“ Each individual was encircled in a halo of shimmering light."'— See page 18, 


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Masked Prophet 

©tie’s 1b(D5cn Self 


A Romance m Two Lives — Here and Hereafter 



COLN. JOHN BOWLES 

AUTHOR OF “stormy PETREL,’* ETC., ETC. 



Caxton Company 
NEW YORK 



Copyrighted 


BY 


JOHN BOWLES, 

1895. 

All Rights Reserved. 


TO the broad and liberal minded Reader wherever found 
this modest little bdok is respectfully dedicated, with a 
hope that something it may contain will aid in 
more firmly establishing the habit of granting 
unto all men evett the smallest rights 
and privileges claimed for ourselves. 






















PREFACE, 


The first chapters of this story were published in “ The Cosmo- 
politan Magazine ” under the title of “ A Romance of an Hour,” 
and met with such flattering commendation that I was induced to 
enlarge, continue, and publish the story in its present form, hoping 
in a measure to meet the expectations of the early friends, as well 
as to please any readers into whose hands it may chance to 
fall. 

The author has striven to keep clearly within the scope of scien- 
tific research, and of known, if not well-known laws and facts. 
There is a very serious motive in the publication of this little book 
beyond the mere money return it may bring, which for the present 
will be left for discovery, by reading between the lines, if not found 
in the open page. 


Jno. Bowles. 







great nation. He was in time for the morning 
rehearsal of nature’s everlasting symphony ; bird 
and bee humming in wondrous harmony with 
rustling leaf, bud and blossom. He paused at 
the base of a pyramid of wild-rose brambles, and. 


6 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


gazing at the only open blossom on the topmost 
branch, he said : “ Yes, it is always so ; the most 
tempting things are just beyond our reach; but, 
in spite of your apparent security I must capture 
you, my royal beauty.” And springing up 
lightly he grasped the thorny stem and the 
prize was his. 

What cared he for the wound on his finger? 
Had he not secured the rose, this rare and latest 
masterpiece of nature’s craft ? 

He sat down at the base of a majestic oak 
and mused, intently gazing the while at the 
flower and then at the crimson drop which was 
its price. 

He was what the world calls a dreamer. His 
Greek profile, light-brown beard and mustache, 
deep-blue eyes and high forehead told of the 
mingled temperaments of poet, philosopher and 
artist, each striving for the mastery. One 
might suspect a lack of the sterner practical 
qualities, perhaps ; j^et the nature of this man 
was, after all, too practical to soar far away 
from the physical facts of his environment. 

But this morning he must soar. He was un- 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


7 


der a strange spell of enchantment. Last night 
there appeared to him in his dreams a vision 
which had frequently come of late, and which 
left always for days a strange path of light upon 
this commonplace life. It was the vision of a 
beautiful girl. With strange vividness he saw 
her last night. The touch of her hand seemed 
to lift him above earthly experiences. The 
smouldering embers of divine aspiration kindled 
under the light of her glance. If he could al- 
ways feel thus ! What would matter the de- 
feats and disappointments of life ! So it was 
that this morning he felt an impatient longing 
to pierce beyond this material veil to the eternal 
verities which are just behind it. 

As he drank the perfume of the rose he asked 
himself : 

“ What is it ? What is this fragrance ? 
With enlarged vision could we see it ? Do par- 
ticles of sublimated matter assume shapes fan- 
tastic ? or, as is more likely, do they appear in 
the form of the parent, as semi-spiritual roses ? 

“ And thou, too, O ruby drop, tell me of 
yourself and the shapes divine which make up 


8 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


your royal coloring. Is it possible that you, too, 
are composed of atoms fashioned after the 
Divine Prototype ? Do you bear the image of 
man in some semi-spiritual resemblance ? ” 

As he mused thus he became gradually con- 
scious, without surprise, that he was in the pres- 
ence of a vast multitude of people, beings like 
himself, but who were swaying to and fro in the 
wild tumult of despair which follows a great 
calamity. So might Lisbon have looked the 
moment after the earth yawned, or Atlantis 
when in the throes of cataclysmic disaster. 
There were wild prayers, entreaties, to him to 
save them. Why were they addressed to him ? 

Gradually the truth was borne in upon his 
consciousness that these beings were a part of 
himself. His organism was their universe, and 
beyond its limits they had no power to conceive 
of existence. The prick of the thorn was to 
them a cataclysm — a wild upheaval which threw 
them open to an environment to which they 
were not adapted and in which they must inevi- 
tably perish. He heard them petitioning him 
with self-accusing prayers to save them from his 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


9 


just wrath, which no doubt their sins had pro- 
voked. How could he reach them ; how make 
them understand that this misfortune was not 
retributive, but had its origin in complications 
far beyond their little universe ? 

Suddenly there appeared two beings, evidently 
of a different type, bright, radiant, ineffable — a 
man with the face of a sage leading by the hand 
a fair creature, seemingly his daughter. It 
needed but one glance to see that she was the 
same, the lovely visitant of his dreams. 

With an air of calm authority the man spoke, 
and his words brought instant peace to the dis- 
tracted and disordered multitude. 

“ My children,” he said, “ be not dismayed, be 
patient and wait. You are in the hands of law 
and of love ; not at the mercy of caprice and 
of anger. I know whereof I speak, and I tell 
you we may trust the everlasting and eternal 
Power to heal every wound. You are in divine 
keeping and all is well. Each of you has a duty 
to perform in the work of repair — let each see 
that he does it faithfully and well. The reward 
will be swift and sure.” Then turning, he said : 


lO 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


“ You are no doubt surprised at what you have 
seen. You have had a glimpse of a hitherto un- 
suspected world. Come with me and I wdl 
reveal more of its marvelous economy.” 

In another moment they found themselves in 
a region of strange charm and beauty. No 
radiant sun seemed to shine from the zenith of 
its heaven, but a soft diffused light illumined 
the atmosphere. 

“ This,” said the sage, “ is as it were the Dome 
of the Temple. It is the highest part of the or- 
ganism, the seat of the directive energies which 
control the rest. In other words, you are at this 
moment exploring the recesses of your own 
brain. Among the myriads of beings composing 
your organism, only the bravest and strongest 
reach this supreme elevation and participate in 
these exalted functions, and there again they 
are sifted and classified according to their fitness 
for the higher or lower activities indicated in 
your system of knowledge by the ‘ white ’ and 
the ‘ gray.’ I shall use another of your terms to 
make you comprehend the process by which 
these changes are accomplished. It is by ‘ selec- 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 1 j 

tion.’ Selection determines everything. Every 
atom or being becomes a part of some one of 
the various organs or activities of your organ- 
ism by means of a preference, inclination or af- 
finity, which ranges it with an absolute fidelity to 
its essential nature. There are no arbitrary rul- 
ings in creation, be it great or small, and the 
world you are now observing is subject to the 
identical law which controls the suns in their 
courses.” 

He who was a guest in this strange world 
looked about him with an eager curiosity, listen- 
ing the while to his venerable guide. 

The atmosphere of the place produced a sin- 
gular exaltation of spirit. He could remember 
only on one or two occasions having for one 
brief moment attained the sort of joy he now 
experienced. The dross of life seemed to have 
dropped away. He could not imagine the exist- 
ence of anything ignoble. 

“ Ah ! ” he exclaimed, drawing in a deep in- 
spiration of the strange ether, “ this is worth 
living.” 

The old man smiled and said : ‘‘ My son, you 


12 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


are in your native air. I knew that you were 
suited to it and that is the reason I conducted 
you hither. Some could not breathe in this 
region of quickened forces, but all that involves 
much you cannot understand now. My daughter 
has long watched you,” he added, smiling again. 
“Come here, Aleita.” The beautiful girl was at 
his side in a moment. He looked at her fixedly 
for only an instant and then went on : “You 
were right, my dear girl. Your friend is well 
fitted to understand these mysteries, and you 
shall guide his feet while I lead his thought to a 
new understanding of the secrets of his own 
being. I am Alta,” he said, turning to his com- 
panion, “and you may call me by that name, if 
you will.” 

“ That will indeed be a privilege,” was the rev- 
erent reply. “ Sire, a moment ago you called 
me, ‘ son.’ It had a thrilling sweetness to me. 
Will you call me so again and ever after ? ” 

Alta smiled. “ Yes, I understand, you love her. 
That is but natural, Because she is the other 
half of your own soul, and she loves you under 
the same law of necessity.” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


13 


“ Loves me ! ” gasped the youth. “ Aleita, tell 
me, is this so ? Can it be that there is such 
happiness for me ? ” 

“Yes,” she said, with simple frankness, “I 
love you ; ” and, as if proud of the self-surren- 
der, she yielded to the embrace of his enfolding 
arms, lifting a face which shone with a new and 
strange brightness as she rested contentedly 
there. 

A wondrous calm pervaded the soul of Regi- 
nald as, with Aleita’s hand in his, they wandered 
through the shining recesses, the crystalline 
labyrinths of this strange place. 

“You might be here a thousand years,” said 
Alta, “ and yet not exhaust the marvels of this 
place. There are myriads of departments, each 
conducted with such absolute precision, a micro- 
scope of a million diameters would not detect a 
flaw in the work. The nature of these activi- 
ties I cannot explain to you, but their import is 
tremendous. You see those messengers speed- 
ing with the fleetness of light from one point to 
another ? They bear messages to and from 
every remote part of your being, and bring re- 


14 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


ports of all coming within the cognizance of 
your sense and perception. 

“ Do you observe a change in the conditions ? 
There is some exciting cause, which gives in- 
creased brilliancy to the light and a peculiar 
rarity to the ether. This is sometimes pro- 
duced by the approach of another organism to 
which this one is allied ; but in this case the 
cause is different, as I will explain to you later. 
Lean on me, my son,” he said, looking at his 
companion intently. 

“ I do feel a little faint,” said Reginald, ac- 
cepting the preferred support. He watched 
Aleita, who, in a sort of impatient rapture, 
floated on beyond them, and seemed melting 
into the strange fantastic beauty of the scene. 
The light dazzled with its growing intensity, 
augmented now by electric coruscations. The 
changing variety of beautiful form and color 
fatigued while it charmed. The ether pulsated 
in a wild rush of waves whi^h were color to the 
eye, music to the ear and fragrance to the sense. 
Reginald felt as if he were suffocating from ex- 
cess of perception, and grasping his forehead 


THE MASKED PROPHET. I5 

with both hands, uttered a cry and fell at Alta’s 
feet in a swoon. 

In another moment he opened his eyes upon 
the familiar forest. There were the pines and 
oaks, and amono- the brown needles and leaves 
at his feet lay the rose he had plucked. Alta 
was holding his hand, and ah ! wonder of won- 
ders ! Aleita was murmuring sweet words of ten- 
derness as she bathed his head with water from 
the brook. “Have I dreamed?” he said, 
“ such a strange place ! ” 

“ No,” said Alta gravely, “ you have not 
dreamed. What you saw is reality. You have 
looked in upon yourself, and have some idea 
now of the complexity of your own being. You 
have learned that the fate of countless multi- 
tudes hangs upon your every thought and act ; 
that your volition determines their destiny, 
while you in turn are made wretched if any one 
of them fails to perform his part in the economy 
of your organism. The interdependence is as in- 
timate as it is possible to be ; for, in fact, you are 
they, and they are you. You have looked into 
the recesses of your own brain and have seen, if 


i6 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


you have not understood, the marvelous work- 
ings of its processes. Do you not realize now 
how grave a responsibility it is to live ? 

“ But your head aches and we must find an 
antidote for all this introspection. Do you 
know why the condition grew so intense and so 
agitating during the last moments of our stay in 
that place ? ” 

“ No,” said Reginald, “ I do not know, but it 
seemed as if I should go mad from excess of per- 
ception.” 

“Yes,” said Alta, smiling, “that was the ex- 
citing cause. It was vour mental organ we 

O y o 

were traversing, and as your own excitement 
increased, the conditions there corresponded,” 


CHAPTER II. 


“ How marvelous ! ” exclaimed Reginald. 

“ Could you see, as I have often seen,” Alta 
went on, “ the brain of a genius at the moment 
when a discovery dawns upon him — it is like 
the crater of a volcano. But you are fatigued, 
you must have no more excitement now. Our 
researches shall be outside of yourself. You 
shall see your fellow-men, not as you have al- 
ways known them, but as they appear to me 
and as they are. Do you see, my son, that lu- 
minous spot yonder ? It is caused by the con- 
junction of many men, as you would say, drawn 
together by a common interest and mutual at- 
traction. They have assembled to worship. 
That steady diffused light indicates the sympa- 
thy or the rapport which fuses the souls of the 
multitude. This is well suited to my purpose 
as an illustration, so thither we will go.” 


i 8 the masked prophet. 

He gave a sweeping movement of his up- 
lifted hand, and away they were speeding 
through space toward the softly illumined spot 
Alta had indicated. In another moment they 
were looking down upon an assembly of wor- 
shippers. Each individual was encircled in a 
halo of shimmering light, appearing, indeed, 
like a “ sphere,” as called by Alta. A net-work 
of lines oould be discerned, like fine silver 
threads, in which all seemed enmeshed. Alta 
anticipated Reginald’s question and said, “ Those 
are lines of force, attractive and repellent, which 
draw these men toward or away from each other. 
They are the invisible currents which establish 
the natural relations and association among 
people.” 

Reginald looked for some moments in silence 
and then said ; “ I observe there is an infinite 
variety in the appearance of these spheres.” 

“Yes,” said Alta, “and to me that is as full 
of meaning as is a printed page to you. Your 
scientists have discovered a system of lines in 
the spectrum of remote heavenly bodies, which 
tells their nature and elements. I see before 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


19 


me lines which in the same way disclose the in- 
nermost impulses of each soul, love, truth, hy- 
pocrisy, hatred, jealousy, are all revealed in 
that encompassing halo. You observe those 
lines of force,” he went on, “ which stream from 
the head, are in some individuals much longer 
and brighter than in others ? Those are the 
men who will inevitably dominate the others. 
Then, too, there are different qualities of this 
force, good and evil, that you cannot discern as 
I do, but you see clearly as I, that a man’s per- 
sonality is not limited within the boundary of 
his visible physical organism. See how each 
one extends — some reaching out an influence 
which penetrates every being in the assembly, 
while others again have only a little feeble ra- 
dius of light, which scarcely reaches his nearest 
neighbor ; but you will observe all are inter- 
laced and entwined by these invisible currents, 
which make the whole world and, indeed, crea- 
tion, akin ; so that just as in the minute beings 
you saw a while ago in your own organism 
there is an interdependence, and harm to one 
must be an injury to all the rest, as all partake 


20 


THE MASKED PROPHET 


of these same living currents, which flow like 
your life-blood through the arteries and veins of 
the race of men.” 

“Oh, what a complex world!” exclaimed 
Reginald. 

“ Complex, indeed,” answered Alta ; “ why, 
my son, what you have seen is only the begin- 
ning of an endless chain. The myriads of 
beings on the earth, like those before us, consti- 
tute a whole, which is again only an integral 
part of some mightier whole, and that again 
only a part of another and more gigantic com- 
bination. And so on and on, till the brain 
grows giddy with addition and multiplication, 
and still we have not yet reached the end, the 
all, the sum total which is the universe.” 

“ Then if it has no limit it can have no centre,” 
said Reginald, “ and if there be an impossible 
maximum there must also be an impossible min- 
imum. I am lost, lost, in this immensity.” 

“ You are quite right, my son,” said Alta; 
“ there is no boundary line, no frontier, and 
every man makes for himself a centre. The 
place where he stands is for him the centre of 


THE A/A SATED PROPHET. 


2t 


the universe. I am pleased to find your mind 
so receptive to these things,” he added. “ You 
are equally right in seeing the infinity of the 
chain leading toward the minute. An impossi- 
ble minimum follows an impossible maximum. 
What you call matter, being simply an aggre- 
gation of particles, which are in turn composed 
of other and smaller particles, so that you may 
subtract and divide till the brain grows weary 
with the task — as it did just now in multiplying 
— and still you will have molecules susceptible 
of division, until we arrive at a point where the 
atoms are so infinitesimal that all the solids 
known to science are as honeycomb to the 
many times divided molecules.” 

“ Then,” said Reginald, “ why may not this 
ethereal matter, infinite in attributes, why may 
it not be spirit ? ” 

Alta shook his head gravely. “ The time is 
not ripe for you to know the relation of spirit 
and matter. You have much to learn before 
you are ready for that great mystery, but this 
much I may tell you ; Spirit is to matter what 
the general is to the army, everywhere present 


22 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


by his cohesive and directive force, without 
which, matter, like the rank and file of the army 
without the general, would become a dis- 
organized and ineffectual mass. And as the 
jDower of the chief in command is shared by the 
next in authority, and so on down to the ranks, 
so the universe requires every officer and man 
to do his whole duty at his post. Now listen ! 
The leader of this assembly is about to pray.” 

Words of supplication and entreaty followed 
those of invocation and praise. They seemed 
wrung from a bruised heart and agonized soul, 
and dwelt upon the just wrath of an offended 
God, one who must have the shedding of blood 
to appease him before there can be forgiveness 
and peace. 

Alta’s brow contracted, and, sighing deeply, 
he said : “ Poor children, poor children, why 

can they not understand ? ” 

“ Now observe,” said Aleita to Reginald, 
“ my Father has come into touch with this 
man’s nature ; note the change in his speech.” 

Almost while she spoke the bowed head v/as 
raised and words eloquent with hope and trust 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


23 


electrified his listeners. “ Thou art not a God 
of vengeance, but of love. We are not victims 
of Thy wrath, but children of Thy divine heart. 
We may grope and stumble, for the way is 
dark, but Thou wilt not permit one of Thy 
children to perish in darkness and despair.” 

The sensation in the assembly was profound. 
Some few lingered to admonish their pastor 
that he w'as making salvation too cheap, too 
easy. But the preacher heard or heeded not. 

There was a life-giving touch upon his bowed 
head, from which there streamed a wave of 
hope and aspiration which seemed to flood his 
soul. The touch was Alta’s, whose invisible 
hands rested upon the head of the good man. 

“ Now, my children, I must leave you for a 
while,” said Alta. Turning to Reginald, he 
added : “ Aleita will be your guide, and if you 
desire it, will convey you to scenes far beyond 
the region of earthly pilgrimages. She has a 
brave spirit and a strong grasp upon the forces 
which belong to our plane of existence. She 
loves you much, my son, and you have before 
you an eternity of joy beyond the power of the 


24 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


human mind to conceive,” and with a farewell 
wave of the hand he vanished. 

Reginald trembled. He was for the first 
moment alone with this divinely and yet 
humanly lovely creature. Words seemed a 
coarse profanation of the measureless, ineffable 
feeling which filled his soul ! He opened his 
arms and she glided into his embrace. Whether 
it was hours or moments he knew not. What 
had he to do with time now ? She loved him. 
His restless soul had found peace, he had 
become a part of eternity. Rising and setting 
suns meant nothing to him forevermore ! 

Did she speak? He knew not, and yet he 
knew her thought. She was telling him how 
long she had loved him, how she had tried — 
vainly tried— to make him understand that she 
belonged to him. And then, had she not suf- 
fered ? Had she not seen him clothe an earthly 
object in her own attributes, and try to enshrine 
a creature of clay in the home she had beauti- 
fied for herself? When he had found his 
earthly love fading in disappointment and bitter- 
ness ; and she — she had been almost glad when 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


25 


he wept. “ Still I comforted you,” she seemed 
to say. “ Your outstretched arms often 
enfolded me, yet you only dimly knew it, and 
thought you dreamed. Ah ! dearest, the other 



was the dream, and this the real. If you doubt 
the reality of this moment,” she said, laughing, 
“ look down there and see what is before us.” 
Reginald looked as she bid him. There lay 


26 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


a fair city. Did he not know it well ! Its 
ample white avenues were fringed with waving 
verdure which only half concealed beautiful 
homes, and many a graceful spire, like the 
jewelled finger of faith, pointing heavenward ; 
while here and there arose great marble and 
granite piles of architecture, with mighty domes, 
and out of the very earth sprang a cloud-pierc- 
ing, spotless shaft, whose glistening top looked 
beyond the river, to the blue hills on the other 
side. 

They hovered for a moment over this beauti- 
ful scene and then drifted on until they looked 
down upon a nation’s dormitory, where her 
patriot slain peacefully slumber, while on cush- 
ioned wheels and with velvet tread, devoted 
living pay tribute to heroes dead ! Often had 
he visited this hallowed spot ; but never before 
had he seen the golden light which enveloped 
it, nor the radiant beings keeping watch o’er 
these green mounds 1 

On and on they floated, over broad fields and 
fertile valleys ; the lowing of the cattle and joy- 
ous peals of laughter mingling with the hum of 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


27 


the busy, simple life below, in the familiar 
cadence of earthly sounds, which struck strangely 
now on Reginald’s ear. 

“ Why do we come here ? ” he had thought 
rather than said, to which his guide replied : 
“ Reminiscence and habit open up pathways 
through which the soul naturally moves ; besides, 
you love these scenes, and the desire to see 
them, although only vague and not formulated 
into a wish, creates an impulse towards them. 
Oh ! you have so much to learn. To desire is 
to be, and to wish for is to have.” 

How well he knew the scene which was now 
spread out beneath their gaze ! Every tower- 
ing peak of this mountain range so blue was a 
familiar friend. That rugged pinnacle with the 
human profile in stone was keeping watch just 
as of yore over that lovely village nestling at its 
feet. And there was the same great encircling 
valley, fertile, rich, beautiful ; and beyond was 
the cavern Luray, that strange treasure-house, 
filled by nature as if in affluent sport of creative 
fancy. 

A desire to de.scend into its unexplored depths 


28 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


flitted across his mind. He was only conscious 
of meeting a tender reproach from Aleita’s eyes, 
as he found himself descending a dark, slippery 
incline, with alternate illumination and inky 
shadows so intense as seemingly to cut the very 
optic nerve. He felt the clasp of Aleita’s hand, 
firm, yet soft as eiderdown, and on he went, 
down, down, through labyrinths of winding 
caverns, the air growing heavy with sepulchral 
odors and a horror of chill dampness clinging to 
stalactite and stalagmite, augmenting the dan- 
gers of the slippery path. 

Soon he felt rather than saw the presence of 
innumerable creatures, and there arose a horrid 
din of subterranean sounds clashing out of 
harmony, each grating discord seeming to say; 
“ Go back ! go back ! We like you not : what 
do you here ? ” 

Reginald could bear no more. “ Aleita ! ” he 
cried, “ let us get away from this horrible 
place.” 

Instantly he felt the sweet breath of the open 
air and the sunshine. Aleita’s lips were pressed 
upon his own, and she laughed merrily as she 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


29 


said : “ So you do not like the underworld ? 
Ah, well ! you must learn to be careful about 
what you wish Remember what I told you. 
It was horrible,” she said, shuddering, “ but I 
dare not leave you to yourself. Come, dearest, 
let us away to yonder shining peak, and forget 
all about this cavern and its ghostly occupants.” 


CHAPTER III. 


How beautiful, how tempting was the land- 
scape from that greater elevation, bathed in 
the sunlit splendor of late afternoon ! “ It is 

beautiful,” she said, pressing her companion’s 
hand in sympathy, “and I do not wonder you 
desire to be there. Let us go,” she said im- 
pulsively, and instantly their feet were on firm, 
prosaic earth, the clouds flitting and the trees 
waving over their heads. They were a part of 
the landscape they had beheld but a moment ago. 

Reginald had never realized so fully as 
at this moment the joy of possessing this di- 
vinely lovely girl. Now, with his feet pressing 
the green turf, he knew it was reality, not a de- 
luding vision of bliss. She loved him and was 
to be his own through all eternity. He ex- 
tended his arms toward her, but she shrank 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


31 

from his embrace with a little shiver, and 
stood apart, pale, silent, her eyes fixed on the 
ground, where her feet seemed too firmly fixed. 

“ Dearest, what is it? ’’ said he, in alarm. 

She tried to smile, as she answered : “ I think 
we had better go down to yonder plateau where 
we see those tents, but I am afraid you will 
have to lead here,” she faltered ; “ I do not feel 
able to guide you in this place.” 

“ Lean on me, dear one,” answered he, 
proudly. How glad he was to have her look 
to him for protection ! But the way was diffi- 
cult, and he scarcely knew how to surmount the 
intricate dangers of the descent. Network of 
vines entangled them, sharp stones cut their 
feet, and sometimes further progress seemed 
impossible. Reginald felt as if struggling in a 
strange nightmare. A benumbing sense of in- 
sufficient strength and skill for what he had un- 
dertaken dismayed him. 

Aleita sighed deeply. “ We will rest, darling,” 
he said ; “you are not used to these rough ways.” 

A tree had fallen across the path and he 
drew her down upon the moss-covered seat. 


32 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Her eyes looked into his with an expression of 
pathetic weariness and hopelessness. He tried 
to tell her of his love, of the eternity of happi- 
ness that awaited them. A dread chill smote 
his heart as she withdrew her hand from his and 
examined it closely, almost as if she expected to 
find a stain upon it, saying absently: “Eter- 
nity! How do we know there is an eternity ? 
Forgive me if I pain you,” she said, “but since 
we came here all seems so dark, the other with 
its joy seems only a dream. I behold things now 
in the light of reason. The warmth and color 
have faded out of everything in its cold rays.” 

I he sun was sinking below the horizon. Its 
glow of crimson and purple faded into pink and 
gray and these in turn deepened into the sombre 
tints which precede the night. Still they sat 
speechless, two dumb souls in the shadow of a 
dense forest, far from human habitation. Regi- 
nald aroused himself from the lethargy which 
overwhelmed him and tried to talk again of 
their love, but his stammering tongue gave only 
feeble expression and Aleita answered absently : 
“ I think — I do not quite understand you.” He 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


33 

realized that every effort engulfed them more 
and more in the quicksand of hopelessness. 

In agonized fear of something, he knew not 
what, he sprang to his feet. “ Let us go,” he 
said ; “ let us get away from this place to the 
plain below. Lean on me, dearest, I will take 
you safely.” But in the growing darkness they 
stumbled and fell, rising again to clamber over 
boulders and fallen trees with despairing effort, 
and finally reached a wall of shelving rock 
which forbade another step. Aleita sank upon 
the ground with a cry of anguish, and then, 
lifting her face, said ; “ Oh, Father, Alta, come 
or we perish ! ” In another moment, calm, ra- 
diant, majestic, Alta stood before them. “ My 
poor children,” he said, “why would you come 
back to these physical conditions ? Why did 
you sink to the level of the common-place?” 
Then as his hands took one of each of theirs, 
the solid earth seemed to grow luminous, even 
transparent. Once more they realized that to 
think and to desire was to have and to be. Ah ! 
the joy of this mastery of the spirit over the 
natural physical forces. 


34 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


They sped away, away. Earth had faded 
into a little scintillating ball in space ; its attend- 
ant moon, which had for a time expanded into a 
great luminous mass, was now a minute point of 
light. They were threading their way in those 
vast unvisited regions among the star's. A new 
sun blazed upon their path, growing, expanding. 
What had seemed mere points of light about it 
were clustering groups of satellites, glittering 
like splendid jewels about the great central fiery 
mass, which at last seemed a mountain of flame ; 
while each satellite was at least as large as our 
own sun, each carrying its encircling moons, 
and each of these larger than our own moon at 
the full and blazing in a variety and intensity of 
color beyond the capacity of the human eye to 
conceive. Our own solar system diminished 
into a mere rushlight in the heavens beside the 
splendor of this family of stars. Is it strange 
that Reginald prostrated himself before the God 
of such a universe, and said ; “ What is man 
that Thou art mindful of him ? What a mighty 
creation is this ! ” he exclaimed. 

" Yes,” said Alta, calmly, “ yet one conscious 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


35 


soul is greater than all these. This is only the 
theatre, the stage, for the real life, where we 
are the actors. You know so little, it is difficult 
to make you understand, but the glory does 
not lie so much in immensities, but rather in 
the subtle perfection of the essence.” 

“ And are these worlds the theatres of an ex- 
istence like ours on earth ? ” said the youth, rev- 
erently. 

“Like? Yes and no,” said Alta. “Like in 
kind, but in degree as like as you are like the 
oyster. There is an intensity of experience 
here you could not comprehend, and yet its ele- 
ments are all contained within you, and all 
exist in your world, which is now invisibly cir- 
cling about that faint star yonder,” saying 
which, he pointed to a feebly flickering point of 
light acro.ss the trackless space beyond. 

“ Is that our earth?” inquired Reginald. 

“Your earth? ’’and Alta smiled as at the 
guesses of a child ; “that is the entire solar sys- 
tem. The sun and its remotest satellites are 
from this distance merged into one point of 
light, to which your earth contributes a ray too 


36 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


feeble to be seen. And now I must leave you. 
Aleita will re-conduct you over the path we have 
come in due time.” 

“ Not yet,” said the enraptured youth, grasp- 
ing Alta’s hand. “ Tell me, first, how I may ob- 
tain this mastery over the forces of nature. 
What is the secret which unlocks these glories ? 
Impart this to me, I implore, before you go.” 

“It is not a thing which can be bestowed or 
imparted,” replied the sage. “ It is simply a 
matter of growth, a natural unfolding of germi- 
nant powers by means of minute processes of 
growth, not by fiat. Impatient souls like yours 
would leap at once into the higher life, but does 
one leap from the cradle to the senate cham- 
ber ? Can one read without learning the alpha- 
bet ? There can be no unnatural termination of 
the period of tuition on. the lower plane. Can 
you feed on unripe fruit? The fragrance of 
the rose is the outcome of the blossom, the 
bud and the germ. You must patiently tend 
through sunshine and shadow, in summer sun 
and winter blast, for the ripening of this fruit; 
and not daring, so much as patience, is needed.” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


37 


“ Well, at least tell me before you go some- 
thing of the mysterious relation of spirit to mat- 
ter. I have so longed to know. Can they exist 
the one without the other, or are they insepa- 
rable, or even identical?” 

“Yes, that is the old question,” replied Alta. 
“ I, too, struggled hopelessly with it in my own 
earth life ; but how vain, how futile it was. 
The race of man has not arrived at a point of 
development where a solution of this mystery 
is essential or even possible. When it has, it 
will know. All the currents of the universe 
would continue to flow as now, if this secret 
were wrested from the hidden archives. The 
vast avenues of advancement open broadly, in- 
viting men of thought and earnest purpose to 
pursue the orderly path of progress which leads 
to an expanding perception of God’s universe. 
Move patiently along the path, your face set 
steadily toward the higher, but always realizing 
that it can only be reached through the lower — 
that the concrete is the school which fits for the 
essential life, or life in the essence.” With 
these words Alta waved a majestic farewell and 
vanished utterly from view. 


38 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Reginald was alone with Aleita in this vast 
ocean of space ; no North, no South, no night, 
no day, no clock to tell the hours nor mark the 
seconds. Before him the glittering splendors 
of this strange and nameless sun with its satel- 
lites, and in his arms the being who was to him 
more than all the universe besides. The rapture 
of a divine soul-satisfying love filled his being. 
Is it strange that he saw not the clustering star 
worlds, expanding and diminishing as they sped 
by them along over the pathless regions of 
space ? It seemed but a moment of time when 
Aleita, with a little sigh of regret, said, “ Do you 
recognize this spot ? ” 

Looking down he beheld the waving tops of 
the pines, and near that pyramid of wild roses 
he saw the sleeping form of a man, his face hid- 
den by the clustering blossoms. 

A vague terror smote him. “ You are not 
going to leave me ? ” he gasped. 

“ Yes, dearest,” she answered, “ for a time, at 
least. It must be so, but I shall come again. 
This shall be our trysting-place,” she said, smil- 
ing, “ and when I come to you hereafter will 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


39 


you know it is I, or will you think you dream ? 
Oh, Reginald, I could not bear that now. But 
I will give you a key which will always unlock 
the door dividing us ; ” and with both arms 
about his neck she whispered into his ear the 
magic word which would always bring her to 
his side, adding tenderly : “ It will not be 
needed long, dearest, and then an eternity to- 
gether ! And if you need me, remember — all 
obstacles will melt before that word which you 
have but to utter and we will be face to face and 
heart to heart.” 

Overwhelmed and agitated as he was, Regi- 
nald could still not resist a strange fascination 
which drew him toward the partly concealed 
figure of the sleeping man under the great oak. 

Aleita smiled sadly as she saw this. “If you 
awaken him I shall have to go,” she said, with a 
warning gesture. At this momeut she lifted 
her head and stood for a moment as if listening. 
Then turning to him she said : “ The time has 
come. It has been beautiful as a dream, but it 
is over. I must go. Remember — it is not a 
dream. Farewell.” 


40 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


“ My love, how can I let you go?” His lips 
.met hers, his very soul seemed departing in an 
ecstasy of love. 

He felt as if he were sinking down, down, 
into fathomless depths ; then, with a strange 
feeling of having lost a priceless jewel he 
opened his eyes and looked at his empty arms. 

From a distance came the hum of the busy 
city, the wild-rose brambles rustled gently in the 
breeze, there was the drop of blood on his finger, 
dried into a tiny spot of dark red, and at his 
feet lay the fading rose. 

And the romance so beautiful was here sus- 
pended for a time at least. 


CHAPTER IV. 


Fresh from an experience so ecstatic, con- 
scious of powers within him so far transcending 
anything that he had hoped or dreamed, it is 
not strange that Reginald Irving returned to 
his home in a state of singular exaltation. 

He had foretasted some of the joys of the 
great beyond. What had been all dark and 
formless had become to him like a familiar 
traveled land. For one short hour the invisible 
had been the visible, the limitations of sight, 
sound, motion, time, had been removed. And 
w’hat had he discovered ? Not a new form of 
existence, but the old existence expanded, and 
with a larger environment ; he had felt a 
stronger grasp upon its elements, a more com- 
plete understanding of his own place in the 
great cosmic plan. The germ of the Beyond 
lies in the Now and the Here. 


42 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


When night came and the curtain of darkness 
fell over the fair city where he dwelt, he went 
out, his head bared to the cooling breeze, and 
walked as in a trance all through the night, un- 
able to throw off the intoxicating spell of that 
journey through space with Aleita. With sorrow 
he saw the dawn of a new day, and watched the 
light, which must compel him back to the ordi- 
nary haunts and cares of men, creeping over the 
landscape. 

He, late a denizen of the celestial spaces ; he, 
who had beheld the glowing splendors of those 
far-off worlds, dwarfed now to mere glimmering 
points of light — he must talk to men of buying 
and selling, must enter into the meagre and ma- 
terial details of life. Could it ever again be 
possible? He, who had looked in upon the 
mysterious processes of his own brain, its 
minute perfections, its delicate complexities — 
could he use that organ again for sordid and 
ignoble purposes? 

No; he would live in the spiritual, not the 
material world. By lofty contemplation, re- 
mote from men, he would fit himself for the 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


43 


companionship of the being who honored him 
with her love. 

“ l o-morrow, yes, to-morrow, I shall see her 
again, and I will tell her of my resolve to de- 
vote myself to this preparation for eternal joys 
with her.” 

The city was beginning to stir; the activities 
of a new day were commencing. He took 
refuge in his own home, not for rest, but to 
avoid observation. Unconscious of fatigue, he 
threw himself upon the bed, and in a few 
moments was sleeping profoundly. 

He ^ ^ ^ 

Mr. Richard Stoddard and his charming 
young wife had just returned from their wed- 
ding journey. As they rose from the dinner 
table, Mr. Stoddard said ; 

“ I think I’ll run around and see Reginald for 
a few moments, Amy; and, perhaps. I’ll bring 
him home with me.” 

Returning shortly after, he seemed disturbed 
as he joined his wife in the drawing-room. 

“Such a strange thing, Amy!” he said. 
“ Reginald has been asleep all day His house- 


44 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


keeper says he came in about seven o’clock this 
morning. She asked him if he wanted his 
coffee, and he said, No; he was going to sleep, 
and did not want to be disturbed. That is 
twelve hours ago, and I couldn’t awaken him. 
He’s all right, apparently; breathing quietly, 
his flesh cool and natural ; but I couldn’t rouse 
him, and — it made me feel uncomfortable. 
What would you do ? I shouldn’t like to make 
a sensation unnecessarily.” 

“ Wait,” was the brief and sensible reply. 
“ He may be very tired. Nature knows best. 
Leave him alone. In the morning, if he is still 
asleep and cannot be roused, why, I would send 
for a doctor.” 

And so it was that early the next morning 
Stoddard was once more standing at his friend’s 
bedside, and at the first touch of his hand, at 
the sound of his voice, Reginald’s eyes opened. 

“ Well, Rex, you have had a regular Rip Van 
Winkle sleep — twenty-four hours, by Jove !” 

“ Is that possible ?” said his friend, in bewil- 
derment. He was trying to separate the real 
from the unreal, in his corporeal consciousness. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


45 

Was he dreaming now that Stoddard stood at 
the foot of his bed, or was it a dream that he 
had tasted the joys of infinity a few hours be- 
fore ? 

‘‘ Well, come around and dine with us,” said 
Stoddard, good-humoredly. “ By six o’clock 
perhaps, you’ll get your wits together ; they seem 
pretty well scattered just now.” 

“ Thank you, Stoddard, but I cannot dine 
with you to-night. I have” — with what a deli- 
cious thrill he said the words — “ I have an ap- 
pointment this afternoon which may detain me.” 

“Very well; then why not come around to 
breakfast?” looking at his watch. “ Come in an 
hour. Amy has breakfast promptly at eight.” 

The invitation was accepted, and just an hour 
later Reginald appeared. He was pale, and on 
his face was an expression none had ever seen 
there before. Not only was it strangely illumi- 
nated, but there was a far-away look about the 
eyes and a pre-occupation of manner which puz- 
zled and startled his friends. 

Stoddard’s joyous sallies met no response ; 
and after a while he asked : 


46 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


“ Are you feeling quite well, old fellow?” 

“ Perfectly well, Dick, only a little confused 
from the effects of my long sleep.” 

“I thought perhaps you had been working too 
hard over that Robinson matter. By the way, 
what is going to be done about that estate ? 
Will the heirs compromise ?” 

Reginald paused for a moment, and a look of 
perplexity came to his face. Then, stretching 
out his hand to his friend, he said : 

“ Stoddard, there is no use. I really am un- 
fitted just now to talk except upon one theme. 
You are my best friends. I think I shall have 
to trust you. If you will allow me, I will close 
the doors.” 

Returning to hs seat, he looked at the two 
anxious, expectant faces before him. 

“ I hope,” thought Stoddard, with a throb of 
sympathy, “ he hasn’t been getting into trouble. 
He couldn’t gfo wrono'. But what can it be?” 

o o 

Reginald’s voice trembled a little as he began ; 

“ I have had, within the last forty-eight hours, 
a most extraordinary and startling experience.” 
And briefly and vividly he pictured to them 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


47 


wliat had been revealed to him in that drop of 
blood ; then the exploration of his own brain ; 
the forces, hitherto invisible, he had been enabled 
to see in that assembly of worshipers. He 
told them of Aleita, of the marvelous journey 
through space, with stars and satellites moving 
before him and the heavens unrolling as a scroll ; 
of his return, and the parting promise given him 
by Aleita, after which he had found himself alone 
under the tree. 

Both friends sat motionless, gazing fixedly 
upon him until he had finished. Amy, with lips 
parted, eyes dilated, listened eager and breath- 
less to the end. Then, turning to her husband, 
she said : 

“ Richard, what do you think of it ? Have I 
not told you such things are realities? Is not 
my belief vindicated?” 

“What do I think of it?” he answered, ris- 
ing. “ 1 think, Rex old fellow, what you need is 
change of air and scene just as quickly as you 
can get it. Pack up your things and take a trip 
on a bicycle, or go camping in the North-woods 
with a jolly lot of fellows. Stir up your blood, 


4$ THE MASHED PROPHET. 

and let a stiff northward breeze blow the cobwebs 
out of your brain. That’s what I think, he said, 
lighting and vigorously puffing a cigar, 

Reginald Irving looked at him with mingled 
pity and resentment. He had exposed some- 
thing infinitely sacred to a scoffer. “ I might 
have known better than to confide in him,’’ he 
thought. But Amy, she understood. He felt 
the bond of unspoken sympathy. 

Alone with him a moment later, Amy pressed 
his hand, and said, “You must tell me more of 
this. I would give years of my life for such a 
glorious experience. You must not mind 
Richard. He means it for your good, but he 
does not understand these things yet. You will 
make allowance, I am sure, for you know his 
devotion to you.” 

As the two men walked down the broad 
avenue together in the bright June sunshine, 
Stoddard said, gently but seriously, “ My dear 
Rex, I am deeply concerned about you. I don’t 
want to hurt your feelings, but I think you are 
drifting' into dangerous waters : I would rather 
see you a prey to opium or hasheesh. Think of 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


49 


it. You are a young man with urgent practical 
affairs to look after, and with too much depend- 
ing upon the soundness of your judgment to 
give yourself up to this sort of thing. I tell you, 
old fellow, you must call a halt. The best thing 
you can do is to forget, if possible, that ‘ golden 
key ’ to Aleita’s presence. This is a dangerous 
form of intemperance, and has done more than 
anything toward filling our madhouses.” 

Reginald could not help feeling stung by this 
rebuke and chilled by his friend’s lack of sym- 
pathy. But what need had he now for human 
companionship and approval ? More than 
ever he was resolved : he must keep aloof from 
men. Would he not in a few hours be in the 
grove ? And then he had but to whisper one 
word, and she would be there, flooding his soul, 
not with joy alone, but with highest aspiration. 
In these moments he should live ; in the inter- 
vals he should exist. 


CHAPTER V. 


As his foot touched the turf beneath the pines 
a few hours later, Reginald felt a hand upon his 
shoulder, and, looking up, beheld the majestic 
form of Alta. 

“ You are impatient to see her again,” said he, 
.kindly. “That is natural. She, too, rebels at 
the space which divides you from her, and her 
soul struggles to reach yours. You and she are 
absolutely free to choose, in this as in all mat- 
ters ; you are controlled only by the limitations 
of circumstance. I have not the desire, nor 
indeed the power, to exert authority over either 
of you. Hear what I have to say, and then 
your fate lies in your own hands. 

“ Your friend’s words sounded harsh and dis- 
cordant this morning ; but he is right. Perhaps 
I committed an indiscretion in opening to you 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


51 


for a brief time the possibilities dormant within 
you. I did it to gratify my child, believing you 
were strong enough to find in it an inspiration, 
not a temptation. 

“ You resolved yesterday to separate yourself 
from human companionship and to fit yourself 
by high contemplation for your eternal union 
with Aleita. This was an unwise resolve, and 
shows how imperfectly you understand existence. 
Listen to me. So long as your feet touch the 
earth, that is your abode and the field for your 
endeavor. If you spend your time in com- 
muning with a world above and beyond you, 
you lose your opportunity here, and gain noth- 
ing there. It will become a sort of spiritual 
dissipation, enervating to mind and character. 
You are not yet ripe for that higher world. Do 
you know the process that will make you so ?” 

“ No. Tell me. Sire. Your words cut like a 
two-edged sword, but they are true ; I feel, I 
know, that they are true.” 

“ It is this. Keep in close touch with 
humanity, intent upon doing good. Lift the 
fallen, bind up the bruised ; in short, do what 


52 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


the ideal man did — go about doing good. 
Think you this is not a higher occupation for 
you in your present development than making 
rapturous journeys through space ? The expan- 
sion of faculty which brought you such delirious 
joy is the natural result of the unselfish life. 
But the rapture is merely the incident, not the 
life ; if you grasp for it, it will evade you. 
Wait and work for this pleasure.” 

Reginald bowed his head in grief and humil- 
iation. He felt in his soul that the rebuke, 
though severe, was just. He had tried to grasp 
heavenly joys, before he was fitted for them, or 
they ripe for him. 

“ Besides,” said Alta, very gently, “ such a 
course would not only be harmful to you, but to 
my child, my Aleita. The longing desire 
which draws her to you has already diminished 
her control of the finer forces, and by indulging 
it, she might become unfitted for her present 
sphere. You remember the experience on the 
mountain, when you permitted her to come to 
your own level, Have you the wish to repeat 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


53 


“ Not for worlds !’’ cried Reginald, springing 
forward with impassioned earnestness. “Not 
for worlds ! Ah, what shall I say ? What 
shall I do? Mark out for me my course. 
Father of my Aleita, show me the highest path 
of endeavor and I will pursue it to the end.” 

“ This is what I expected of you,” and Alta 
took the clasped hands within his own. “ Do 
you promise that you will not strive to see her, 
at least for the present.” 

“ I promise ! I swear ! ” 

“ That is well. Then there is but little for 
me to say. Keep the doors of your heart open 
to humanity. Altruism is the only path which 
leads to spiritual advancement from where you 
stand.” 

“ What shall I do to reach men — to help 
them ? ” 

“ When you feel a real pity — not simulated 
gmotion for sake of reward — but a compassion 
which is pain, a desire to help which is irresist- 
ible, then the way will open before you. Do 
what is put into your mind and heart to do. The 
suggestion will come, and it will be prompted 
by infinite wisdom, Act upon it," 


54 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Scalding tears of shame and disappointment 
were in Reginald’s eyes. When he raised his 
bowed head Alta was gone. 

The truth was bitter, but oh ! how clear it was 
to him now ! — like a child, he had been grasp- 
ing at unripe fruit. He had believed that to 
revel in ecstatic dreams, instead of filling his 
place as a man among men, would be to lead a 
higher life ; and thus, instead of rising to her 
level, he would have dragged her down to his. 
Their experiences in those entangling woods 
were an allegory ! Ah, the shame of it ! He 
must see her no more. 

A faded, crumpled rose lay at his feet. He 
stooped and picked it up, reverently kissing the 
spot where her feet had rested, then placed the 
rose in his bosom, saying, “ This I may keep ; it 
is all that remains of my dream. At least for a 
time,” he added, sorrowfully, as he retraced his 
steps homeward. 

“Altruism, altruism,” the words rang as a re- 
frain in his ears. Had he not always been com- 
passionate, always striven to lift the burdens of 
others, to lighten their woes ? But no ; the sor- 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


55 


rows of others had not lain upon his heart with 
compelling weight. Indeed, he did not know 
how wretched was the world, how terrible was 
its weight of suffering. He would find out. 

His fortune was more than sufficient for his 
needs. He should not marry ; and he would 
use his means for the great end pointed out by 
Alta. 

But how ? Should he scatter it broadcast ? ’ 
Should he impoverish himself, and toil in self- 
imposed poverty, clad like a peasant in blouse 
and girdle of rope ? Or should he build some 
ambitious beneficence for the future, endow it in 
his will, and leave it to be consumed by lawyers 
and relatives claiming that he was of unsound 
mind ? He would do none of these things. 
Rather he would go far from the scene of his 
temptation, and look upon humanity at its worst 
and wretchedest, where its need was direst ; he 
would learn the sources of its misery, and then 
— Alta had promised that inspiration would 


come. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Some months later Richard Stoddard said to 
his wife, “ I have a letter from Rex, Amy. He 
is in London. But what an odd fellow he is. 
Instead of being at Morley’s, having a good time 
among friends, where do you suppose he is stay- 
ing? In East London. He has settled down 
there, and is making a study of the slums and 
the dregs of humanity in that slough of degrada- 
tion. He always would go to the extremes. But 
that is better than seeing visions and having a 
love-affair with a being who drags him through 
space at the rate of a million miles a minute. 
Of all the wild nonsense that ever mortal con- 
ceived, I think that was ” 

“ Richard, you really distress me when you 

speak in that way of Reginald’s very extraordi- 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


57 


nary experience. It seems to me something 
almost sacred, and not to be tread upon in 
this manner, in derision.” 

“ Amy, you are very lovely, and level-headed 
about most things, but do you know, I think you 
were almost as daft as Rex over his visions. I 
tell you, Amy, he was in a bad way when he 
came to us that morning, and I think that plain 
talk I had with him brought him to his senses.” 

A few months later Reginald received the 
following letter from his friend : 

My Dear Rex : — 

I am sure you will sympathize with our happiness when 
I tell you that Amy has given me a daughter, as lovely a bit 
of human clay as ever bore the stamp of divini,ty. And 
what do you think we call her ? It was a fancy of Amy’s, 
and I have an idea will please a certain friend of ours so- 
journing in the Whitechapel district. We have named her 
Aleita. You must know that her birth was celebrated by a 
peculiar celestial phenomenon, which you will ascribe, I 
suppose, to the name. There appeared in the heavens that 
night a remarkable halo of light, and above that an over- 
arching bow, slightly iridescent, and we are told that it rested 
directly upon our house — or so it seemed to tho excited 
fancy of some people, 


58 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


Doctor Mazoombah, an Oriental and a physician, was here 
before our regular physician, Doctor Barton, arrived, and 
from him I first learned of this phenomenal appearance ; and 
the servants, always ready to greet the supernatural, were in 
great excitement over it. So I went out to look with my 
own sober, unimaginative eyes, and I did indeed behold, 
resting above our house, a most beautiful and distinct lumi- 
nous halo or corona of light beneath an iridescent arc. 
Probably, however, it was some optical effect of some per- 
fectly natural phenomenon, though in my impressible state 
of mind at that particular moment, 1 was prepared to believe 
that it was in honor of the event, and should not have been 
surprised had a choir of angels sung Glory to God ! ” 

As for Amy, she devoutly believes the appearance to have 
been supernatural, and is in a hurry to get well and go to the 
Congressional Library that she may look up mystic literature, 
and find the symbolic meaning of the Halo and the Arc ; 
she is alr|iady convinced that it means something glorious. 

When are you coming back to us ? Are you going to stay 
until you have reclaimed all of the British Isles, or shall you 
limit yourself to England? You are right, my dear fellow. 
It is a glorious thing to bring light into dark places, and I 
hope you will succeed. 

Ever your sincere friend, 

Richard Stoddard. 

P. S — Amy has learned the meaning of the Halo and the 
Bow from Doctor Mazoombah, our interesting friend from 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


59 


the East, who, by the way, knows everything. It may inter- 
est you to learn that the Halo represents the endless plane 
of spiritual existence, and the other, its heavenly origin from 
earthly roots. I write this by Amy’s special desire, not be- 
cause I am myself impressed with a sense of its importance. 

R. S. 

“ Richard, did you ever see anything so 
lovely?” said the doting mother. 

Richard admitted that he never had, and felt 
that he could sit and look forever into the mys- 
terious depths of those eyes and at the marvel- 
ous perfection of those tiny fingers. It was 
the old, old miracle, and to him more wonderful 
far than Amy’s supernatural light in the heav- 
ens. 

“ How strange it was about Doctor Mazoom- 
bah,” Amy continued. “ Who do you suppose 
was the grand old man who knocked at his door 
and bade him to come ? ” 

“ Oh, he dreamed it,” said Richard, irrever- 
ently. “ A little too much hasheesh perhaps, or 
— or too much ” 

“O Richard, how can you ? You know he is 
an ascetic in his habits. It is certainly a fact 
that some one knocked at his door, and when 


6o 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


he opened it, there stood a stately old man, who 
told him that his services were required ; that 
he was to go up the avenue as far as the Circle, 
then turn to his right, and enter the house be- 
neath the halo of light.” 

Richard laughed, a most distinctly irreverent 
laugh. “ Amy, what a dear little goose you 
are ! Don’t you know that every person in the 
city thinks that halo rested over his house ? ” 

“ I am merely repeating to you what Doctor 
Mazoombah says,” his wife answered, but with 
a little sigh. 

“ What a picturesque old heathen he is, with 
his jewels and his salaams.” Richard was glad 
to escape the “halo,” about which he and Amy 
could never agree. “ Do you know, the first 
time I saw him place his hands over his fore- 
head and prostrate himself before you ” 

“ I don’t care about the salaams, but I do 
think his manners are magnificent in their court- 
liness,” Amy interrupted, with dignity. 

“Well, yes; I begin to like them myself. I 
wonder if I ought to prostrate myself before you 
in that fashion, Amy ?” 


THE MASHED PROPHE T. 


6l 


Amy laughed. “ O Richard, how I wish you 
could see things as I do, and not be so pessi- 
mistic.” 

“ Seriously, Amy, I am beginning to feel an 
extraordinary interest in this man. His learn- 
ing is simply amazing, with a ripeness which is 
wisdom, not mere knowledge — not the grape in 
the press, but the wine mellowed with age.” 

After Richard had gone the old nurse shook 
her turbaned head very solemnly as she said : 

“ Dat’s trew. Miss Amy, what yo’ bin sayin’ 
to Mass Richard — suthin’ mity strange ’bout 
dat ole doctor. When he come dat night you 
wuz in a sorter o’ trance like, an’ he jus pass his 
han two or free times ober yo’ face, an’ yo’ open 
yo’ eyes jes as nateral in a minit. An’ I dunno 
wat’s gwine to happen to dat baby. She hain’t 
so much as whimpered yit, ’deed, she ain’t. Miss 
Amy. It’s all mighty strange bisness to me.” 

The nurse told the doctor the same wonder- 
ful fact, adding, “ Tain’t no good sign needer. 
Mity strange tings is happenin’ now-days. 
Dese rings ob light floatin’ roun’ ober de house, 
scarin’ dese fool niggers to de’f — ’deed, dey 


62 


The masked prophet. 


can’t scare me away from Miss Amy. I gwinter 
stay right here, I is.” And old Aunty planted 
herself with determination at the head of the 
crib, with a shake of the bandanna which was 
more eloquent than her words. 

Reginald Irving read with deep and sympa- 
thetic interest the letter from his friend, but he 
started painfully when he heard the name be- 
stowed upon the child. It was so sacred, it 
seemed as if it should be whispered only in 
the presence of angels ; and now it would 
be on the irreverent lips of children, even of 
servants. He was glad he was not there to 
hear it. This was one of the consequences of 
his indiscreet confidence. 

He found himself painfully agitated by the 
unexpected sight of that name. In his life, 
action had taken the place of dreaming ; he had 
striven to banish too vivid memories of that one 
hour in which he had lived. Alta’s words had 
sunk deep within his heart, and with resolute 
hands he had put aside his great temptation. 
H e was taking soundings in a sea of human 
wretchedness hitherto unknown to him, and was 
appalled at its depths. 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


63 


What right had anyone to happiness or to 
oblivion while such things were in existence ? 
“ Help ! Help ! ” a despairing cry, seemed to 
come from every house in that city of darkness ; 
and almost every creature he met said to him, if 
he would listen, “ I am perishing. Save me ! ” 
What could one man do to stay such a tide of 
misery? It was an awful problem, but it must 
be solved. What seemed to him most appalling 
was not the physical wretchedness of these poor 
creatures, but the seemingly utter extinguish- 
ment of the divine spark within them, or that it 
had never been lighted. No hunger, no long- 
ings, except those of the beasts which perish ! 
Were there any embers of divinity that could be 
fanned into a flame ? Could the desire for bet- 
ter things be awakened ? And a voice seemed 
to say, “ First fill the stomachs, cleanse and 
clothe the bodies. Then the higher and better 
things will follow naturally as the light follows 
darkness.” 

The inspiration had been promised — and it 
came. Others, men and women, were intent on 
solving the same problem, and united with him 


64 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


in developing the plan which unfolded in his 
mind like a flower, until at last a bright oasis 
existed in that human desert, and was extending 
its area farther and farther daily. The angels 
of light were beginning to drive back the 
cohorts of darkness. Strict business principles, 
he had decided, should be applied to the work 
of charity ; and to the work of relieving physi- 
cal needs and of awakening spiritual and moral 
desires and longings in these down-trodden 
human hearts — to which he devoted his life. 


CHAPTER VII. 


The little girl in the home of the Stoddards 
grew apace. She was lovely beyond descrip- 
tion, mind and character disclosing marvelous 
depths to the eyes of the adoring parents. Doc- 
tor Mazoombah had become a constant visitor at 
their home, and he and little Aleita were close 
friends. 

Stoddard also found extreme pleasure in the 
visits of this interesting man, and the two spent 
long hours discussing themes which the practi- 
cal man of affairs would once have dismissed as 
unworthy serious consideration, because they 
belonged to the region of speculation. But the 
ripe wisdom of the Oriental had penetrated the 
crust of Stoddard’s unbelief, and he began to 
think there might be things worthy of consider- 
ation, which could not be weighed or measured. 
As for Theosophy, the mention of which at one 


66 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


time would excite only his laughter or his scorn, 
he admitted that it was more reasonable far 
than Calvinism, for instance, or indeed than any 
system of dogma which he had yet known. “ It 
is practical religion, the religion of common 
sense,” he told Amy, “ and fitted for the every- 
day life of every one.” 

For hours he would sit smoking his pipe, and 
listening to the mellifluous, picturesque speech 
of his guest, whose mind seemed to hold wisdom 
in its essence. Mysteries rolled away, and all 
became simple and reasonable cause and effect. 
Not one arbitrary touch remained to offend or 
antagonize him. Ascribing all imaginable good 
to the Supreme Being, instead of clothing him 
with hateful passions, making him a being capa- 
ble of consuming wrath and vengeance, 
Mazoombah would say : 

“Would you know His designs for the race 
of man ? Then try to imagine the greatest 
possible good that could come to humanity. 
This is the keynote to the administration of the 
Most H igh. He is most bounteous, bestowing 
more than we know how to ask or to receive. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


67 


Everything is offered, and we take only the 
crumbs! We need not grow old. There is no 
need for those silver threads I see there, my 
friend, nor for that incipient baldness I discover 
on your head.” 

“ Now, Doctor, you are going a little too far. 
Do you mean that we may preserve our youth 
eternally? ” 

“ Not precisely that. We will ripen, but we 
need not decay. It would be unmeet for a man 
of my age to look like a youth of twenty ; that 
would not suit my developed mind and nature ; 
but the tissues need not shrink or weaken. Old 
age would be beautiful were there no decay. 
And there is no slightest reason why a man at 
fifty should be physically any older than at 
thirty ; indeed, he will not be, if he lives in har- 
mony with divine law. 

“ This can be explained upon perfectly sim- 
ple and reasonable principle.s, although there is 
a scientific view of it which men will compre- 
hend later. The brain is a tremendous stor- 
age-battery of electro-magnetic force — the sym- 
pathetic vibrations of Nature — the creative force 


68 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


of forces. This force is not only creative, but of 
necessity reparative also. Asa man becomes mas- 
ter of himself, he becomes conscious of this force, 
and by bringing his will to bear can direct it to 
any part of his organism where it may be required. 
This is the scientific fact ; but the perfectly prac- 
tical explanation, which may be understood by 
anyone is that the condition of the body is de- 
pendent upon the law of supply and exhaust. If 
you live a life of equipoise, there is little waste 
of the vital forces from friction. Let society be 
alternated with solitude ; in contemplation of 
lofty themes, unconscious of self, let the desires 
and aspirations reach out till they comprehend 
the good of the entire race Your soul is be- 
ing nourished then by thousands of streams in- 
stead of one. In other words, I should say 
that your friend in London, is leading the ideal 
life ; and I venture that twenty years will pass 
over him without leaving a visible trace of time. 
He will unfold, improve ; his face will tell of a 
richer development ; but there will be no decay, 
and youth — abounding, joyous youth — will abide 
with him for many, many years.” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


69 


“ By George, Doctor, I wish you’d make 
such a prophecy for me ! I’m afraid it will be 
a long time before I get a grip on that electro- 
magnetic battery in my brain, of which you 
speak.” 

Mazoombah smiled. “You are doing very 
well. There is a great awakening going on in 
your nature, my dear friend. The spiritual is 
stirring with a new life. Do you know,” he 
went on, “ do you know what is the sin underly- 
ing all others? The sin of ignorance. Men 
are not fools, not brutes. When they really un- 
derstand the truth, they are admonished by it. 
Your Christ came to bring light into the world 
— -in other words, to banish ignorance ; and yet 
you people in the West believe that sin and 
suffering came by Adam’s eating of the Tree of 
Knowledge. Does this seem to you very rea- 
sonable, when to-day we are all striving for the 
very knowledge of good and evil which was 
forbidden to the so-called Adam ? And the race 
is condemned because he sought wisdom, to 
know good from evil.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Nineteen years had passed. But no other 
children had been born into the Stoddard house- 
hold, save the singularly lovely Aleita. Her 
education had been conducted at home. 
Teachers had but to show the way, and she 
seemed to follow it with the swiftness of intui- 
tion. Doctor Mazoombah had inspired her with 
a desire to visit the East. “ Next year, perhaps, 
darling,” her father had said ; “ and then we will 
stop in London and see Mr. Irving, and what 
he is doing there.” 

This had long been planned, but the mother’s 
delicate state of health had deferred it from 
time to time. Aleita lived a life of extreme se- 
clusion. She had made no intimate friendships 
— girls did not seem to understand her, and she 
was quite sure she did not understand them. 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


71 


On the rare occasions when she appeared upon 
the street, admiring eyes followed in a sort of 
wonder as she floated, rather than walked, down 
the broad avenues. Doctor Mazoomba was en- 
vied. Mr. Stoddard did not open his doors to 
the young men who stood without, casting long- 
ing glances at the fair lily so carefully guarded 
within. 

Aleita had heard all her life of Reginald and 
his splendid work of reform in great London, 
far over the seas. 

“ Oh,” she would say, “that is a life worth 
living. I wish 1 could know him and tell him 
how I honor him for what he has done. It is so 
dreadful to think of sorrow and suflfering, when 
existence was made to be such a joy ! ” 

A fresh wreath of shining laurel was kept by 
her about his portrait in the library. Her father 
laughed at her enthusiasm. “ What a little 
hero-worshiper you are ! ” he said, kissing her. 
“ Well, you will be able soon to place the 
crown on the head of the original of the picture. 
He is coming home for a visit.” 

“ Oh, papa, is he really coming so very soon ?” 


72 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


“Yes; 1 had a letter from him this morning. 
H e is on his way now ; will be here — let me see 
— Thursday, Friday, yes, Saturday morning.” 

There was sincere rejoicing over this news, 
and great preparation and planning for the re- 
ception of this dearest of friends. 

Reginald’s work was completed. He might 
go on adding and adding for years ; but if he 
should never touch it more, it stood a monument 
to faithful and successful endeavor founded in 
human hearts. 

A beautiful temple had risen in the midst of 
the squalor and darkness, dedicated to all pur- 
suits and enjoyments which bring light and life 
'to the soul of man ; and in connection with this 
a system of bestowing was adopted which, so 
far as possible, prevented deceit and facilitated 
speedy and effective relief. It would be impos- 
sible to number the wretched, perishing beings 
who had been, not alone nourished, but, far 
better, reclaimed — the souls which had been 
awakened to the higher life. 

There was no danger of relapse now. The 
project had acquired a momentum which no 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


73 


longer needed his impelling, guiding hand. 
The time had come when he might go home, 
and an impulse made him feel that he must go. 
He could trust himself now — he had conquered. 
The memory of that blissful hour had become 
an inspiration, not a temptation. 

He reached home one beautiful June morning. 
What changes nineteen years had wrought ! 
How beautiful the city had grown ! Would he 
find the grove, his enchanted grove ? or was it 
desecrated by improvements? He shuddered at 
the thought. He would go there at once — no 
one knew of his arrival, and the evening he 
would spend with his friends, the Stoddards. 
He winced to think of the girl who bore that sa- 
cred name. How could he bear to hear her 
called Aleita ? She must be eighteen years old, 
“ plays lawn tennis, I suppose, and dances the 
German, paints terrible things in china, and has 
fashionable fads. Ah, well, it’s part of the dis- 
cipline ; I must meet it and endure it. And 
Amy, dear, kind, sympathetic Amy, will expect 
me to be pleased, and I must not hurt her. It 
was intended kindly.” 


74 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


Such were Reginald’s thoughts as he ap- 
proached the precincts of the grove and entered 
the shadow of its great trees. It was un- 
changed. There were the pyramid of wild 
roses ; the brown pine-needles lay upon the 
ground ; the wind sighed through the trees just 
as it did that wonderful morning in June nearly 
twenty years ago. 

A torrent of emotion, long locked in his 
breast, swept over him. Should he speak the 
word ? Had he not striven, and earned the 
right to see her once — only once ? And would 
she come? As he hesitated, his head bent 
down, he heard light footsteps and the faint 
rustle of garments. Looking up, he beheld 
a young girl, all unconscious of his presence, 
her eyes fixed upon a book as she slowly ad- 
vanced into the cool shadow of the grove. 
There she was, in the dewy freshness of youth, 
clad all in white, his Aleita — the same, the very 
same, but oh, so real, so human ! 

He stood as if turned to stone. As she 
reached the spot where Aleita had stood nine- 
teen years ago, she paused, and he exclaimed, 
“ Aleita !” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


75 


She looked up, like a startled fawn, ready for 
flight, but almost instantly the look of alarm was 
replaced by one of wonder, then of delight, and 
she stretched out her hand, exclaiming : 

“Why, it is Mr. Irving!” 

A deeper color suffused her face, as she 
added, with an apologetic smile, 

“I knew you at once, Mr. Irving, from your 
picture. But how did you know me ?” 

He knew not whether he had answered or 
no, as she went on : 

“This is my grove. I come here with my 
books every day, and no one has ever intruded 
before ; so I was startled until I recognized 
you.” 

Did he imagine it, or was she really so like 
that other ? The conviction grew. Identical, 
in form, feature, speech, spirit. What did it 
mean? Would she float away into space and 
disappear — a deluding vision ? 

No ; she stood, her book in one hand, the 
other lightly holding her white draperies, her 
childish lips slightly parted in pleased surprise. 
She was a daughter of earth, not of the skies. 


76 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Would he never speak ? thought Aleita. And 
why did he keep his beautiful, grave eyes fixed 
upon her with such a strange expression ? 

A bewildering suspicion was dawning in Reg- 
inald’s mind. Was this in very truth Aleita ? 
And was she his. friend’s daughter ? He must 
say something. He felt as if struggling back to 
consciousness from a trance. 

“ So you are the daughter of my old friend,” 
he stammered. 

“Yes,” she answered, smiling. “ I am Aleita 
Stoddard.” 

He gasped, and pressed one hand tightly over 
his heart to still its wild beatings before he 
trusted himself to speak again. 

“ And did you say this is your grove ?” watch- 
ing her closely, as he held her extended hand 
tightly in his. 

“ Yes, indeed,” she answered, looking about 
her. “ Don’t you think it is lovely here? No 
one seems to know about it, and I come here 
and dream — and dream for hours at a time.” 

“ I wonder what sort of dreams you have ? 
Do you know there was once a wonderful 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


77 

dream dreamed here ? It was more than a 
dream — a romance ! ” 

Her eyes grew large and full of interest. 

“ A real romance ? ” she asked. 

“Yes, a real romance, one that changed the 
whole current of a man’s life,” and he tried to 
read the heart’s secret through that fair young 
face. 

But no chord of sympathy vibrated in re- 
sponse. 

“ I thought perhaps you might have dreamed 
of this romance, Aleita.” 

“Oh, no,” she said, laughing. “I never 
knew anj^thing about that. I dream of places 
where there is no suffering, no sin, no sorrow, 
where beings are all radiant and beautiful, with 
joy in their hearts.” 

Then, with a little sigrh : “ But it’s foolish to 
dream. Yoti have not wasted your life in 
dreaming. I have so wanted to tell you how I 
feel about your work. Oh, it is so divine to 
help others ! ” She clasped her hands with enthu- 
siastic warmth. “ It is such a beautiful thing to 
bring light into the world ! I only absorb sun- 


78 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


shine and am unable to bring it into the lives of 
others.” 

“ Indeed, you look as if you had been fed 
upon something very radiant,” Reginald replied 
as he continued his earnest look. 

She met his admiring gaze with simple confi- 
dence. She knew she was going to like this 
friend of her father’s ; and, entirely at her ease 
now, she chatted as they walked along toward 
home. 

“ You are much younger looking than I ex- 
pected,” she said, glancing at him a little shyly. 
“ Why, papa’s hair is quite streaked with gray 
and he looks much older than you do. How 
surprised and delighted they will be, and how 
they will wonder where I found you ! ” 


CHAPTER IX. 


A FEW moments later Reginald Irving was 
held in the strong embrace of his old friend 
Stoddard, 

“ Well, I should say so,” he exclaimed, hold- 
him off at arm’s length. “ Mazoombah was 
right. You do not look one day older. Amy, 
look! Isn’t this amazing? Why, Rex, how 
have you done it ? Did you find a fountain of 
youth over there in the Whitechapel district?” 

His friend laughed. “That is just what I 
did find. Men need not grow old, Stoddard, 
Only get lost in the welfare of others, and old 
rime cannot find you, to afifix his signet.” 

“Yes, I know. Mazoombah has been telling 
me all about that ; but somehow I can’t apply 
it. Look here,” and he pointed to the frost- 
ing above his temples. “And so you met 


8o 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Aleita, and she knew you ? Well, what do you 
think of our little girl?” drawing her toward 
iiini with a look of intense pride and satisfaction. 

How could Reginald have told what he 
thought ? He was thinking unutterable things, 
and treading on air. But there was no need 
for answer. A soft white hand was placed over 
Stoddard’s lips and a laughing voice said, 

“ We are not going to talk of your little girl 
at all, papa. Mr. Irving is going to tell us all 
about his wonderful Temple, about the Music 
Hall, the Hall of Entertainment, and how the 
people looked and acted at first,” clasping her 
hands. “O Mr. Irving, your descriptions of it 
were more interesting than any romance. How 
did you happen to think of it ? What suggested 
it? Will you tell me all about it some day?” 

“Yes,” he answered, looking at her with a 
strange intentness, “ some day perhaps I will 
tell you all about it — what suggested it, how I 
was led to think of it. You shall know all.” 

He was completely master of himself now. 
Doctor Mazoombah joined them, and the even- 
ing passed in delightful and natural converse. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


8t 


At last Reginald was under the stars, the 
necessity for self-control was over. An agita- 
tion too deep for words stirred his soul. He 
could not go home ; his feet unconsciously led 
“•‘ him back to the grove. 

As he entered the shadow, he was aware of a 
presence. With no surprise he looked up, and 
saw Alta smiling approvingly upon him. 

“ My son,” he said, “ you have done well. 
You will receive your reward.” 

Throwing himself at the feet of the well- 
remembered form, he cried, 

“ O, Sire, tell me, in mercy tell me, is it really, 
in very truth Aleita ? Has she come to me in 
earthly guise ? ” 

“ Yes, it is she. It had to be so. You know 
she told you, that day long ago, that it was dan- 
gerous to wish ; that a desire was an active, not 
a passive force. The desires of the heart are 
the wings of the spirit, upon which it flies to its 
goal as surely as the needle turns to the pole. 
I saw she would have to come and learn the 
lesson of life over again through matter, 
although there was no need, I am sure, except 


82 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


her great love for you. But I have not 
regretted it.” 

“ Does she know of the past ? ” 

“ Of course not now, or so fully as she will in 
time. Do you know of your former existence, 
or of the interval before you returned in your 
present form ? Perhaps a vague idea, as of a 
long passed dream. No, she does not realize it, 
but she has all the fulness of soul development 
acquired by her past experiences. This terres- 
trial abode has done her no harm. They do 
not often return after reaching the full measure 
of attainments that she had ; but she so strongly 
desired it that it had to be. Such things are 
not determined arbitrarily any more than are 
changes in chemical combination. All the mat- 
ter in creation could not imprison a soul in a 
sphere to which it has become unsuited in con- 
dition." 

Reginald was listening breathlessly, his heart 
beating so that he felt suffocated. There were 
a thousand questions he longed to ask, and the 
time might be so brief. 

“ Has she unusual powers latent within her ? 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 83 

Might she soar with me through space as be- 
fore ? ” 

“ Yes and no. She might leave the physical 
body for a time, but this cannot always be done 
with safety, and, indeed, is always fraught with 
more or less danger. She has chosen to learn 
over again the physical lesson with you, and 
must not seek to partake of the joys of existence 
on two planes at once.” 

“And this body I see you wear — is it fash- 
ioned like ours, out of the same elements ?” 

“Precisely, only more sublimated. I have 
the power to collect the elements which are all 
around us here, and organize them on the in- 
stant, a process that would take years by the 
slow operation of physical laws, and in like 
manner to dissolve and scatter them into space 
again just as quickly. This seems marvelous 
to you, but it is as simple and as natural as any 
process practised by man. The miracle line re- 
cedes as the line of knowledge advances. You 
perform a miracle when you send a message un- 
der the sea to your friend in London. I per- 
form a miracle f^hen I appear before you to-~^ 


84 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


day clothed in flesh. It is by miracle that 
Aleita, constrained by the love of one, was born 
again into this world ; that the One grand soul, 
the Christ, constrained by a high and holy love 
for humanity, returned to the earth life in the 
flesh, not, as theologians teach, as a sacrifice to 
an offended and avenging God, but in obedience 
to an irresistible love, an impulse to serve and 
to elevate the race of mankind by his simple life. 

“ So these are miracles only to those who do 
not understand the law. They are governed 
by a law, and that law is now in force as fully as 
it ever has been or will be ; any seeming 
changes are the result of change in the con- 
ditions of matter through which the law is made 
manifest to the children of earth. You, too, 
were born in strict accordance with this identi- 
cal law, and so all others, each, according to his 
power, partaking in a greater or lesser degree 
of the divine wisdom, power, essence. The 
Church teaches that Christ, of his own free will 
and accord, as part of the Godhead, was in- 
carnated. So are we all incarnated, or reincar- 
nated — some from a higher and some from a 


THE MASHED PROPHET 85 

lower motive, but none so sublime as His. 
Our lives in the great eternity are made up of 
experiences of periods of threescore years and 
ten, in the same way that this period is made up 
of daily activities, followed by the rest of night ; 
and we pass as naturally from the spiritual rest 
to this physical activity through reincarnation, 
as we do from the hours of sleep to our daily 
duties, and birth follows death as naturally and 
as simply as death follows life. Each new 
earth experience involves a round of object les- 
sons, comprising the grand kindergarten course 
of the physical world. Our great hindrance is 
that, worse than children, we hold on to our 
symbols — the globes, the cubes, the triangles, 
the lines, representing wealth, power, place, pre- 
ferment. We cling to them and they to us, un- 
til, like a millstone about our necks, they sink 
the spirit deeper and deeper into the material 
plane. Only by some providential stroke of the 
sword of justice is the connecting bond cut 
asunder, and the spirit made free from such- a 
physical yoke.” 

“You ask if Aleita possesses powers unusual." 


86 the masked prophet. 

She does, but is not conscious of them. She 
has passed upward from the lower school of 
matter, and her soul holds its secrets as a child 
holds inherited powers, instinctively but uncon- 
sciously ; and she might dissolve the body and 
set the spirit free, as though physical death had 
released it, and then reassemble those particles 
again and find her soul clothed as before. She 
would not know the process, but a powerful de- 
sire might accomplish it. She must not be 
aware of such power yet. Mortals are not to be 
trusted with it at all times and under all condi- 
tions. Untold harm has come from tampering 
with the processes of Nature on this higher 
plane. 

“ Earthly existence is a school in which is 
learned the nature and control of matter in its 
grossest forms. The lesson begins at the cra- 
dle and ends at the grave of each physical exist- 
ence. Then the liberated soul enters upon a 
course of dealing with a more sublimated form 
of, matter, controlled by a higher set of laws 
and forces, whose action is known as ‘ affinity ' 
and ‘ attraction,’ just as in the nomenclature of 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


87 


the lower school. Your spiritual body lives 
among these forces and is composed of particles 
of this higher form of matter, which are emana- 
tions or an outgrowth from your lower physical 
body ; and just as your earthly form is related 
to your perceptions now, so is the spiritual body 
related to the more exalted perceptions in its 
lofty environment. But before it is ready for 
this, the soul must be graduated from the course 
below. There is no favoritism in this school, no 
bribing, no shuffling. The diploma must fce 
fairly and honestly earned, and means that there 
has been emancipation from earth-born desires, 
and the true value of all material things learned 
by oft repeated experiences. Aleita’s coming 
back was purely voluntary and hence exceptional, 
but in accordance with the law of attraction.” 

“ And will she love me, sire,” Reginald asked, 
almost inaudibly. 

“How can you ask? Did she not come 
back because she so loved you ? She does not 
consciously — now ; but already the seed is ger- 
minating. She is awake at this moment, recall- 
ing all you have said to-day, with an interest 


88 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


never awakened before, and is impatient for the 
morrow, when she will see you again. She 
thinks now it is your work which interests her. 
She exalts you ; you are her hero. She has no 
thought of love ; if you spoke of it she would 
fly from you. But the time is coming, and 
swiftly, when she will think of it, with all her 
fully awakened nature, and you will be loved as 
men are seldom loved in this world, where na- 
tures are so imperfect and undeveloped. 

“I told you that the renunciation of earth- 
born desires went hand in hand with the higher 
attainments. Let me explain that the affections 
are not so classified. Love is not earth-born, 
but heaven-born and imperishable. The liber- 
ated soul never gets beyond sympathetic touch 
with those it has loved on earth ; again and 
again it is recalled to comfort and sustain. 
The world would soon sink and perish but for 
this ministry of the departed. Wherever 
hearts are aching and breaking, there, you may 
be sure, are ministering and guardian angels, 
flooding with light and consoling with hope and 
love. So Aleita’s drawing toward earth was en- 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


89 


tirely in a line with her highest development, 
though dangerous — very dangerous, to herself. 
You might have failed her, might have married. 
No, you need not disclaim it : some one, per- 
haps, loved you, and was unhappy. Twenty 
years was long to work and wait so faithfully 
with no definite hope ; and you might have 
lived out your life with a tolerable degree of 
content. Of course with no joy such as comes 
from a heaven-born marriage. I mean a harmo- 
nious marriage. 

“ And Aleita would never have loved, but she 
too might have married, from pity perhaps. 
She is sympathetic, impressible, trusting ; and I 
tremble when I think what harm such a union 
with an inferior nature might have wrought. 
She might have hated — yes, hated her husband. 
And hatred is the most destructive of forces; it 
corrodes, destroys the finer natures. I have no 
power to absolutely foresee ; that is, only a little 
more than you ; so I often tremble at what 
might come. Of course, my knowledge of what 
exists gives a wider sweep to my vision and en- 
ables me to see to some extent into the future ; 


90 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


although I am not a prophet. But this I know. 
She will love you, her heart will turn to you as 
the flower to the sun, expanding and unfolding 
in the sunshine of happiness. All unconscious 
of her own richer nature, she will tremble before 
your superiority.” 

Reginald covered his face with his hands. 
“ Oh, this must not be ! I am unworthy of this. 
Unworthy of her love.” 

“ Certainly you are unworthy,” replied Alta, 
smiling. “No man deserves the sort of wor- 
ship a superior woman is capable of. But you 
may keep it, for all that.” 

“ How ? In pity tell me how to keep and de- 
serve such love, Sire.” 

“ Simply by letting her see you entirely de- 
voted to some practical pursuit with which her 
exalted nature is in sympathy. So long as she 
sees you energetically and wisely accomplishing 
the good of your race, so long will she continue 
to tremble at your touch and be thrilled by your 
words. If she finds in you simply a lover and 
a dreamer, she will esteem you accordingly. 
Keep your feet firmly planted upon the earth, 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


91 


with an underlying consciousness of the force 
and reality of spiritual things. But keep all 
your living energies directed to the world of 
visible realities and their ultimates, which lie be- 
yond and above. 

“ I will see you again, my son. Farewell.” 
And Alta was gone in an instant. 


f 


) 


CHAPTER X. 

Reginald Irving wended his way homeward 
with a heart brimming with hopes and full of a 
deep love for Aleita, whom he now realized had 
come into his plane of existence since he could 
not pass to hers. He was not ripe for Heaven, 
so Heaven had come to him ! What a miracle 
love had wrought ! 

The weeks glided swiftly away. Reginald 
was never permitted to be long away from his 
friends. Richard could not bear to leave him 
out of his sight. Amy basked in the light of 
his .congenial presence, and Aleita — well, Alta 
was right. The flower was turning toward the 
sun. Somethinof new and subtle was coming 

O c!> 

into her life. Was it joy or pain ? She knew 
not. 

“ Richard,” said his wife, “ I have something 
very serious to say to you.” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


93 


“Well,” said he, sitting down beside her, 
“ what is it ? Anything gone wrong, my dear ?” 

“ Oh, no, not wrong; but, Richard, do you 
know, I. think Aleita is seriously interested in 
Reginald.” 

Her husband gave a start of amazement 
“ Amy, are you losing your senses ? That child 
interested in Reginald ! ” 

“ In the first place, Richard, she is not a 
child any longer, but is eighteen years old : and 
in the second place, I am not losing, but using 
my senses. I see some things now more clearly 
than you do, my dear Richard. You did not 
observe her the first morning he went away ? ” 

“ Why, no. What )vas there to observe ? ” 

“ Why, when I saw him coming down the 
avenue, I exclaimed, ‘ There comes Reginald 
Irving,’ and she rose instantly, turned as white 
as her dress, and made an excuse to go up-stairs, 
and when I sent for her to come down and look 
at the photographs of the temple he had brought, 
her hand trembled so that she could scarcely 
hold them.” 

Richard looked grave. “ Amy, are you sure 
of this ? ” 


94 


THE Masked ekoehet. 


“ Perfectly sure. Richard, she loves Regi- 
nald.” 

"Well,” he drew his hand quickly across his 
eyes, " she seems such a child to me ! But if 
she must love anyone, I am glad it is he. He 
is the only man in the world who is worthy of 
her.” 

“ Do you know, I have wondered ” — and she 
looked timidly at her husband, and hesitated— 
‘‘ I have often thought — I know you will ex- 
claim at this — I have often thought that perhaps 
the spirit of that beautiful being Rex saw in his 
vision, and painted in words so glowing as to 
make me see her, is personated in my child. 
Now I know what you are going to say.” 

" Well, Amy, for a sensible woman, you do 
have more absurd vagaries ! But, for heaven’s 
sake, do not let her get hold of such an idea. 
You have not told her about that vision ?” 

“ Never a word. 

“ Well, .never do. And Rex, he wouldn’t tell 
her, would he? He has thrown over all that 
rubbish long ago. He’s a thoroughly practical, 
splendid fellow. My son-in-law, eh? Well, 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 95 

that would be a curious thing. By the way, he 
is coming home to-night. I had this telegram 
this morning from New York : 

“ Will be with you this evening. 

“ Reginald Irving.” 

“ Oh, I am so glad,” said Amy, fervently. 
“ The dear child has gone about alone and 
looking like a ghost since he left us last week.” 

To Reginald a week had been like a year, 
and the limited express seemed to creep as it 
carried him back to light, life, and joy. There 
had not been one word of love. But he knew. 
He had watched, and had seen the “ flower turn- 
ing toward her sun.” She loved him, and the 
time was near when he might speak; perhaps 
to-night. 

He hastened to the house. She did not hear 
him, knew not his presence until he stood 
directly before her, both her trembling hands in 
his, his eyes looking searchingly down into her 
own. 

“ Aleita, do you know, darling, that we. be- 
long to each other, that your soul is the other 


96 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


half of my own ? And that is the reason I can- 
not exist without you.” 

Her hands which lay passively in his, trem- 
bled like a frightened dove. 

“ And you love me ? ” she said in a sort of 
wonder. “ Why should you ? I am only a 
foolish girl, a dreamer, while you, oh, Mr. 
Irving !” and Aleita looked at him with eyes of 
a worshiper. Then he folded her in his arms 
and kissed fervently again those dear lips which 
had blessed him so abundantly now and before. 

With her head resting on his shoulder Regi- 
nald was telling of his deep unspeakable love, 
when Richard Stoddard and his wife entered. 
Aleita looked up, coloring slightly as Reginald 
still holding her in his firm embrace turned, 
saying, “You see I have captured your Aleita 
and with your consent will make her my wife. 
Have I your good wishes ?” 

Richard embraced them as they stood and 
both father and mother kissed and congratulated 
the happy pair. 


CHAPTER XL 


It was with curiously mingled feelings that 
the little group gathered about the blazing fire 
that evening. Aleita’s father had not yet re- 
covered from his astonishment at the speedy ful- 
fillment of Amy’s prophecy. 

“ Your mother’s keen eyes saw what was com- 
ing,” said he, fondly stroking his daughter’s fair 
hair. “And I, I am so slow to see these things. 
I hadn’t observed that you had grown up, you 
little puss. Well, Rex, I know you’ll take good 
care of her. I do not think I could give her to 
any one else. But — there must be no more 
flights with the angels ” he added in an under- 
tone. 

Reginald laughed, and shaking his head said, 
“ Never fear. There is but one angel in the 
universe for me now.” 


98 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Aleita looked curiously from one to the other, 
wondering what this meant. She would ask 
Reginald when they were alone, not now. . The 
hour was too heavily freighted with joy, with a 
sense of such perfect peace and completeness. 
She must be silent. There would be time 
enough to ask questions, and find out all there 
was in his mind and heart. 

Later in the evening Richard drew his friend 
aside. 

“ Rex, you have never told her about that 
strange experience of yours ?” 

“ Never a single word, Richard.” 

“That is right. I never would.” 

Doctor Mazoombah came in, and of course 
was told what had happened. But there was no 
need. He too had seen what was coming, and 
felt, as soon as he entered the room, that his 
little friend and companion had already given 
herself to Reginald. 

There was some talk of the grove. Richard 
had only seen, not known of it. 

“You must go there, papa,” said Aleita. 
“ Why could not we all go there and have tea 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


99 


some afternoon ? Doctor, you will go with us, 
will you not? And we will have Chinese lan- 
terns hung on the trees, and spend the evening,” 
said she, kindling with girlish enthusiasm. 

“ If I might be permitted to arrange all that, 
said the doctor, deferentially bowing, “ I would 
be much pleased.” 

“ Indeed you shall,” said Aleita. “ How en- 
chanting it will be! You shall look after the 
illumination. Doctor Mazoombah, and I will 
provide the supper.” 

“ And if you will allow me, I will add a few 
comforts, for if I am not mistaken, it is only 
fitted for the entertainment of naiads and 
dryads at present,” persisted the doctor. 

So it was all arranged ; and late one after- 
noon, when the hazy Indian summer was at the 
height of its glory, the trees and vines of that 
§ecluded spot with the thousands of twittering 
birds w'ere astonished by the sound of voices, 
laughter, and approaching footsteps. 

“ Papa, do you wonder that I love to come 
here ? Is it not beautiful ? But what is this — a. 
pavilion ? Doctor, this must be your work. 


lOO 


THE. MASKED PROPHET. 


And rugs and oriental hangings ! Why, what 
an Eastern palace you have made of it! You 
are a magician, I am quite sure.” 

The doctor gave a pleased laugh. “ I am 
glad you like it. You will not see it in its full 
splendor until evening.” 

“Well, we must have our tea first. Come, 
my Rex, you must be useful,” and Aleita blushed 
as she called her lover by his first name. “ We 
will spread the cloth on this mossy mound, and 
we can sit upon some of Doctor Mazoombah’s 
delightful rugs. Oh, what glorious fun it is ! ” 
and Aleita busied herself with the tea. 

Could anything be more enchanting than she 
was, flitting here and there like a delighted 
child, in that strange setting of autumnal foliage, 
mingled with things rich, rare, and strange, 
which the doctor had scattered about with an 
artistic and lavish hand. 

Reginald forgot to be useful. He could not 
remove his eyes from her — so completely sim- 
ple and childlike, so far removed from the 
world of phantasms. A vague doubt was form- 
ing in his mind. She was in no wise different. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


lOI 


except in degree, from any child of earth. He 
could not fully identify her with the being with 
whom he had visited the stars. Was this the 
same Aleita? How he longed to know! 

“ You are not a good waiter at all,” said she, 
to Reginald. “ You must keep your mind on 
what you are doing, sir, just as papa does. See, 
you have spilled the cream on Doctor Mazoom- 
bah’s beautiful rug.” 

Recalled to earth, he was properly contrite 
and promised to try and do better in the per- 
formance of his duties. 

The hours stole swiftly by. As twilight 
began to deepen a hush seemed to fall upon the 
assembled people who sat watching the day 
fade into night. Aleita’s mood had changed. 
She crept close to Reginald’s side, her hand 
clasped within his own. 

Did they imagine it, or was there a return of 
the waves of light ? Was it only an afterglow ? 

A purpose was vaguely forming in Reginald’s 
mind. Would she respond to an unuttered 
wish if he impelled it strongly? He would try,-- 
and if she did, then he would take that as an 


102 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


indication that he might speak that long 
unuttered word. 

The purpose had become a resolve. Abso- 
lute stillness had fallen upon the place. He 
turned Aleita’s face toward his own, then fixed 
his eyes upon hers, intently, almost sternly, say- 
ing to himself, “ Arise, go to the spot where I 
first beheld you.” 

Instantly she withdrew her hand from his, and 
lightly rising to her feet, walked as if in a dream 
to the spot on which she had stood when she 
first saw him that afternoon four months ago, 
and where he had first seen Aleita, nineteen 
years before. There she stood perfectly still, 
with eyes cast down. 

The softly diffused light had deepened. 
Every outline of every branch and tendril shone 
in a soft, mysterious glow. The pavilion began 
to gleam with color, as of light from within 
shining through the draperies and hangings. 

The beautiful child’s mother trembled vio- 
lently. It seemed as if some strange crisis was 
approaching. Everything was aglow with a 
beautiful soft light. 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


103 


“ Madam,” said the doctor, gently placing a 
reassuring hand on her arm, “ do not be dis- 
turbed. It is all perfectly natural. You only 
behold now, what an obedient servant matter 
becomes in the hands of one who understands 
its laws.” 

“ But Aleitia,” she said. “ Look at her. 
What does this mean. Doctor?” 

Everyone was watching her breathlessly, as 
she stood there, clothed in such a strange 
radiance. 

The moment had come. With a resolute 
step Reginald advanced, took her hand in his, 
and leaning over her, whispered one word in 
her attentive ear. 

She started. A look of bewilderment 
changed into one of surprise, then joy. Clasp- 
ing her hands together, as if in wonder, she 
looked about her, not at those who were watch- 
ing her, but beyond, through them, at the dis- 
tant stars and encircling trees, vines, and 
shadows, a smile of delighted wonder in her eyes 
and upon her lips. 

“ The same, the very same. Here I stood. 


104 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


his hand in mine. Rex! My King ! We rose 
from this very spot, up, up, into the blue ether, 
i hen vve looked down, and saw the dome, and 
the broad avenues and trees of a fair city, hazy 
and beautiful as a dream. 1 hen away, farther, 
farther, over the mountain-tops. But, oh! shud- 
dering, “ why did we alight? I could not walk, 
his arm seemed so weak and frail, and I so help- 
less, and entangled with those dreadful vines and 
sharp stones. The darkness, the despair — it 
all comes back. Then, oh, the joy of deliver- 
ance ! Some one came, and lifted us up, up 
again, and we were away, earth receding, and 
those other worlds growing in light and splen- 
dor, and I so safe and triumphant, with his arms 
encircling me ! ” 

She looked like a spirit indeed as she uttered 
these words. 

It would be impossible to depicX the feelings 
of those who witnessed this scene. Amy stood 
leaning forward, with clasped hands, tears roll- 
ing down her cheeks, as she saw the confirma- 
tion of what she had for years believed. She 
gave a swift glance at her husband. Beads of 



“ Network of vines entangled them ; sharp stones cut their feet.”— Seepage 31. 






io 6 the masked prophet. 

perspiration stood upon his forehead, a look of 
consternation was on his face, as he whispered 
to his wife, almost fiercely grasping her arm as 
he did so, 

“ I ask again, did you tell the child of that 
vision?’" 

“ No, certainly not.” 

“ Did any one tell her?” 

“No, no one has told the child, I am quite 
sure.” 

“ Then, my God ! it must be true, as you 
suspected.” 

Aleita paused after uttering the last words ; 
the luminous mist seemed to be crystallizing 
into an iridescent glow, which blazed from every 
branch with the splendor of jewels as in the sun- 
light. The hangings at the entrance of the pa- 
vilion were slowly drawn aside. Aleita, with 
her sentence unfinished, had fastened her gaze 
upon them, as if in expectation. She gave a cry 
as she sprang forward, and, gazing wdth love 
and confidence into the eyes of the majestic "be- 
ing who stood disclosed, placed both her hands 
in his, and said, “ Alta, father ! ” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


loy 

“ My child,” said Alta, taking her into his 
arms, “the truth has been revealed to you. It 
was all as you recalled it. You loved him, you 
would return, and take up the earth life again. 
Now, come what may, live it out bravely and 
unfalteringly to the close.” 

Then extending a hand to her lover, he placed 
her hand in his, as he said,“ Reginald and Aleita, I 
give you one to the other in perfect love and confi- 
dence. You belong to each other eternally. All 
the hosts of heaven could not sunder you, even 
though no priest ever uttered the words which 
unite you. Farewell, we shall meet again,” and 
with a majestic sweep of the hand he vanished. 

The lights began to grow dim. The cabalis- 
tic lines wrought in the rugs, which had been 
like lines of fire, slowly faded into darkness. 

Aleita stood speechless, trembling, her hand 
resting in her lover’s. The grove, lighted now 
only by rifts of moonlight, lay in deep, shadow 
and perfect stillness. 

In silence and awe, they all returned to their 
home. 

“ Amy,” said her husband, “ you know more 


Io8 THE MASKED PROPHET. 

about some things than I do ; but I always 
knew she was an angel.” 

Not many days after these events, three car- 
riages stood in front of the church, while 
within the pastor was uttering the words which 
united, by the laws of Church and State, two 
happy human hearts and lives, as Reginald and 
Aleita were made one by human ritual. They 
came down the aisle, she more beautiful than 
ever before ; and — was there a choir of angelic 
voices chanting a glad anthem, or did the assem- 
bly only imagine they heard the glad tidings of 
peace on earth and good-will toward men ? ” 


CHAPTER XII. 

The steamer which was speeding its way 
toward the East, bore two beings who believed 
they had touched the highest pinnacle of earthly 
joy. Reginald and Aleita sat hand-in-hand, si- 
lent, with unutterable content. As he traced 
the outline of her face and form in the starlight, 
he trembled lest it should vanish as it had 
done once before. He asked himself again and 
again if it could be true, that this being of an- 
other world, this angel of his dream, had become 
a thing of flesh and blood, and was his wife — 
his wife ! O God ! what had he done to de- 
serve such a joy ? What could he give — what 
service perform, in exchange for such blessed- 
ness ? 

“ My darling,” he whispered, gathering the 
frail girl in his arms, “ I am frightened at my 
happiness ! And you, dear,” he said, kissing 


no 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


the happy tears which filled her eyes, “ you too 
are trembling with a happiness as great as my 
own. Shall I tell you why ? It is because our 
souls belong to each other, and are incomplete 
when separated. Now, dearest, listen. I am 
going to tell you the whole story of our love. 
The time has come when you should know it in 
all its wonderful completeness. I am going, 
Aleita, to that distant East, to learn, laboriously 
and perhaps with pain and suffering, some of 
the mysteries which were once as an open book 
to you — you poor darling ! How pitiful it 
seems to me that jmu gave all the joys of 
knowing and of being, just to share my poor 
life ! I feel, dear, that I have so little to offer in 
exchange for such supreme sacrifice and renun- 
ciation ! I stole you from Heaven ! Forgive 
me, darling” — and dropping on his knees at her 
feet he buried his face in her lap in deep silence. 

“ Reginald,” she exclaimed, “do not bow be- 
fore me. I feel so honored by your love. 
Stand up, my beloved, and look in my eyes while 
I tell you something which presses upon me for 
utterance.” 


TtiE MASI^ED PROPHET. 1 1 i 

She paused — passing her hand slowly across 
her forehead as if striving to arrange her * 
thought so that she might utter it. Then look- 
ing into his eyes, radiant as the angel of his 
dream, she said : 

“You need not tell me — I know it. Not all 
the time, but in moments like this it has come 
to me during the past week. I remember how 
my soul hungered and thirsted for you, and 
could only reach you in brief moments while you 
slept. And then— that day of days — that hour of 
hours in the grove, when your spirit escaped from 
its prison-home and joined my own ! — and to- 
gether we took that rapturous flight through 
Ether. It was all so natural and simple to me, 
but you were so filled with wonder. How glad I 
was to open such a vision to your soul ! What a 
joy to see your joy, as those points of light ex- 
panded into blazing worlds ! I think 1 can show 
you the star now,” said she, springing lightly to 
her feet and swiftly scanning the spangled 
heavens above her. 

“There — there it is,” she cried with a joyous'^ 
upward movement. “ You see dear ? — just above 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


112 

the Pleiades, only a faint little glimmer. But 
we know — it is a great blazing cluster of worlds. 
You remember, Reginald, how blinding was the 
glory of it ! And it is just so now, only these 
poor eyes of ours cannot see it. But what were 
those pulseless worlds to me ? It was thought 
of you — of you — which filled my soul. And 
then — O God! — you went back into your prison 
— and I — all the universe was a prison to me 
after that. You called it an hour. It might 
have been an aeon. I knew nothings of time ; 
but only that I had lived while with you, and 
could not live without you. 

“ You need not regret it. I had to come, 
Reginald. My longing for you brought me as 
surely as gravity brings the avalanche to the 
earth. And now, dearest, I am not sorry,” said 
she, smiling divinely as she passed her hand 
with a caressing gesture across his hair. “ Noth- 
ing can make me sorry. I may suffer — I think 
I shall. But nothing can make me regret it.” 
She paused, a slight shudder passed through 
her frame — as she said rapidly : “ But harm 

must not come to you — O, my dear one !— how 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


II3 


could I bear that ?” Her eyes, fixed on empty 
space beyond, began to dilate, — her face grew 
white and rigid. “ Reginald ” — she whispered 
— I see — what is it? O God! — it is lurid — 
awful — it is fire,” and she clung in wild terror to 
her husband. 

“ My darling — it is nothing — there is nothing 
there, he pleaded, earnestly. 

“ Oh, don’t you see ? ” — pointing into space — 
“those flames, they leap and roar like demons. 
Stay — stay, don’t go.” With a half cry or moan 
her head fell on his breast, and she lay lifeless in 
his arms. He gathered her up like a sleeping 
child, and laid her upon the couch in their state- 
room. 

Terrified beyond words Reginald knelt beside 
her, chafing her hands and temples and implor- 
ing her to speak to him. In a few moments 
there was a deep-drawn sigh. The eyelids 
trembled and then languidly opened. 

“ What is it, dearest?” said she, with a faint 
smile. “ Did I fall asleep ?” and Reginald cried 
from the depths of his heart, “O Doctor, Doctor, 
why are you not here in this time of need ?” 


114 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


In the early morning Reginald was on deck, 
thinking, as he had done during all the silent 
hours of the night, of that strange scene under 
the stars the preceding evening. It was only a 
new miracle confirming the old. She was a 
transplanted angel, drawn back into earth-life 
“by the attraction of soul to soul.” And as a 
mortal woman, she was possessed of rare psy- 
chic powers, by virtue of her affinities with the 
higher forms of matter and of force about her. 
And he asked himself again and again : “ What 
was he, that he should have the love of such 
a being ? Love was growing into adoration, 
and adoration into worship. The garments 
she wore, the things she touched were sacred 
to him. How pale — how white she was as 
she slept ! If she should die ! God ! Why 
did not Mazoombah come ? He said he would 
meet them on the steamer. His passage 
was engaged. Why did he not write ? If she 
became ill who could he ask for help ? None of 
these prying intrusive people. It would be a 
profanation.” 

He started. A hand was laid upon his 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 115 

shoulder with strong-, familiar, detaining touch. 
Turning he stood face to face with Mazoombah. 

“You here?” he cried. “I did not know 
you were on board.” 

“ And I was not until this morning,” was the 
doctor’s answer. 

“This morning !” gasped Reginald. “ Why, 
we have been out two days!” 

“ Yes — yes — I know, but to be frank, I 
thought I might de trap, and I did not intend 
to go unless I was needed. But last night, when 
Aleita, when it seemed she might need me I came. 
How is she? What was the matter. You see 
I only get impressions, and I do not always know 
how to construe them. I heard your summons.” 

Reginald embraced his old friend with- grate- 
ful fervor, saying, “No matter how you came. 
You are the one person in the whole world I 
most wished to see. Come with me where we 
can talk undisturbed.” 

After Reginald’s recital of what had happened, 
his friend sat silent for a long time, stroking his 
beard, apparently lost in thought. " 

Reginald watched him with a curious min- 


I £6 THE MASHED PROPHET. 

gling of confidence and alarm. What was he 
thinking? What would he say? — this man who 
could overtake a steamer 800 miles from land 
because warned by telepathic message that he 
was needed ! 

He seemed like an oracle of Fate, who held 
their destinies in his firm, white, jewelled hand, 
and could mete out to them life or death. 

At last he broke the long silence : “ That 
child you left sleeping down there,” pointing 
towards the stateroom, “ is, as I suppose you 
know, an angel in mortal disguise. But, for all 
that, you are not to worship her. She cannot 
lean on you if you are at her feet. There 
must be equality in a perfect union. There 
may not be equality in attainments. In this 
case there cannot be, of course. But your soul 
in its essence, may be the equal, or even supe- 
rior to hers. Attainment is after all,” said he 
with an air of abstraction, “ from one point of 
view, an accident. A result of opportunity — 
partly or wholly development.” He then lapsed 
into silence again. Reginald was striving to 
wait with composure for him to resume. 


THE MASKED TIWPHET. 


II7 

“ I confess” said he at last, “that this recent 
development of psychic power is — well — a cause 
for uneasiness.” Reginald winced. 

“ The danger lies here. She is so much more 
perfectly attuned to the higher than the lower 
forms of matter, to the subtler forces than those 
to which you, I and others respond, that her 
hold upon life, I frankly tell you, is slight. 
Unless she sends those psychic roots deep down 
into the soil of mother earth she will not stay.” 

“O God! do not say that,” cried Regi- 
nald covering his face with his hands. 

“Then, my dear Reginald, do not awaken 
memories of that other and higher life. Make 
the present vital and strong enough to grapple 
her here quite firmly. 

“ Now remember, my dear friend, I am speak- 
ing not as one inspired ; only as a physician 
with somewhat wider view of causes than others 
of my profession. You entirely exaggerate my 
powers. I have observed that, and it pains me. 
I have studied it in a different way, and drank 
from deeper fountains perhaps than others ; that 
is all. I myself have no gifts like that child 


1 1 8 the masked prophet. 

yonder ; but I know something of the subtler 
processes of nature, of which your occidental 
world knows nothing. It is not unusual with 
us, and, my dear Reginald, it really pains me to 
be considered a superior sort of being. 

“ You can see my limitations from my 
inability to understand why I was needed here 
last night,” added the doctor, musingly. 

“ Nor can I look much farther into the future 
than you do ; except as my wider vision makes 
me better able to judge of probabilities. Just 
precisely like your Weather Bureaus,” said he, 
smiling. “ All I am good for is to fly the danger- 
signal when I see a storm approaching ; but I 
cannot avert it, nor predict or absolutely foretell 
its results. A little knowledge always seems 
mysterious to the ignorant,” added he, as he arose 
and stretched himself wearily. 

“ But you came — how was that done ?” urged 
Reginald. “ You were in Washington last 
night ? And now this morning you are here.” 

“ Yes, that is quite true.” 

“ And yet you ask me not to consider your 
powers exalted ! ” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. \ 19 

“ Oh, any well-trained earnest soul may obtain 
almost absolute control over material forces like 
those which compose our bodies which we have 
builded ourselves.” 

“ Could I acquire this wonderful power, 
Doctor ?” 

“ Certainly, and you will,” answered the 
doctor, smiling. Then looking at him intently 
for a few seconds, with half-closed critical eyes, 
he added, “You have the true oriental nature. 
You are an exotic in this Western Hemisphere. 
You will feel that you are in your native air when 
you get under the shadow of the Himalayas. 
Do you know why ? But no — not now — 
another time we will talk of that.” 

“ One thing more,” said Reginald, with a 
detaining hand on the doctor’s arm. “The fire, 
Doctor, what made her see that last night ? 
Her terror was pitiful to witness.” 

“Well, there may be several explanations. 
She might have seen the phosphorscence on the 
water, and in her excited state the impression 
might have been magnified. It is impossible to 
explain the vagaries of hysteria or this psychic 
phenomena.” 


120 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


“ It has no other significance ? ” said Reginald, 
looking at him intently, 

“No, I think not. Now go to your wife. 
She is awake. That is, I presume so; for I 
hear her spirit call ‘ Reginald.’ ” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


When left alone the doctor’s face changed. 
He pondered long, with knitted brows and anx- 
ious expression. “What does it mean? Fire? 
— when? — and where?. I feel no discordant 
vibrations, but nevertheless I will look.” 

He took from his bosom a small jewelled case, 
and opening it, took from it a gold-rimmed glass, 
the size of a gentleman’s watch. Then holding 
it up he looked carefully through it for some 
moments. 

“Nothing — nothing at all,” said he. “So 
there is no immediate danger from fire.” He 
carefully replaced the glass, and resumed his 
attitude of perplexed thought. “ But I must 
watch. I must keep a ceaseless vigil during the 
voyage. I could go as I came. But they — 
what would they do, poor children ? Could I see 
them perish in mid ocean? Horrible! My 


122 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


beautiful child — have you come back to earth 
for such a cruel fate as that? To be consumed 
like a moth in a candle? I told him it meant 
nothing. God forgive me ! It has a terrible 
meaning, and at no very distant time and place, 
perhaps.” 

Later in the day Reginald brought Aleita on 
deck. She, pale and silent, but with a look 
of supreme content, nestled among the cushions 
and rugs on the steamer-chair, her hand clasped 
in that of her husband. They were watching 
the sunset when she said : 

“What is that, Reginald?” as she pointed 
towards the setting sun. 

“ What, my darling ? I do not know what you 
mean ? ” 

“ Why, those strange dark lines in the sky ? ” 

“ I do not see any lines,” said he, trying to 
follow the direction of her eyes. 

“ Not see them ? ” said she, in surprise. Again 
he looked. 

“ No dearest. Where?” 

Raising herself on her elbow she said, turning 
to the doctor : 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


123 

“You see those groups of dark lines forming 
fantastic figures, do you not, Doctor?” 

The old man’s face had turned ashen in hue. 

“Yes — yes,” he said, “ I have seen them be- 
fore. There are so many strange optical effects 
at sea.” Then with wonderful vividness he 
described a mirage he had seen in the Indian 
Ocean. The man and the narrative were both 
so picturesque, it was not strange that two or 
three in the vicinity drew nearer to listen. 
Among them was a fair-haired youth. His 
ulster slightly grazed the back of Aleita’s chair. 
She shuddered perceptibly. 

“Are you cold, dearest?” asked Reginald. 

“ Yes, I am a little chilled,” she replied. 
“ Will you take me below ?” 

Mazoombah went to his stateroom also. His 
hand trembled as he brought the gold-rimmed 
glass again from its hiding-place, and again 
looked at the sky ; this time longer and more 
earnestly. 

“ No,” said he, wiping great beads of perspira- 
tion from his forehead. “ Nothing fatal, I see — 
nothing at all alarming. But they are there,. 


124 ■ 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


She makes no mistake. This,” said he, tap- 
ping the glass, “is but a clumsy approach to her 
more sensitive organism, which perceives the 
lines in advance. To-morrow this will reveal 
them too, perhaps.” 

The next morning Aleita had recovered her 
natural vivacity. The languor of the day be- 
fore had gone. Once only did there seem a 
cloud upon the horizon. 

She saw Reginald at a distance talking with 
that same effeminate youth. Pale and trem- 
bling she motioned to Mazoombah to come to 
her, and said peremptorily, “ Go, bring him 
away.” 

“ Who, my child ? ” 

“ Why, Reginald. Don’t you see ? Don’t you 
see he is with that man ? ” 

He followed her eyes to where the two stood, 
then smiled and said, 

‘ Why, my dear girl, that is only a ” 

“No matter who or what he is,” said she im- 
patiently — a red spot burning on each cheek. 
“ Bring him away. Can you not see he is terri- 
ble ? ” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


125 


Mazoombah instantly obeyed. As he re- 
turned with Reginald he said: “I must see you 
alone and at once. A storm is gathering. I do 
not know its nature, but there is danger. Come 
to my stateroom.” 

When Reginald joined Mazoombah a few 
minutes later, he was pacing the narrow limits 
of his room like a caged lion. 

What do you mean. Doctor ? What danger 
is there ?” breathlessly asked he. 

“ I do not know, Reginald, but look through 
this, and tell me what you see.” 

Reginald peered through the gold-rimmed 
glass for a few seconds, and then said : “ I see 
curious zig-zag lines in groups ; very black and 
threatening.” 

“ Precisely. That is what she saw in the sky 
yesterday. This glass has been sensitized by a 
process you may understand some day, and it 
reveals violent disturbances in forces invisible 
but terrible. It is the breath of the approaching 
storm. Some frightful calamity is impending, 
Her more highly sensitized organism saw it 
yesterday. This clumsy device reveals it to-day.. 
It is near at hand. Probably to-night.” 


126 


THE Masked prophet. 


Reginald’s blood seemed turning to ice. His 
breath came fast and labored. “What is to be 
done, Doctor? Tell me.” 

“ Nothing but watch. Eyes open and every- 
where. There must be no sleep to-night, that 
is, for you and me. You know the vision she 
had of fire ? That seems to indicate the nature 
of the disaster. Another thing, that fair-haired 
youth you were talking with — who is he?” 

“I do not know. He was asking me just now 
my views of a future life. He is a strange sort 
of a fellow.” 

“ Yes. Well, keep an eye on him. We must 
not let him be out of our sight. Aleita has an 
extraordinary aversion for him, and trembles at 
his approach. That has a meaning. She 
must sleep to-night. Poor child ! I will give 
her something harmless which will make sure 
of that. Now go to her. I know you are 
to be relied upon to be alert, wise, courageous, 
whatever comes.” 

The doctor was left alone. But he seemed 
to be holding converse with some one. He said : 

“Ah, my brothers, it is well I came. You 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


127 


are wise, good and powerful ; but this child sees 
farther than you or I. Will you believe it — 
where my glass revealed blank nothingness, she 
saw the danger lines ? ” 

Then lifting his arms in an attitude of suppli- 
cation, stranoe musical words in an unknown 
speech rattled from his tongue, gliding into each 
other with an oily smoothness and rhythmical 
harmony. 

Then — calm, unruffled, imperturbable, he 
locked the door of his room after him and his 
vigil had begun for that long and eventful night. 

Mazoombah paced the deck gazing at the stars 
for some time, and he finally said to himself as it 
were, “What is life but love, and love but wis- 
dom, and wisdom itself is justice, and justice, law 
quickened into life and harmony. Thus all of our 
reasoning runs in a circle, in the same manner as 
if we go forward continuously to the rising sun ; 
in time we reach our starting-point, if we be only 
accurate in our line of march. God’s love ex- 
pressed first in the protoplasm, as we speak to 
man’s understanding, so limited, otherwise the ^ 
protoplasm and all else is life and expressing 


128 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


God’s love ; baton our proposition God’s love 
first expressed in the protoplasm, and it teems 
with tangible life ; with this life goes out from 
the great Creator or Creative force a guarantee 
of unlimited possibilities, of progression, of ele- 
vation through evolution, to each and every 
animalcule which has responded to the touch 
of the Creative hand. Discrimination would be 
destructive of our circle, our arch, based on 
love. That child whose sensitive organization 
is so susceptible to the attenuated influences of 
these coming events and of which we have but 
now had warning, is only a favorite in the sense 
that she is further progressed through experi- 
ences than some others of us. But the way is 
open to all, the lowest and the highest alike. 
And all any one can do, is to make it a question 
of time when we will attain these, and even higher 
gifts than these, by helping or hindering this ir- 
resistible force of forces.” Then he silently de- 
scended the companionway to watch with his 
friend. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


It was midnight, and Reginald from an 
obscure corner had seen the fair-haired youth 
go to his stateroom. “ I will remain here,” whis- 
pered Mazoombah. “You keep watch above. 
Not in one place but in all.” 

Just after one o’clock the door of the state- 
room quietly opened ; the young man with a 
small satchel in his hand, lightly ascended the 
companionway. 

He did not hear the furtive cat-like tread of 
the East-1 ndian behind him. With quick ner- 
vous step he reached the deck, and placing the 
satchel on a seat next the rail, took off his hat, 
and with a deep-drawn breath looked at the stars. 

“ Somehow I couldn’t do it down there,” he 
said, softly. “ The chief actor in a great drama 
shouldn’t skulk in a rat hole,” and he laughed a 
bitter cruel little laugh. “ Well, old world, you 


130 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


have played me some scurvy tricks, and I owe you 
one. This is to close up our accounts. Good- 
bye.” He reached his hand out toward the 
satchel, but a powerful blow from behind, felled 
him to the floor, and as he struggled to his feet 
he saw the bag propelled swiftly out into the 
air, describing a long curve down into the sea. 
With aery of rage and despair he bounded over 
the rail and followed it with a plunge head first 
into the ocean. 

“Man overboard! Man overboard !” rang 
out on the night air. In a few moments a 
crowd of half-clad people were on the spot, the 
engines had stopped, a boat had been lowered ; 
and in another five minutes the oars of the re- 
turning boat were heard in the stillness, and a 
poor dripping limp burden was lifted carefully 
up the ship’s side and laid on the deck. 

Guided by a swift impulse, which he felt he 
must obey, Mazoombah had descended to the 
stateroom from which he had seen the wretched 
boy emerge only a few minutes before. 

It was in wild disorder ; clothing, papers 
strewn over floor and couch, and lying on the 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


I3I 

latter an open book, an ink bottle and pen with 
the ink scarcely dry. 

The book had a flexible red morocco cover 
upon which in gilt letters was inscribed “ Diary” 
to which had been added in ink, “of a fool and 
a failure.” 

Placing this book in his bosom Mazoombah 
returned to the deck. The efforts to resuscitate 
the poor wretch had been unavailing. The man 
whose diary he held, was dead. 

Reginald was leaning over Aleita listening to 
her rhythmic breathing. “ Thank God, she 
has heard nothing,” said he, with a sigh of re- 
lief. Then softly closing the door he went to 
the room of his friend. 

Mazoombah held in his hand the red mo- 
rocco book. He was very pale. “ The dan- 
ger is passed,” said he. “ Read that,” pointing 
to the open page. 

“ Midnight . — All is ready, only a few fools linger on deck 
watching the stars. But I must wait fully an hour to make 
sure. I have no one but you to talk to, my last and only 
friend and confidant ! It will pass the time and be some- 
thing to do ; better than thinking. 

“ And you, my stately beauty, my Esther — my temptress— 
and my ruin. You were not pleased, were you — ^when you 


132 


THE MASKED PROPHET 


found I was on board ! You turned very white and then 
very red. It was a pity to spoil your journey, wasn’t it 

“ I saw you in your lying loveliness go into your stateroom 
just now, and I laughed. Yes, I laughed. It was almost 
happiness. I wonder if that dupe who calls you his ‘ wife,’ 
thinks you love him. Let him make the most of your mad- 
dening kisses now ; they are his last. I know them well ! 
They fired my brain once, and made me first think I was a 
poet, and then know, I was a thief and a forger! And it 
was all for you — that I might be rich enough to marry you. 
I dreamed of just such a bridal journey with you, and bar- 
tered my soul for it, and then lost — curse you 1 

“ But now, in an hour you’ll be just as much my bride as 
his ; and I’ll take you, and every soul on this ship, on such 
a bridal journey as was never taken 'before ! We’ll not go 
alone, dear, but in true royal fashion. People will have to 
accept whether they want to or not. 

“ They thought they built this ship strong with its stan- 
chions of oak, and ribs of steel ; but I have that in this little 
bag which will scatter its fragments like an egg-shell. And 
I’m a benefactor in doing it, too. Life is anguish, torture, 
and annihilation is peace I Nobody knows that I am a thief 
and a forger but you and I, my confidant, and we will never 
tell, will we ? 

“ That girl with the fair hair and large blue eyes, who 
hangs on the words of her husband ; who is she ? They call 
her Aleita. Why did she make me tremble ? I should have 
done this last night but for her. The face haunted me 
through the night and stayed my hand till now,” 


THE MASKED PROPHET 


133 


Aleita beguiled many hours on the steamer in 
writing a letter to her mother in journal form. 
The following extract will give further particu- 
lars of the tragedy which had occurred on board. 

^‘Oh, mammal I have such a terrible thing to write to- 
day ! A young man last night, while we all slept, threw 
himself into the sea 1 No one knows why life should have 
been intolerable to a beautiful youth of twenty years ; but 
only that alone and in the darkness, he ended it. And I — 
who have believed my strongest desire was to help the 
wretched — to lighten the load of anguish in unhappy lives — 

I — was unjust to him. Yes — unjust perhaps in my aversion 
and suspicion. Oh, mamma ! I feel such remorse. I can 
hardly forgive myself. I conceived an aversion for him ! 

I would not let Reginald speak to him or go near him ! 

/ 

Only yesterday afternoon, a few hours before his suicide, he 
tried to draw from Reginald his views of a future life. I 
saw them together and insisted that Doctor Mazoombah 
should bring Reginald away. He might have helped him — 
and I might have helped him too. I am overwhelmed at 
the recollection. 

“ They will not let me see him ; but I am told he is beau- 
tiful in the awful tranquility of death. The burial service 
will be performed this afternoon. The beautiful lady of 
whom I wrote you, who was so kind the. other day, swooned 
when she saw him, and has been quite delirious since. The 
ship’s surgeon is taking care of her. She has a dark fierce^ 


134 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


looking husband, whom I do not like. I am sorry for her ; 
but he will not permit me or anyone to do anything for her.” 

While Aleita was writing these words, her 
husband and Doctor Mazoombah were alone in 
earnest conversation. 

“But that glass,” said Reginald, “by what 
magic does it reveal such processes ? ” 

“Simply by making visible the invisible. By 
extending the natural powers of the human eye. 
There is no more ‘magic’ in it, than in the 
microscope. To ignorance the simplest things 
are mysteries. The savage who first saw one 
read a message written upon a bit of wood, cried 
in wonder ‘ Chip talks ! ’ 

“The truth is everything talks ; and as man 
develops he learns to read more and more for- 
ward as well as backward. That is all. 

“ The Western philosophy begins at the 
wrong end of the problem. That is the reason 
it gropes and stumbles so. You observe the 
phenomena, and then work toward the centre ; 
instead of beginning at the centre and working 
outward to the phenomena. 

“To begin with your language is so childish 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


I3S 


and misleading. There is no ‘magic’ but the 
magic of nature. And the ‘ Occult ’ is simply 
a name for what your undeveloped conscious- 
ness has not yet grasped. 

“ But all this will soon be made plain to you. 
A calamity or a crime, such as that wretched 
boy intended, is as much a psychic fact in its in- 
tention and preparation, as in its physical culmi- 
nation. Certain processes attend its approach 
just as much as in the approach of a cyclone. 

“ You recollect in your vision of the worship- 
ers in a Cathedral, you saw that they were in a 
net-work of interlacing lines of force. Those 
are of the same nature, only different in inten- 
sity and kind, from those revealed yesterday by 
my glass ; and knowledge and experience have 
taught some of us to read their meaning ; just 
as you in your world have learned to read the 
barometer and the spectrum. 

“ You are such a child in these matters it is 
difficult to explain in a way that you can com- 
prehend,” said the old man wearily, as he walked 
the deck back and forward. 

“ But,” he added after a pause, “as I told you, 


136 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Reginald, you are a child of the Orient ; by na- 
ture and by inheritance. Shall I tell you why ? 
Your former soul development was under the 
shadow of the Himalayas. This hunger for 
truth you have always felt, is a striving to re-as- 
sert your former abundant soul-life, and to en- 
ter upon that supremacy over natural forces 
which is your birthright. What others must 
have years to acquire, you will grasp in months, 
or at a single glance.” 

Had a kingdom been promised him, Reginald 
could not have felt such exaltation, 

“ And Aleita,” inquired he, “will she share 
it with me ? ” 

Mazoombah looked grave, almost stern. 

‘ She must have none of it,” said he. “ Do you 
not see ? — she is only lightly poised now, between 
this world and the invisible. Would you have her 
vanish, melt away from your arms ? No, keep 
her mind strongly fixed upon her earth-life ; 
avoid what you call the ‘ occult ’ when with her.” 

“ But, Doctor, she is my wife, a part of my- 
self. Our union is too perfect for me to keep 
from her an object I have so deeply at heart. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


137 


How can I give myself fully, as I ought and 
must, to this pursuit of knowledge, without her 
knowing it ? ” 

“ You can if you must,” said Mazoombah 
dryly. “ Self-control is one of the first things you 
must acquire in order to know and to be. If 
your wife’s highest good requires you not to tell 
her of your new soul-expansion — why, — you are 
less of a man than I think you are, if you do in- 
form her. 

“ The time will come when she can and will 
share it with you ; but not until her earth-life is 
fortified by new ties and experiences, which are 
the true source of real power.” 

The old man was silent for a moment ; then 
placing a hand upon his friend’s shoulder and 
looking straight into his eyes, he said, Listen — 
it is not I who am saying this. You are hearing 
the words of the Master. He has spoken them 
to me.” 

There was a profound silence after these 
words, broken at last by Mazoombah. 

“ If, as I hope, it is the dawning of a new soul 
life which has produced these psychic disturb- 


138 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


ances in your wife, all will be well. You need 
have no fears then. I do not wonder that you 
are moved,” said he, kindly, laying his hand on 
Reginald’s bowed head. “The child of such a 
union, and more especially such a mother, 
should be a rare gift to your race. It may be 
he will be a leader in the new era and higher 
development which is coming in your land. It 
would not be strange, but most natural for this 
to occur.” 

Reginald arose, paced two or three times up 
and down the room ; then pausing before 
Mazoombah he said with broken voice : 

“ Do with me as you will. I shall try to 
deserv'e my happiness. If I ought, as you say, 
to leave her for a time, forget her, banish her 
from my life, in order to give myself entirely to 
the instruction of the Master, I will do it.” 

“ That is well,” said the doctor, smiling as he 
grasped the outstretched hand. “ It need not 
be yet. There is time enough. The place to 
which I am conducting you is, as you know, 
very remote, on the southern slope of the 
Himalayas, But there are several English 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


139 


speaking families near by. Aleita will have 
companionship and care, and the comforts to 
which she is accustomed. She will revel in the 
natural beauty of the place, find much to interest 
her in the strangeness of the native life about 
her. Her physical health will be renewed and 
abounding. So that the separation from you 
will not harm her. She has a passionate pity 
for suffering ; a longing to comfort and relieve. 
That will be for her as for all of us, the divinest 
occupation. Encourage it. There is not in the 
universe, better medicine for the body, nor 
tonic for the soul. You are only striving after 
an enlarged consciousness of processes, while 
such work as I describe, is the power behind the 
process. Love and mercy and truth are the life 
of the universe.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


The journey from Calcutta up the Ganges as 
far as Dinapur, was long and full of strange in- 
terest. Then, the travelers turned toward the 
great mountain-range stretching like a wall across 
the northern boundary of India. But it seemed 
to be ever receding as they struggled to reach 
its sunny southern slopes. At last Mazoombah 
pointed to an elevation like a green pyramid, 
and said, “ When we pass that we will see the 
settlement.” 

Joyful words ! And still more joyful realiza- 
tion ! No words can picture, no canvas repre- 
sent the scene which was suddenly revealed to 
them as they emerged from a narrow pass which 
opened as a gateway upon a Paradise ; with 
towering snow-capped mountains affording 
majestic shelter and blissful repose. 

With what a strange thrill did Reginald gaze 


THE MASHED PEOPHET. 


141 


at that outline against the sky ! And why did 
they seem to him familiar as the Blue Ridge at 
Luray? Ah, yes, these were new, and yet they 
seemed old, acquaintances of days gone by, 
days of vapory dreams. 

Even here in this far off fastness of the Him- 
alayas, a small colony of English people had 
made thejr habitation, and joyfully welcomed 
them. Days and weeks passed on swift pin- 
ions. There were e.xploring parties to places of 
interest far and near. 

A new, fresh, wholesome tide of life had come 
to Aleita. There were no more visions. No 
languor, no forebodings of evil. 

The solitudes rang with her joyous laugh, as 
with cheeks dyed a brilliant vermilion, and eyes 
sparkling, she performed prodigies of climbing. 
Her husband revelled in her joy and in her un- 
folding beauty ; which opened as a damask rose 
in the sunlight of a genial clime. 

Each day seemed to rivet the chain which 
bound him to her side. How could he leave 
her? And how tell her that he must? It was 
an ever-present shadow in his heart. And it 


142 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


was with a pang that he left her during the early 
hours of every morning, for meditation and 
study in a secluded spot far up the mountain 
side. While the stars were still shining, and 
while she still slept, he would climb ■ the dizzy 
heights, and then strive to forget her, in the 
mastery of a new and absorbing passion ; a pas- 
sion for knowledge and Divine Truth. 

Mazoombah had not misjudged his pupil’s 
love for orientalism. He seemed to be not 
learning, but recalling what he already knew. 
As he realized that the time was near when he 
should hold mastery over matter, instead of 
matter holding dominion over him, he felt no 
surprise, but simply that he was coming into his 
inheritance. He was going to take his rightful 
place in the universe of atoms. He realized 
that he was (as are all of us) potentially a God. 
Did not Christ himself say so? ‘‘What I do ye 
can do also!” And again, “Are ye not all 
Gods?” 

With this consciousness of power came a new 
exhilaration of spirit which did not escape the 
all-seeing eye of Mazoombah. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


H3 


“ My son,” said he, shaking his head, “ you 
will have much to learn. After you have ac- 
quired these things, you will have next to learn 
not to do them, except in a spirit of prayer. 
There lies the danger and the snare. 

“ Oh, my people ! My people ! ” said Ma- 
zoombah, solemnly. “You have eaten of the 
tree of Knowledge and are driven out of Paradise 
because this knowledge has been used for un- 
holy purposes! My people — the last of an au- 
gust race, you are counted a nation of miracle- 
workers, magicians, jugglers ! You are less than 
the least among the nations, degraded by those 
fakirs ! 

“ I would sweep them all away,” said he, with 
a passionate wave of his outstretched hand. 
“ W retched beings, who juggle and steal the 
fire of Heaven for blasphemous purposes ! Was 
it for this that you toiled and suffered ? Oh, my 
Brothers ! that a crowd of gaping, ignorant 
wonder-seekers should watch the growth of a 
mango tree ! or see one of those lying beggars 
climb into the sky on a rope 1— Faugh !” with a 
gesture of disgust, 


144 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


“ But you do not mean that these things were 
not done ?” asked Reginald. 

“ I did not say that,” was the reply. “ But I 
do say that where their small stock of knowledge, 
which they sacrilegiously abuse, is insufficient, 
they piece it out with hynotism and cheating, a 
most unholy mixture of truth and falsehood.” 

Here the old man was long silent after this 
vehemence. Finally he said : 

“ Reginald, if you do acquire such mastery 
over nature, as you value your soul’s progress 
beware what you do with it ! Remember — any 
violent reversal of nature’s processes of the 
spiritual law leaves a thousand broken threads, 
which have all to be knit together again through 
long laborious waiting and watching. A tem- 
ple may be taken down by the master builder, 
the architect, and again resurrected. Yet when 
rent asunder by great violence, new materials 
and a new structure is a necessity.” 

“ But you employ these powers,” urged Regi- 
nald. “ You did so when you came to us on the 
steamer, 800 miles from land.” 

“Certainly, but I co-operated with Nature in 


THE MASKED PROEhET. 


145 


doing so. There was no conflict. I simply 
adopted a spiritual law and came by a swifter 
and more direct method than you had already 
done by physical law. But, if I should now, as 
I might, disintegrate this material body for a 
selfish design of my own, that would be a piece of 
daring for which I would surely pay the penalty. 
You cannot set back your watch without injury 
to its intricate mechanism. Do you think Na- 
ture is less complicated, less nicely adjusted?” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


An ancient city had once stood on a spot 
about a day’s journey from “ Paradise,” as Ale- 
ita had named their abode. Only a few archi- 
tectural ruins told the story of its past splendor. 
But Aleita’s heart was set upon a visit there. 
The kind doctor as usual smoothed the practi- 
cal difficulties in the way, by finding a place 
where they could comfortably lodge near to the 
ruins of this long dead city. 

The site of the city was a high plateau which 
overlooked a vast area of rolling surface, stretch- 
ing like the sea into the horizon ; while behind 
it rose gigantic snow white peaks, like cimeters 
of glistening steel. The ruins of a wall were dis- 
tinctly visible on the north and west, partly defin- 
ing the city limits ; while enough of a gateway 
remained to suggest its colossal proportions and 
magnificent lines. Time’s destroying finger had 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


147 


been busy with the finer parts of the carvings, 
but enoLigli remained to show the splendor of 
the art in that remote age. 

From the moment the gateway was passed a 
spell seemed to fall upon the three explorers. 
Aleita was silent — awe stricken. The color 
faded from her cheeks, and her husband trem- 
bled when he saw her hand pass several times 
across her forehead, while she looked with pene- 
trating anxious gaze into space. Suddenly she 
pointed toward the vine-covered remains of a 
wall, and said in a whisper : 

" There — there they are. Do you see ? ’’ 

“ Who, dear Aleita? What is it,-love ?” 

“ Why, the mother — the son, and the beauti- 
ful girl he was going to marry I cannot see 
his face, and his arms are around the young 
girl, and she is weeping, and he says — sh — sh — 
I want to hear what he says. The words are 
strange, but I understand them now — he says, 
‘ Don’t weep and break my heart.’ He takes 
a ring off his finger and tells her to keep it. It 
is a signet ring with a red stone, and cut deep in 
it, is a crown, and under it a serpent. And the 


148 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


mother — she does not weep, but keeps her eyes 
fixed on her son — and prays. Now — he takes 
them both in his arms and says, * Help me, O 
God, to be brave and true.’ And to the young 
girl he whispers, ‘ Through eternity you will 
be mine.’ Now I cannot see any more,” and 
she sighed deeply. There — there — now I see 
— such a strange place.” 

Reginald’s face was pale as her own. y “ What 
do you see, darling?” he asked, in a hoarse whis- 
per. Again her hand passed across her fore- 
head, and she said wearily, 

“ I will try to tell you. I do not know that I can. 

“ It is a city — a strange looking city, with 
high mountains back of it. Oh — so high ! and 
all shining in the sunlight. The streets are 
filled with people. It must be a great festival, 
for there is music — wild and strange — and men 
with long spears on horseback, and some on 
elephants and camels, and all wear scarfs upon 
their heads — some white and some scarlet and 
yellow, and embroidered brilliant-colored tunics, 
and there are thousands of jewels flashing in the 
sunlight — all moving and tossing and changing 


THE MASKED PKOTHET. 


149 

like the sea. Some are kneeling — some with 
their faces on the earth. There is shouting 
and crying, and some are weeping — others danc- 
ing and leaping as if they were mad. They must 
be waiting for something. They all look to- 
ward that castle with wonderful carvings all 
over it. A great gate is opening now — and — 
do you hear that ?” placing her hands over her 
ears. “ Oh— such a wild shouting, it sounds 
like a storm at sea. And now there — there — a 
young man — tlieone I saw just now — it’s the same, 
— two men with spears are on each side of him. 
The scarf on his liead, and his long robes are 
dazzling white and, O God ! his hands are tied 
behind him ! I cannot see his face, but he walks 
like a kimr going to be crowned. Sh — he is 
speaking softly to himself — ‘ Surrender — suffer- 
ing — then sacrifice. All is done now. What 
can I do more than die 'i ' 

“ The people on foot follow the men with spears 
and the elephants ; a great procession, and he 
walks at the head — like a king — ^oh, yes — like a 
king ! 

“ The awful music and drums and cymbals and 
shouting It makes a roar like a waterfall. 


ISO 


THE MASKED PROPHET 


“ They are coming to a great open space' and 
there stands on a high knoll a cream-white ele- 
phant. He is covered with scarlet and embroid- 
ery and jewels, and a blazing diamond is on his 
forehead. They have stopped now. The man 
sitting on the elephant’s head, waves a red flag, 
and there is a blast of trumpets sounded three 
times. How still it is in an instant ! Some have 
thrown themselves on their faces on the earth. 
The young man stands there firm and still in 
front of the elephant, with a great block of wood 
at his feet. There’s a man with a \on^ flowinor 
beard, and dressed all in white. He is standing 
up on the back of the elephant. He stretches 
out his hand and points down to the young man 
in white robes. His hand trembles. He says: 

“ ‘ Now you will see what becomes of him who 
reviles our gods. He thought he knew more 
than the priests, did he ? And he would teach a 
better religion, would he? Watch and see if 
his God saves him, when he lays his head on 
that block. — O thou doomed man, kneel. Yet 
no. Wait — he is a king’s son, so he may look 
once more upon the mountains and upon the 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


151 

people. So it is written. I must be just. — Strike 
off his shackles that he may die as becomes his 
rank. — Outcast — blasphemer — look your last 
upon the face of man and great nature, before 
this sacred animal tramples out your accursed 
life.’ 

“ I cannot see his face yet — but I feel that it 
is shininff — oh ! with such radiance. Now he 

o 

is turning slowly — looking long with uplifted 
hands at — O God ! — it’s Reginald — it’s Regi- 
nald ! ” A wild piercing shriek rent the air, and 
.\leita fell fainting into the arms of her hus- 
band. 

As Reginald listened to Aleita’s recital of 
what she saw the portals of memory, long closed, 
seemed striving to open. And there had been a 
growing conviction that the doomed youth was 
none other than himself. It needed not the 
climax of Aleita’s recognition for him to know 
that it was so, as the past ages glided swiftly be- 
fore him like a panorama. 

But now — all was swept away, swallowed up 
in the present anxiety for Aleita. Mazoombah 
prepared a bed of rugs and pillows and they laid 


152 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


her tenderly upon it ; the doctor listening vainly 
for her breath with a hand upon her pulseless 
wrist. The seconds seemed hours to Reginald. 

“Doctor,” whispered he, “how is it with 
her?” 

“I cannot read the future any more than I 
can control the present,” was the grave reply. 
Austerity was always the cloak this kind heart 
wore when deeply moved. 

Reginald knew this, and was suffering un- 
speakable torture in the silence which followed. 
At last it was broken. 

“ I think you will have need of all your 
courage, my poor son ; I can perceive no sign of 
life. 

“ The attraction heavenward was strong, and 
the ties here frail. We could hardly expect — ” 

“My God!” interrupted Reginald, wildly — 
“you talk as if she were dead ! What do you 
mean, man ? ” seizing his arm fiercely. 

“ Be composed,” said the doctor, sternly. 
“ Her spirit may be still hovering, and do you 
not know that a storm of grief may determine 
its flight? Do you not think my own heart is 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


153 


breaking ? Why do you suppose I am calm ? 
Is it because I do not feel ? ” And two great 
tears rolled down his cheeks and dropped on the 
white, limp little hand. 

Reginald sank on his knees, and buried his 
face in her pillow, and not a sound broke the 
stillness as the doctor poured some limpid drops 
on her tongue and leaned his head upon the 
breast of the seemingly lifeless girl. Presently he 
started, and nodded to Reginald. Stronger and 
stronger grew the faint breathings and pulsations, 
pallor deepened into the rose tint of health, and 
she slept sweetly and naturally. 

Mazoombah motioned to Reginald to follow 
him. “ We must carry her to the bungalow ; 
she will not awaken, and will sleep probably 
some hours, and she must be removed before 
the dew falls.” 

During all of the still hours of the night the 
two watchers waited in an adjoining room. 

“ Will she recollect what she had seen ? ” 
asked Reginald. 

“ Nothing. Did she remember that vision on 
the steamer ? ” Then after a pause, Mazoom- 


154 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


bah continued : “ My son, I am entrusted with a 
commission from the chief of our Brotherhood. 
Some weeks ago I received from the Master this 
ring with a message I could not then comprehend. 
It was ‘ Give this to the rightful owner, an inheri- 
tance from his father, a king.’ Take what is your 
own. It was found in a tomb over yonder, and 
the Master has kept it for you these many 
years.” 

Reginald took the jewel in his hand. It was a 
large signet ring, and deeply cut on the red stone 
was a crown and beneath it a serpent. 

There could be no words at such a moment 
as that. Reginald held in his hand the visible 
link connecting his present and his past life. 
He sank down upon the rugs speechless and 
motionless, trying to realize it. 

At last he arose. There was a new expression 
in his pale rigid face, as he said : 

“ I must be worthy of myself. The soul of a 
martyr is a great legacy. I must deserve it. 
I shall go without delay to the Master.” 

Mazoombah embraced him silently, and during 
all the hours of their vigil neither spoke again. 


THE MASKED PkOPHET. 


155 


Aleita was iri a few days as well as before, and 
not a little mortified that she should have fainted 
while at the ruined city. There was no pretext 
now for further delay, and Reginald nerved him- 
self to tell her. 

“ Dearest,” he said, “ I am about to put your 
love and courage to a severe test. I am going 
away — far away, on urgent business. I may be 
gone a long time ; and I cannot even write 
you letters.” 

She looked at him with startled wondering 
eyes. “ Why can you not write ? ” she faltered. 

“ Because for one reason, the place is remote 
and inaccessible. No telegraphs or railroads, 
dear. You will have to trust me. Will you ? 
Can you trust me?” he trembled and felt like a 
culprit, as he saw the look of pain and perplexity 
in her face. But it passed, and placing both 
hands on his, she answered firmly : 

“ I cannot understand — but if it is important 
and urgent, as you say, you must go, and I can 
wait and watch.” 

“ My darling, you know only necessity would 
tear me from your side now. May I feel that 
you are content ? ” • 


156 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


“Yes — you may — you must feel that I am 
content and even happy. 

“ If I think you are unhappy, my dear Aleita, 
it will weaken my own courage, and wall perhaps 
be fatal to something I have deeply at heart.” 

“ But I shall not be unhappy,” said she with a 
reassuring smile, as she seemed looking faraway 
into space. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


On the night before his departure Reginald 
sat watching Mazoombah as he walked back 
and forth across the floor in deep thought, and 
he finally broke the long silence by saying: 
“ Doctor, you have several times in our conver- 
sations on these occult matters referred to the 
‘ The Christ,’ ‘ The Saviour,’ ‘ The Old and the 
New Testament,’ and always in such a manner 
as to show how accurate is your information, 
and the respectful tone would leave one in 
doubt as to your views of Christ’s mission on 
earth, or His divine origin. Would you be 
good enough to give me your convictions on 
the claims of the Christian religion. Briefly as 
you can, Docor, for I realize that I am asking 
too much perhaps even in this form.” 

Mazoombah stopped short in front of his com- 
panion stroking his beard continuously until Reg- 


•58 


THE MASfCED PROPHET. 


inalcl had finished. Then he said softly with 
mellififiuous vibrations in his voice : 

“Yes, I have always spoken with respect for 
the Christ whom your people revere and wor- 
ship not only as a God, but as the God. I 
would not pain you by referring to this Per- 
son in an offensive manner if I wished to per- 
suade you to my way of looking at the truth. 
Nor would I willingly mislead you as to my be- 
lief on these matters, which I think so vital to hu- 
man progress and welfare. Of course you and 1 
can perfectly agree that the New Testament is 
founded on the Old and that the Divine nature 
and origin of the Christ is based on the prophecies 
of this Old Testament. So that in fact the whole 
Christian religion or scheme of salvation has 
authority only in the Old Testament. First 
of all, the necessity for a Saviour comes through 
the sin of Adam in eating- the forbidden fruit 
in the Garden of Eden. Now many intelligent 
and liberal Christians say that the story of the 
eating of the forbidden fruit and even the Gar- 
den of Eden, was one of those Eastern allego- 
ries, or of heathen mythology, and that most 


THE MASKED PEOPHET. 


tS9 

advanced Christians nowadays do not believe in 
the book of Genesis literally, or fiat creation, 
but in evolution instead. If evolution be sub- 
stantially true, then man was not made perfect, 
and fell through eating the forbidden fruit, and 
God was not angered thereby. Then for what 
and whence comes the necessity for a Saviour, a 
sacrifice, the atonement, on which the Christian 
doctrine rests ? No, my dear Reginald, the Old 
and the New Testaments must stand or fall to- 
gether, on the old interpretations of infallibility 
and inspiration. The Old Testament, as all 
careful thinkers and scholars know, is largely 
made up from the Pagan writings, from hea- 
then mythology, and in many instances the Jews 
did not take the trouble to even change the 
verbiage, to say nothing of the sense, but liter- 
ally adopted parts they wanted without the 
slightest change in any respect. Of this we the 
Brotherhood have living witnesses which we 
cannot offer you. But “ Diegesis” by Rev. Rob^ 
Taylor, A. B., M. R. C. S., which you can obtain 
at any library, will give you abundant authority 
for this statement. Now if the Old Testament is 


i6o 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


SO defective as an inspired work, how can the New 
Testament, having such a faulty foundation, be 
true or perfect ?’ Indeed the New Testament is 
much like the Old, borrowed, patched and inter- 
polated, here and there, to suit the purposes of 
those priests and monks who had the MSS. in 
keeping for many hundred years before there was 
any attempt made to publish in book form the 
Bible. That ‘the ends justifies the means,’ is 
the ready defense of the Catholic Church for this 
and all such acts, we well know. Of course when 
the Convention of Bishops which formulated the 
Bible met, there was no pretense of inspiration or 
authority given them, save that of King James’ 
Commission. The diversity of opinion in the dis- 
cussions and the votes cast shows how widely 
divergent were these opinions and convictions of 
the members. Some of the MSS. submitted as 
inspired writings were voted out as spurious, by a 
small majority, and others were voted in as fully 
inspired by an equally slender plurality. So that 
you can see how necessary it would be in any 
student who reads this book to find the truth, 
to continually weigh the evidence pro and con 


THE MASKED PKOPHET. i6i 

and arrive at a conclusion of his own. If the 
decision of a majority was conclusive evidence 
of inspiration, or infallibility, then on this ma- 
jority could rest the claim, otherwise there is 
a grave doubt ever present in the minds of 
thinking men on all the important points set 
forth.” 

Reginald waited until the doctor had ceased 
speaking, then he said, “ I suppose you would 
discredit all the miracles performed by the 
Christ as frauds since they cannot be accounted 
for by natural law.” 

“ No, my friend, I would not say that these 
so-called miracles were frauds, but I will say 
there was great room and inducement for fraud 
in the performance or the recording of them. 
You must understand that I do not admit such a 
thing as a miracle. Whatever takes place is done 
according to law ; and the operation of the occult 
is the miraculous to the ignorant mind. But 
there is nothing set forth in the New Testament 
as having been done or performed by the Christ 
which cannot be done to-day by some of the 
Brotherhood if the occasion should require it. 


i 62 


THE MASKED E ROE MET. 


Not as a show, but as a religious duty. Yes, even 
to rising from the death tomb and rolling back 
the stone. The turning the water into wine, 
can be done by many of the initiates, and so on 
through the list of the so-called miracles. You 
must remember that the elements out of which 
the material forms of all things were crystalized, 
condensed or solidified, are all about us in the 
air we breathe, the ether above and about us. 
The sun’s rays are filled with these subtle ele- 
ments, and a strong mind well learned in Na- 
ture’s higher laws may command them in the in- 
stant, and obedience follows. So that in the 
moment, you have what would have taken 
months and perhaps years to accomplish by Na- 
ture’s slower process with which you are famil- 
iar.” 

“ Then, Doctor, am I to understand that you 
believe the Christ was an adept, and that he 
performed these acts as a religious observance ?” 

“ Hardly so far as that, Reginald,” said the 
doctor, slowly. “ I would rather say, if the 
Christ did perform these acts accredited to him 
in the New Testament, then I would maintain 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


163 


that he was an adept, and that it was done in the 
same manner and by the same laws that they 
can be done to-day by our Brotherhood. In re- 
gard to the terms used by you a while ago re- 
ferring to God and the Devil, good and evil, I 
would say that I believe implicitly in a God and 
I do not believe in a personal devil. God I 
conceive to occupy the universe in the same 
sense that your spirit occupies your physical 
body, and that the same laws which control 
the universe controls the unit. Do you recall 
the drop of blood and the beings you beheld 
therein ? So like one of those little creatures 
are we related to God, as it were circulating in 
His veins, being a part of the Mighty Whole. 
The Devil is only evil, ignorance, the absence 
of wisdom. God — good, are positive ; devil — 
evil, are negative. Wisdom, knowledge — posi- 
tive ; ignorance, sin, suffering — negative. Light, 
beauty, harmony, are positive ; darkness and its 
concomitants are the negative. So through 

o o 

the whole catalogue we might run. 

o o 

“Yes, my dear boy,” pursued the doctor, 
smiling, “ I see you want the promised expla- 


164 the masked prophet. 

nation of the ‘ heart’s desire, the efficacy of 
prayer’ answered, as I promised. 

“ Well, what is generally understood as the 
answer to prayer I do not believe in. Prayer 
in my view can only be answered when the heart 
formulates it intelligently and in accordance 
with the law of our being. Thus if I pray that 
God will send light, wisdom, peace, and plenty 
to suffering humanity, in some mysterious way 
and out of His bountiful love and all powerful 
will, there would be very small chance for such 
a prayer to get an -early answer. But sup- 
pose I pray from the great depths of my heart 
that I may be imbued with wisdom, love, char- 
ity, benevolence, so that I shall go forth with 
the fervor of spirit which maketh alive and 
teach and help the lowly, the ignorant, and the 
suffering, in the highways and byways. Every 
time that prayer finds utterance, the heart is 
made warmer, the head wiser, and the hands 
stronger in the same manner that the muscle 
responds to the gymnast’s repeated exercise, 
until finally we find ourselves equipped for the 
task and the prayer answered according to law. 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


165 


And believe me, my dear Reginald, no other 
answer can come except in accord with the law 
of our being, and it is as sure of an answer, as 
the utterance from the heart is earnest and 
honest. 

“ This kind of prayer is the most potent 
factor in the universe for the redemption of man 
from the sin of sins, ignorance. 

“If it does not weary you too much, Reginald, 
I could tell you of the answer to prayer in my 
own experience. 

“You will not weary me. Doctor; just wait a 
moment and I will see how Aleita is resting and 
then I shall only be too glad to hear you.” 

Soon Reginald returned and Doctor Mazoom- 
bah proceeded with his experience. 

“ I was many years ago made to suffer as none 
but a sensitive, loving and confiding nature can. 
So intense was the anguish from moral and 
spiritual torture that scalding tears ran down my 
cheeks for many months, whilst the fires raged 
within, and finally the tears ceased to flow, the 
fountains being dried up, and the scorched sands 
in the heart were almost melted. The spirit sat in 


i66 


THE MAS 1C ED PROPHET. 


the seat of suffering dumbly waiting for the end 
to come. I almost ceased to suffer and I 
tramped over hot plowshares as I stolidly 
watched sodden humanity battling with this 
demon of ignorance and oppression, and like a 
brazen image I said, ‘ Yes,I know you suffer. So 
did I once, but be patient — there will cornea time 
when you can no longer suffer, and like myself 
you will look on the agony of others and feel no 
pain — no sympathy.’ Then I became alarmed at 
my condition. I tried to help ; I strove to ex- 
press sympathy, all to no purpose ; there was no 
warmth, no love, no fervor. I seemed paralyzed. 

“ So I tried to pray that I might have a new 
lease of life, that I might again have love, 
sympathy, strength, wisdom, that I might again 
feel and suffer with the unfortunate. Day after 
day the prayer or the words were uttered, at first 
as an automaton might pray. The heart could 
not be brought to respond. A poor woman with 
a babe in her arms fell exhausted almost at my 
feet. I took the child in my arms, helped her 
home, a small meagre room in a hovel, every- 
thing so clean but bare of all comforts. The 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


167 


little one had fallen asleep holding my fin- 
gers as I walked along, and I sat holding the 
little sleeper in my arms as the poor tired mother 
related her sad story. And when she had 
finished my heart was in my throat, beating 
wildly with real sympathy and sorrow as it had 
not done in years before, and real tears came to 
my relief. From that time on I could get the 
heart to pray in earnest, and I have grown 
stronger day by day. And thus my prayer was 
answered, as many have been since abundantly 
fulfilled. 

“ So much for the Christian religion. Now 
for the ‘ Christ.’ I would not afo so far as 
many disbelievers and say that there never was 
such a person as Jesus Christ. But I am com- 
pelled to say that I do not believe he was born 
of a virgin called Mary or of any virgin, nor do I 
believe that he was any more the Son of God 
than you or 1, except in the degree that he had 
in previous incarnations acquired through experi- 
ence more of the Divine wigdom, as is evidenced 
by the beautiful truths he taught in all of their 
simple grandeur. 


1 68 MASKED PROPHET. 

“ If his so-called Apostles and followers had 
been content to teach and follow those simple 
doctrines of the* Fatherhood of God, the Mother- 
hood of Nature and the Brotherhood of man,’ then 
indeed would the Christ have come, not in vain. 
But I will not offend your fine religious sense, 
which in spite of orthodox theology hath in it the 
true spirit of the Christ, of our Lord Budah and 
many other Saviours who came to lift up and not 
to destroy mankind. So you see, my dear Reg- 
inald, you have gotten more than you asked for, 
but I am sure not more than will profit you, if 
it is but received in the sjDirit of love wdiich 
bestows it.” 

Reginald grasped the outstretched hand of 
the doctor with a warmth which left no need of 
words to show his appreciation of what had been 
said. 

“ Then I understand. Doctor, that you do not 
differ essentially with the spirit of the teachings 
of the Christ as spoken by himself in all their 
simplicity and breadth.” 

“ No, certainly not, Reginald. Budah taught 
these same simple loving doctrines and many of 


THE MASKED PROPHET. l6g 

his followers to-day practice them in their every 
day life. 

“ Indeed, my dear boy, there is but scant differ- 
ence in the essential truths which underlie all 
the religions of the different races of men. If 
mankind could only be made to realize that 
humanity is in truth one great brotherhood, and 
of one common Father, who without favoritism 
reads the hearts of his children, and gives to each 
according to his needs, and his heart’s desires ; 
and that no mediator can avail half so much as 
the faithful child appealing directly to a loving 
Father. This would simplify religion and do away 
with the selfish and often hypocritical priests and 
preachers whose living and profession depends 
upon magnifying the distance between the 
Creator and his creatures, the Father and his 
children. He mystifies the simple things of life 
and obscures the plain truths, in order to enlarge 
his office.” 

“In time, though. Doctor, we will have teach- 
ers and preachers who will speak the whole truth 
unselfishly and without stint, so that religion 
as you say will be simplified and each individual 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


170 

can largely do his own thinking on these sub- 
jects.” 

“Truly so, Reginald, and you and I can serve 
our fellows in no better way than in advancing 
the dawn of this brighter and better day by all 
the powers which in us lie.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


He had gone. The weeks rolled into months ; 
and six times the moon had waxed and waned — 
and still he did not come. Aleita bore it with 
marvelous, courage and fortitude, although the 
doctor saw with many a pang that the burden 
of silence and mystery was wearing upon her 
delicate frame. Her large wistful eyes began to 
pain him so that he had not the courage to meet 
them. He determined to go, and at once, to 
urge Reginald’s return, and for consultation with 
the Master. 

But that same day when he had gone, the long 
waiting was ended. In the bright sunshine she 
saw Reginald enter — safe, smiling, a little pale 
and worn ; but oh ! with such joy in his face, as 
he folded her once more in his arms. 

“Did you lose faith in me, darling?” he 
whispered. “ Did you think I was cruel ? 


172 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


Sometime, dear one, I will tell you all — not now,” 
— then holding her at arm’s length he looked 
long and earnestly into the trusting eyes. “ And 
you are well, dear ? ” said he, tenderly. 

“Yes, my Rex, my husband, I am well and 
happy, now that you are home again.” 

As soon as the stars were out they wandered 
far away where they might alone exchange sweet 
confidences after the long separation. They 
paused under the shadow of a convent. An old 
ruin which had been pieced and patched with 
rambling wooden structures. A high bell-tower 
in the centre outlined against the sky. 

“ There is my star,” said Aleita, laughinglj^ 

“ Y our star ? Where ? What do you mean ? ” 
asked he, disturbed. 

“ Oh, nothing — except that when I was a child 
a little girl friend and I each selected a star, 
which we called our own. It was a silly fancy, 
and I used to talk to mine as if it could hear and 
answer my questions and requests.” 

“ Where is it? ” asked Reginald. 

“ There — only that little faint star over the 
Pleiades. Do you see ? Why I did not select 
a sensible star like Orion or ” 


THU MASKED PROPHET. 


173 


Both started in affriorht. A tongue of flame 
leaped out of the darkness. . The convent was 
on fire. 

“ My God ! those people are asleep ! ” gasped 
Reginald. “ I must save them.” 

Aleita seemed turned to stone. “ Yes — you 
must save them.” She spoke the words as if 
unconscious of uttering them. There was no 
effort to detain him. Another moment and he 
had plunged into the lurid darkness of smoke 
and fire before them. 

Did she recall the vision on the deck of the 
steamer, as she saw the flames leap higher and 
higher? Did he, as he plunged into the smoke- 
ladened air? 

The whole interior was quickly a great raging 
furnace ; light shining from every crevice, while 
flames poured from the windows. The tower 
with heart eaten out by the flames was outlined 
in black tracery against a fiery background. 
The black skeleton gave a sidelong lurch, and 
then above the roar of the flames, the shrieking 
of the inmates and the cries of the rescuers there 
was an av\ful crash. For a moment the flames 


THE M ashed Prophet, 


^74 

were smothered ; then up again with renewed 
fury they flashed forth. 

Not until this final moment had Aleita moved 
since Reginald left her. She stood motionless 
— her feet rooted to the earth — her eyes fastened 
upon the hideous spectacle. But as the tower 
reeled on its foundations she threw her arms into 
the air and with a despairing cry uttered one 
word — Reginald ! 

Strange arms caught her as she fell. A strange 

o o o 

roof sheltered her that night. No father’s nor 
mother’s smile greeted the child which came 

O 

before morning. He — the father — was he lying 
under those smoking ruins ? And the mother, 
mercifully unconscious of both loss and gain, of 
the life which was gone and the one which was 
come, felt no grief, and no rejoicing. 

It was a cruel fatality which had taken 
Mazoombah away at this hour of supreme 
suffering and need. 

The lines revealed by his glass were so con- 
fusing he knew not how to read them. Bright 
spirals were so intermingled with the sinister zig- 
zag markings, and all formed agroup so strange. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


175 


he resolved to appeal to a higher source for an 
explanation ; to go to the Brotherhood for ad- 
vice — for help. 

The distance to the plains of Thibet was great ; 
but that mattered not. Before sunrise his eyes 
beheld the great desert. As he arrived at the 
supreme centre of the Brotherhood, there came 
to meet him a man with commanding presence, 
who wore his simple garb as if it were royal 
purple. 

“ You have been misled,” said he with a wave 
of his hand. “ Go back. Your place is there. 
You are needed.” 

A deep flush of mortification overspread 
Mazoombah’s face. “ Ah ! ” he said, bowing to 
his superior, “ I knew I was not worthy to bear 
the name of Mahatma.” 

“ Not so, my brother. The conditions are 
unusual. Any of us might have failed to read 
the signs. Go at once. A terrible thing has 
happened.” And Mazoombah sped him back to 
his dutiful path and post near Aleita. 

* H: * * * 

After that last moment at the fire, when Regi- 


1/6 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


nald saw himself sinking into the fearful crater, 
he recollected that he had invoked the great 
powers, so recently acquired for humanity, to 
save his own self, and he seemed to awaken in a 
strange place. His first thought was of Aleita. 
But that was not she ; that dark-haired woman 
lying there moaning in pain. Who was she ? 
And why was she in such distress? Oh! Now 
he remembered her face. She was that young 
girl in the steamer whom that wretched boy who 
drowned himself, loved so madly. How she 
weeps ! She suffers. He will try and help her. 
But he could not. He spoke to her, and she 
did not heed him. And then, he found he was 
drifting out into the darkness. And where was 
the spot where he left Aleita Pit was near here. 
There was the fallen tree on which they sat. 
She is not here. She must be at home. Who 
is that lying so white and still on the bed ? Can 
that be she ? And what is that at her side ? “ O 

God! Itisachild! Mine — hers.” Hestretched 
out his arms with a cry of joy. But he could 
not awaken them to his touch. 

Aleita seemed not to hear him. Her eyes. 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


177 


large, pathetic, deep sunken, with great black 
rings about them. God ! How she must have 
suffered ! but they are looking right at him, 
with an unseeing far-away expression. He 
called in agony, “ Aleita — my beloved — it is I 
— your husband. I have come to take care of 
you, my own, my wife.” 

Still she never stirred nor answered, except 
to clasp her baby’s hand more tightly, and sigh; 
such a patient, deep, heart-breaking sigh. 

What did it mean ? Mazoombah entered. 
He turned eagerly to him ; but the doctor 
walked directly toward the spot where he stood, 
seeming to pass through him as if he were not 
there. What strange trick was his imagination 
playing upon him ? He walked to the mirror, 
and looking into it he saw — nothing. There 
iWas no image, no reflection. A light began to 
dawn upon his mind. A brightly burning lamp 
stood upon the table. He placed himself di- 
rectly in front of it. The light was not ob- 
structed ; he cast no shadow. 

“Yes,” he said, “as I thought — I am dead. 
Not dead — but, I am benumbed — paralyzed. I 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


178 

thought physical death was fuller, more real than 
life. This is awful — something stronger than 
myself is drawing me away. I cannot stay with 
my wife and child !” 

He was again in the darkness — alone — among 
those charred ruins of the convent, which 
seemed to fill him with shuddering horror. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


Without purpose, or hope, he waited. A 
formless mist was taking on definite shape, and 
a majestic being stood before him. It was 
Alta. 

“ O Sire, speak to me — speak to me ! ” Reg- 
inald cried. “ Break this intolerable silence. I 
seem alone in creation. It is not life, nor yet 
is it death.” 

“You are right, my son," said Alta. “It is 
neither life nor death. All unprepared, you are 
like fruit plucked unripe.” 

“ My punishment is greater than I can bear,” 
groaned the wretched man. 

“ It is not punishment in the sense you in- 
tend,” said Alta, kindly. “ In a swift impukse of 
self-preservation you resorted to desperate 
means, and you must bear the consequence of 
violated law.” 


l8o THE MASKED PROPHET. 

4 

“Father,” said he, humbly, “it was not for 
myself. I thought of Aleita ; of the child 
which was coming ; of their need of me ; and as 
the walls fell I remembered that I might save 
myself. It was all swift as the lightning-flash. 
Why was it wrong ? Mazoombah did it when he 
came to us on the steamer.” 

“ Ah ! my son ; there is a vast difference be- 
tween a temporary suspension of the atoms of 
your material body, and their actual dispersion 
in space, as by a great shock, an explosion 
where the particles are rent asunder. But do 
not despair, my son — be hopeful. Rise up in 
your godgiven right, might and majesty, and 
command the reassembling of those elements 
composing your body and they in time will obey 
the command.” 

“ Miserable being that I am !” cried Reginald. 

“ Far from it,” said Alta. “ Your soul was 
guiltleiss of evil intent. The trouble is that men 
do not realize the responsibility there is in liv- 
ing or unseasonably dying. 

“ You remember in the vision you saw^ that 
your organism was merely the sum of countless 


THE MASKED PROPHET. igl 

Other organisms, as real as yourself. You saw 
that their activities were your life ; while your 
will was the directing impulse of their universe. 
You saw that a wound from a thorn was a wide- 
spread catastrophe ; as mysterious and fatal to 
them as the submergence of Atlantis to you. 
So, you may imagine what it was when you set 
these millions of dismembered atoms ' adrift 
into space ! It was your kingdom ; they were 
your subjects. Every one of them had a claim 
upon your care and protection. 

“A miserable — an unworthy king,” ans- 
wered Reginald. “ What can I do. Sire, to re- 
pair this great calamity ?” 

“ Despair not, my son. These micro-organ- 
isms are quickly obedient to the mastery of 
mind and soul. You possess both these in un- 
usual potency. They will feel its impelling 
attraction. Already the currents are beginnincr 
to move toward you in obedience to the will 
power, and will soon remedy the harm done.” 

“And may I not be near her? With her 
and my child ?” 

“ Yes, so long as there are answering .sympa- 


i 82 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


thetic vibrations you will be with them and help 
them, and they will help you. 

“Your hope is in courage, in effort unceasing. 
The stronger your soul, the sooner will you 
compel the life currents to come into harmoni- 
ous relations, and you may be assured the best 
will come to pass at the earliest moment. You 
must learn to work and wait on nature’s laws.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


Six years had elapsed since the passing away 
of Reginald Irving. His People’s Palace in 
Whitechapel had become the centre of a vast, 
ever-expanding work ; and its presiding genius 
was the widow of the founder. It would be 
difficult in that calm, beautiful woman to recog- 
nize the child-wife Reginald brought across the 
sea from Washington. How beautiful she was 
in the severe simplicity of her soft subdued dra- 
peries ! And were such mingled sadness and 
sweetness ever seen before? Was it strange, 
that she was worshiped as a sort of a divinity, 
and that peace, happiness and healing seemed to 
come with the magic of her touch ? Her boy 
with the golden curls, and inscrutable eyes, 
was he not also lovely as an angel ? Doctor 
Mazoombah had been the faithful friend and 


1 84 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


helper • of Aleita during these long years of 
working and waiting, and now stood by watching 
the struggle going on in her mind, the tempta- 
tion to go home. Laying his hands, gently on 
the heads of mother and son he said, “ Yes, the 
time has come you must go.” Long had Aleita 
resisted her mother’s entreaties to come home 
for a visit. But now on this bright May morn- 
ing, there was a new look in her face as she took 
her boy in her lap and said, ''Darling, mamma 
is going on along journey.” 

"Me, too?” inquired the boy. "Me going 
too?” 

"Yes, dear, you too. We are going to 
America to see grandma and grandpa.” 

" And my papa ? ” asked the boy. " I want to 
see him too.’’ 

Tears welled up in the mother’s eyes, so full of 
soft light. 

“You know papa is in Heaven, my darling. 
Some day we will see him. Not yet. Can you 
remember the word I taught you, my son ? ” 

“Yes, mamma — Sacrifice,” answered he, 

proudly. 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


185 

“ Yes, darling — Sacrifice. It is the most beau- 
tiful thing in the world. When Christ came on 
earth to teach mankind how to live, that was 
sacrifice. All your life, darling, remember that 
your papa sacrificed himself for others.” 

Little Reginald was laboriously climbing up 
on a chair and on tip-toe trying to reach his 
father’s picture. “ I want to look at it good,” 
said he, “so that when I see papa in Heaven I 
will know him the very moment I see him.” 

❖ ❖ -K- 

The broad avenues of Washington City were 
unchanged. The beautiful parks were only 
more beautiful, with superb fresh verdure. The 
dome of the Capitol, shining against the blue sky 
like a structure in dreamland, seemed to blossom, 
and expand into new architectural effects. Was 
there not after all, mingled with the heart-break- 
ing sadness, a thrill of gladness in this home- 
coming ? 

Aleita almost felt Reginald’s hand in hers as 
with fast beating heart she gazed upon the fa- 
miliar and beloved city of her childhood. And 
when at night she lay upon the very same bed 


1 86 the masked prophet. 

where she had dreamed all her first girlish 
dreams, there was mingled with the retrospec- 
tion a sense of his actual presence, such as she 
had never had since that tragic night in India. 
And why was one strange mysterious sounding 
word whispered in her ear over and over again ? 
She did not recollect having heard it before, 
except in a dream. Why had it such fascination 
for her now ? 

In the morning she laid aside her dark London 
dress and put on instead, a gown of soft white 
clinging stuff. Little Reginald coming into the 
room, was speechless with wonder ; then cried, 
clapping his hands : 

“ What a beautiful mamma ! What a beauti- 
ful mamma I have !” 

Aleita laughed as she caught him joyously in 
her arms. 

“ If papa could only see you now,” said the 
boy, joyously. 

Kissing him, as the tears ran down her cheeks, 
she said : “ Perhaps he does, darling. That is 

the reason I put on this pretty dress. I 
thought papa would like it as of old.” 


THE MASHED PROPHET. igy 

The boy in excitement ran quickly into the 
hall, calling ; 

“ Grandma, come quick, and see how beau- 
tiful my mamma is to-day. Won’t papa be 
surprised ! ” 

When, after breakfast, Aleita said she was 
going to walk with her boy, her mother and 
father at once divined her purpose and did not 
offer to go with her. 

Just as they supposed, her steps turned 
toward the grove. As she entered the leafy 
solitude her heart beat fast — she felt almost 
suffocated as they drew near the large oak and 
the magic spot under its great branches. 

“ Oh, what a beautiful place ! ” cried the child. 
“ Mamma — why do you cry ?” 

She had covered her face with her hands, with 
such a rush of mingled grief and triumph — when 
in wild excitement the child screamed, “ Mamma, 
is this Heaven? There’s papa! There’s 
papa !” 

Her heart seemed to have stopped beating. 
Her hands dropped lifeless at her side as she 
stood under the great oak tree. She looked up 


i88 


THE MASHED PROPHET. 


and saw— Reginald. In another instant strong 
loving arms enfolded her, a wildly beating heart 
was next to her own. It was he — in very truth 
and life — her husband. 

God forbid that words of ours should reveal 
the sacred confidences of that hour. How he 
had watched over and been near her, ever help- 
ing and being helped. 

She would not be able to bear it now ; but in 
time all would be told her. That sacred grove 
had witnessed strange scenes in their life-drama. 
But could anyone have pictured such rapture as 
this ! 

The perfect wild rose was blooming, as did 
that other years before, on the topmost branch 
of that pyramid of vines. With a rush of 
memories which could never be uttered, Regi- 
nald reached up and plucked it ; then placed it 
in the bosom of his wife’s gown, exclaiming, “In 
such fragrance was our love begun, and so 
hath it culminated in our present and eternal 

joy-” 

“ Papa,” said the little Reginald," isn’t mamma 
beautiful ? ” 


THE MASKED PROPHET. 


189 


“ As an angel,” said the father, taking the 
boy in his arms, kissing him passionately again 
and again. 

“ Papa, papa, I told mamma you’d be sur- 
prised to see her so beautiful, like an angel.” 

A glorious halo surrounded them, and out of 
it soon Alta came forward in great majesty, say- 
ing, “ Blessed be thee, O my children all.” 
And in an instant was gone again. Mazoombah 
stood apart a silent and unobserved witness of 
this joyful reunion. But now he came forward 
with open arms and congratulations. 

Little Reginald, this beautiful child of love 
and harmony, has grown to man’s estate, a high 
type of the race of men. Wise beyond his years, 
the pride and pleasure of all who know him. 
Reginald Irving was ever contented after such 
an experience as befell him at the fire in India, 
to keep his feet on mother earth and in close 
touch with humanity, feeling sure that in so 
doing he was fulfilling the highest law of his being. 
Alta and Doctor Mazoombah are frequent 
and welcome visitors to the Irving home. Each 
coming and going in his own way and accord- 


THE MASKED PROPHET 


190 

ing to his individual will and pleasure. Alta 
makes his advent like the approach of dawn in 
the east and grandly grows into the full orbed 
day. Mazoombah comes as the rushing of 
mighty waters in great force and warmth. 









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^ ^ ^ - •••■,. *-/. 'X, 


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