Ardath | Page 6

as spiritualism."
"Neither can I," returned Heliobas, with perfect good-humor,
"according to the generally accepted meaning of the term. Pray go on,
Mr. Alwyn!"
Alwyn looked at him, a little puzzled and uncertain how to proceed. A
curious sense of irritation was growing up in his mind against this
monk with the grand head and flashing eyes--eyes that seemed to strip
bare his innermost thoughts, as 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