Part 8 (1/2)
”Speak to me,” cried Eric. ”I am half mad with the longing to hear a human voice. Tell me, if thou canst, who are these silent ones that dog my steps, and make these mountains horrible to me? Fain would I be rid of them!”
He turned to look behind him and there they were, close upon his footsteps, huddled together on the narrow shelf he had just pa.s.sed; and all of them looked at him with hungry, expectant eyes; and yet through their bodies the rocks could be distinctly seen. It was a grim sight!
The old man did not reply, but turned his head towards the silent apparitions and scrutinized them long and earnestly, then a slow smile broke over his face.
At last he spoke:
”Be not hard upon those that are dead, my son; these here find no peace because they did not receive a holy burial, nor were prayers said over their silent hearts; they felt thy coming, so they have arisen from where they lay in waiting, to follow thee. Let thy heart be soft unto them. Their presence around thee speaks in thy favour, for they try to follow only those whose conscience is without stain, for those alone can help them whose lives have been pure.”
”Who are they?” asked the young man, and the old one answered:
”They are the restless souls of those who died here amongst the mountains. They all had hopes in their hearts when they started, and dreams or ambitions; each thought himself strong enough to scale these cruel heights, but they dropped down on the way; few, very few, ever reach the top. They lose courage or weary and try to turn back; but it is difficult to go back for those who have started on these paths that lead so high.”
”Tell me, O wise man,” cried the youth, ”what mountains are these, and why did I feel that I must try to ascend them?”
”They are called the mountains of Life, my son. For some they bear also the name of the mountains of Temptation; for others they mean Toil; for others Trouble; for some they are named Redemption, and for the fewest they are called the mountains of Attainment.”
”For me what shall they be called, my father?”
”That remains to be seen, my boy,” responded the solemn voice.
”Tarry awhile beside me and I shall tell thee a few things that may be of use to thee. Thy fair face pleases me, and I wish thee well. But I am old, and my voice has no more the force as of a river in spring-time when the snows have melted; it is more like a sluggish stream over which a thick sheet of ice has been laid. But sit thee down close by me that I need not raise it overmuch.”
So saying he drew his cloak away, making room for Eric on the rock where he was resting. The waiting shapes had become fainter, and were like torn pieces of mist that had caught upon the rocks.
”But before all else, I pray thee, tell me,” said Eric, ”why thou sayest these shadows have awaited my coming; and why thou dost not thyself lead them to peace? Thou who art so wise?”
The venerable face turned to the young one with a sad smile, and the old solemn voice answered in a low tone, ”To be wise is not the same as to be good. Long ago, in the days of my youth, and later also in the years of my manhood, I was a great sinner, and many a dark unavowed act have I committed. But wise I always was, and even magic have I understood.
”There comes a time, my son, when the heart longs for peace; the white peace of solitude. Amongst men it could never be found, so I came up here; but that was only after my head had bent beneath the snow of age, after I had tasted all fruits both bitter and sweet; and this I tell thee: few are worth the eating. Yet thou shalt also eat of many; but have a care, I pray thee, and grasp not those that were best left untouched; and yet? and yet?
”When I look back I know it all had some meaning behind it--something that was but a link of one long chain, and the chain is so long that the links are but of small importance, although each link deems itself the one which holds all the chain together; and it is better it should be so, because the long chain needs each separate link. My talk is dark to thee,” added the old man, laying his hand on Eric's.
”Forgive an old man whose thoughts ramble along; seest thou, up here in this wild solitude amongst the clouds and eagles, one learns to look down upon things and to realize their value; but it is useless to begin such knowledge too soon, for we, the weary ones, need all thy joy, all thy careless happiness, we need thy efforts, thy hopes, thy dreams, thy tears; none are wasted; they all go to make one great whole! Life is long and yet it is short, and many roads there are, but they all, without exception, lead to the same end. I am very near that end now; some reach it sooner than I. I know not what thou seekest, but all men are running after the same thing, though they call it by different names, not knowing that they can grasp but its shadow, because the thing itself is G.o.d's.
”I have given it a name. I call it Happiness; but truly this I can tell thee: men know not when they have it ... they see it before them, and then they turn round and they see it far behind ... but whilst it is theirs they are blind. Dark are my words to thee, but I love thee the more, because I read within thy eyes that all I am saying is without sense to thee, dear beginner of Life.”
”But thou hast not told me,” queried Eric, ”why these phantoms hope to find salvation through me, and why with thy great wisdom thou canst do less for them than I with my foolish youth?”
Sadly the old man replied:
”Because, my son, youth and innocence have a strength that all the wisdom from over the seven seas cannot equal. Indeed, we who have lived and now look back, are far more willing to stretch out our hands in help; our hearts are larger, our patience greater, our understanding deeper; but it has thus been decreed that all this cannot be weighed against one little drop of thy pure innocence or of the faith thou hast, that removeth mountains.”
The old head bowed itself over the clasped hands, and on the long grey locks lay a mist that was silvery and l.u.s.treless, as if some one had breathed over a mirror.
The sad, tired eyes gazed with a far-off look into s.p.a.ce, following forgotten visions of long ago.
There was a deep silence which the young man did not try to break. He bowed in awe before this gaunt old figure, and longed to hear more, to drink in the wise words that fell from his lips.
Although many were quite incomprehensible to him, his instinct told him that he could learn much wisdom if he listened with all his soul.
Strange it was that such a man should call himself a sinner when such a delightful peace filled Eric's whole being as he sat there close beside him.