Ardath | Page 6

lightning strips bark from a tree.
"I was told," he continued after a pause, during which he had apparently considered and prepared his words, "that you were chiefly known in Paris as being the possessor of some mysterious internal force--call it magnetic, hypnotic, or spiritual, as you please--which, though perfectly inexplicable, was yet plainly manifested and evident to all who placed themselves under your influence. Moreover, that by this force you were able to deal scientifically and practically with the active principle of intelligence in man, to such an extent that you could, in some miraculous way, disentangle the knots of toil and perplexity in an over-taxed brain, and restore to it its pristine vitality and vigor. Is this true? If so, exert your power upon me,--for something, I know not what, has of late frozen up the once overflowing fountain of my thoughts, and I have lost all working ability. When a man can no longer work, it were best he should die, only unfortunately I cannot die unless I kill myself,--which it is possible I may do ere long. But in the meantime,"--he hesitated a moment, then went on, "in the meantime, I have a strong wish to be deluded--I use the word advisedly, and repeat it--DELUDED into an imaginary happiness, though I am aware that as an agnostic and searcher after truth--truth absolute, truth positive--such a desire on my part seems even to myself inconsistent and unreasonable. Still I confess to having it; and therein, I know, I betray the weakness of my nature. It may be that I am tired "--and he passed his hand across his brow with a troubled gesture--"or puzzled by the infinite, incurable distress of all living things. Perhaps I am growing mad!--who knows!--but whatever my condition, you,--if report be correct,--have the magic skill to ravish the mind away from its troubles and transport it to a radiant Elysium of sweet illusions and ethereal ecstasies. Do this for me, as you have done it for others, and whatever payment you demand, whether in gold or gratitude, shall be yours."
He ceased; the wind howled furiously outside, flinging gusty dashes of rain against the one window of the room, a tall arched casement that clattered noisily with every blow inflicted upon it by the storm. Heliobas gave him a swift, searching glance, half pitying, half disdainful.
"Haschisch or opium should serve your turn," he said curtly. "I know of no other means whereby to temporarily still the clamorings of conscience."
Alwyn flushed darkly. "Conscience!" he began in rather a resentful tone,
"Aye, conscience!" repeated Heliobas firmly. "There is such a thing. Do you profess to be wholly without it?"
Alwyn deigned no reply--the ironical bluntness of the question annoyed him.
"You have formed a very unjust opinion of me, Mr. Alwyn," continued Heliobas, "an opinion which neither honors your courtesy nor your intellect--pardon me for saying so. You ask me to 'mock' and 'delude' you as if it were my custom and delight to make dupes of my suffering fellow-creatures! You come to me as though I were a mesmerist or magnetizer such as you can hire for a few guineas in any civilized city in Europe--nay, I doubt not but that you consider me that kind of so-called 'spiritualist' whose enlightened intelligence and heaven-aspiring aims are demonstrated in the turning of tables and general furniture-gyration. I am, however, hopelessly deficient in such knowledge. I should make a most unsatisfactory conjurer! Moreover, whatever you may have heard concerning me in Paris, you must remember I am in Paris no longer. I am a monk, as you see, devoted to my vocation; I am completely severed from the world, and my duties and occupations in the present are widely different to those which employed me in the past. Then I gave what aid I could to those who honestly needed it and sought it without prejudice or personal distrust; but now my work among men is finished, and I practice my science, such as it is, on others no more, except in very rare and special cases."
Alwyn heard, and the lines of his face hardened into an expression of frigid hauteur.
"I suppose I am to understand by this that you will do nothing for me?" he said stiffly.
"Why, what CAN I do?" returned Heliobas, smiling a little. "All you want--so you say--is a brief forgetfulness of your troubles. Well, that is easily obtainable through certain narcotics, if you choose to employ them and take the risk of their injurious action on your bodily system. You can drug your brain and thereby fill it with drowsy suggestions of ideas--of course they would only he SUGGESTIONS, and very vague and indefinite ones too, still they might be pleasant enough to absorb and repress bitter memories for a time. As for me, my poor