hope, for I saw that
what I had feared for long was come to pass. Leo was mad: shock and
sorrow had destroyed his reason. Were it not so, he, in his own way
a very religious man, one who held, as I knew, strict opinions on
such matters, would never have purposed to commit the wickedness of
"Leo," I said, "are you so heartless that you would leave me
here alone? Do you pay me thus for all my love and care, and wish
to drive me to my death? Do so if you will, and my blood be on your
"Your blood! Why your blood, Horace?"
"Because that road is broad and two can travel it. We have lived
long years together and together endured much; I am sure that we
shall not be long parted."
Then the tables were turned and he grew afraid for me. But I
only answered, "If you die I tell you that I shall die also. It
will certainly kill me."
So Leo gave way. "Well," he exclaimed suddenly, "I promise you
it shall not be to-night. Let us give life another chance."
"Good," I answered; but I went to my bed full of fear. For I was
certain that this desire of death, having once taken hold of him,
would grow and grow, until at length it became too strong, and
then— then I should wither and die who could not live on alone. In
my despair I threw out my soul towards that of her who was
"Ayesha!" I cried, "if you have any power, if in any way it is
permitted, show that you still live, and save your lover from this
sin and me from a broken heart. Have pity on his sorrow and breathe
hope into his spirit, for without hope Leo cannot live, and without
him I shall not live."
Then, worn out, I slept.
I was aroused by the voice of Leo speaking to me in low, excited
tones through the darkness.
"Horace," he said, "Horace, my friend, my father, listen!"
In an instant I was wide awake, every nerve and fibre of me, for
the tones of his voice told me that something had happened which
bore upon our destinies.
"Let me light a candle first," I said.
"Never mind the candle, Horace; I would rather speak in the
dark. I went to sleep, and I dreamed the most vivid dream that ever
came to me. I seemed to stand under the vault of heaven, it was
black, black, not a star shone in it, and a great loneliness
possessed me. Then suddenly high up in the vault, miles and miles
away, I saw a little light and thought that a planet had appeared
to keep me company. The light began to descend slowly, like a
floating flake of fire. Down it sank, and down and down, till it
was but just above me, and I perceived that it was shaped like a
tongue or fan of flame. At the height of my head from the ground it
stopped and stood steady, and by its ghostly radiance I saw that
beneath was the shape of a woman and that the flame burned upon her
forehead. The radiance gathered strength and now I saw the
"Horace, it was Ayesha herself, her eyes, her lovely face, her
cloudy hair, and she looked at me sadly, reproachfully, I thought,
as one might who says, 'Why did you doubt?'
"I tried to speak to her but my lips were dumb. I tried to
advance and to embrace her, my arms would not move. There was a
barrier between us. She lifted her hand and beckoned as though
bidding me to follow her.
"Then she glided away, and, Horace, my spirit seemed to loose
itself from the body and to be given the power to follow. We passed
swiftly eastward, over lands and seas, and—I knew the road. At one
point she paused and I looked downwards. Beneath, shining in the
moonlight, appeared the ruined palaces of Kor, and there not far
away was the gulf we trod together.
"Onward above the marshes, and now we stood upon the Ethiopian's
Head, and gathered round, watching us earnestly, were the faces of
the Arabs, our companions who drowned in the sea beneath. Job was
among them also, and he smiled at me sadly and shook his head, as
though he wished to accompany us and could not.
"Across the sea again, across the sandy deserts, across more
sea, and the shores of India lay beneath us. Then northward, ever
northward, above the plains, till we reached a place of mountains
capped with eternal snow. We passed them and stayed for an instant
above a building set upon the brow of a plateau. It was a
monastery, for old monks droned prayers upon its terrace. I shall
know it again, for it is built in the shape of a half-moon and in
front of it sits the gigantic, ruined statue of a god who gazes
everlastingly across the desert. I knew, how I cannot say, that now
we were far past the furthest borders of Thibet and that in front
of us lay untrodden lands. More mountains stretched beyond that
desert, a sea of snowy peaks, hundreds and hundreds of them.
"Near to the monastery, jutting out into the plain like some
rocky headland, rose a solitary hill, higher than all behind. We
stood upon its snowy crest and waited, till presently, above the
mountains and the desert at our feet shot a sudden beam of light
that beat upon us like some signal flashed across the sea. On we
went, floating down the beam—on over the desert and the mountains,
across a great flat land beyond, in which were many villages and a
city on a mound, till we lit upon a towering peak. Then I saw that
this peak was loop-shaped like the symbol of Life of the
Egyptians—the crux-ansata—and supported by a lava stem
hundreds of feet in height. Also I saw that the fire which shone
through it rose from the crater of a volcano beyond. Upon the very
crest of this loop we rested a while, till the Shadow of Ayesha
pointed downward with its hand, smiled and vanished. Then I
"Horace, I tell you that the sign has come to us."
His voice died away in the darkness, but I sat still, brooding
over what I had heard. Leo groped his way to me and, seizing my
arm, shook it.
"Are you asleep?" he asked angrily. "Speak, man, speak!"
"No," I answered, "never was I more awake. Give me time."
Then I rose, and going to the open window, drew up the blind and
stood there staring at the sky, which grew pearl-hued with the
first faint tinge of dawn. Leo came also and leant upon the
window-sill, and I could feel that his body was trembling as though
with cold. Clearly he was much moved.
"You talk of a sign," I said to him, "but in your sign I see
nothing but a wild dream."
"It was no dream," he broke in fiercely; "it was a vision."
"A vision then if you will, but there are visions true and
false, and how can we know that this is true? Listen, Leo. What is
there in all that wonderful tale which could not have been
fashioned in your own brain, distraught as it is almost to madness
with your sorrow and your longings? You dreamed that you were alone
in the vast universe. Well, is not every living creature thus
alone? You dreamed that the shadowy shape of Ayesha came to you.
Has it ever left your side? You dreamed that she led you over sea
and land, past places haunted by your memory, above the mysterious
mountains of the Unknown to an undiscovered peak. Does she not thus
lead you through life to that peak which lies beyond the Gates of
Death? You dreamed——"
"Oh! no more of it," he exclaimed. "What I saw, I saw, and that
I shall follow. Think as you will, Horace, and do what you will.
To-morrow I start for India, with you if you choose to come; if
not, without you."
"You speak roughly, Leo," I said. "You forget that I
have had no sign, and that the nightmare of a man so near to
insanity that but a few hours ago he was determined upon suicide,
will be a poor staff to lean on when we are perishing in the snows
of Central Asia. A mixed vision, this of yours, Leo, with its
mountain peak shaped like a crux-ansata and the rest. Do
you suggest that Ayesha is re- incarnated in Central Asia—as a
female Grand Lama or something of that sort?"
"I never thought of it, but why not?" asked Leo quietly. "Do you
remember a certain scene in the Caves of Kor yonder, when the
living looked upon the dead, and dead and living were the same? And
do you remember what Ayesha swore, that she would come again—yes,
to this world; and how could that be except by re-birth, or, what
is the same thing, by the transmigration of the spirit?"
I did not answer this argument. I was struggling with
"No sign has come to me," I said, "and yet I have had a part in
the play, humble enough, I admit, and I believe that I have still a
"No," he said, "no sign has come to you. I wish that it had. Oh!
how I wish you could be convinced as I am, Horace!"
Then we were silent for a long while, silent, with our eyes
fixed upon the sky.
It was a stormy dawn. Clouds in fantastic masses hung upon the
ocean. One of them was like a great mountain, and we watched it
idly. It changed its shape, the crest of it grew hollow like a
crater. From this crater sprang a projecting cloud, a rough pillar
with a knob or lump resting on its top. Suddenly the rays of the
risen sun struck upon this mountain and the column and they turned
white like snow. Then as though melted by those fiery arrows, the
centre of the excrescence above the pillar thinned out and
vanished, leaving an enormous loop of inky cloud.
"Look," said Leo in a low, frightened voice, "that is the shape
of the mountain which I saw in my vision. There upon it is the
black loop, and there through it shines the fire. It would seem
that the sign is for both of us, Horace."
I looked and looked again till presently the vast loop vanished
into the blue of heaven. Then I turned and said—"I will come with
you to Central Asia, Leo."