"The devils hope and try to conquer her," replied the old man.
The words made Wilfrid's pulses throb.
"For the last five hours she has stood erect, her eyes raised to heaven and her arms extended; she suffers, she cries to God.I cannot cross the barrier; Hell has posted the Vertumni as sentinels.They have set up an iron wall between her and her old David.She wants me, but what can I do? Oh, help me! help me! Come and pray!"The old man's despair was terrible to see.
"The Light of God is defending her," he went on, with infectious faith, "but oh! she might yield to violence.""Silence, David! you are raving.This is a matter to be verified.We will go with you," said the pastor, "and you shall see that there are no Vertumni, nor Satans, nor Sirens, in that house.""Your father is blind," whispered David to Minna.
Wilfrid, on whom the reading of Swedenborg's first treatise, which he had rapidly gone through, had produced a powerful effect, was already in the corridor putting on his skees; Minna was ready in a few moments, and both left the old men far behind as they darted forward to the Swedish castle.
"Do you hear that cracking sound?" said Wilfrid.
"The ice of the fiord stirs," answered Minna; "the spring is coming."Wilfrid was silent.When the two reached the courtyard they were conscious that they had neither the faculty nor the strength to enter the house.
"What think you of her?" asked Wilfrid.
"See that radiance!" cried Minna, going towards the window of the salon."He is there! How beautiful! O my Seraphitus, take me!"The exclamation was uttered inwardly.She saw Seraphitus standing erect, lightly swathed in an opal-tinted mist that disappeared at a little distance from the body, which seemed almost phosphorescent.
"How beautiful she is!" cried Wilfrid, mentally.
Just then Monsieur Becker arrived, followed by David; he saw his daughter and guest standing before the window; going up to them, he looked into the salon and said quietly, "Well, my good David, she is only saying her prayers.""Ah, but try to enter, Monsieur."
"Why disturb those who pray?" answered the pastor.
At this instant the moon, rising above the Falberg, cast its rays upon the window.All three turned round, attracted by this natural effect which made them quiver; when they turned back to again look at Seraphita she had disappeared.
"How strange!" exclaimed Wilfrid.
"I hear delightful sounds," said Minna.
"Well," said the pastor, "it is all plain enough; she is going to bed."David had entered the house.The others took their way back in silence; none of them interpreted the vision in the same manner,--Monsieur Becker doubted, Minna adored, Wilfrid longed.
Wilfrid was a man about thirty-six years of age.His figure, though broadly developed, was not wanting in symmetry.Like most men who distinguish themselves above their fellows, he was of medium height;his chest and shoulders were broad, and his neck short,--a characteristic of those whose hearts are near their heads; his hair was black, thick, and fine; his eyes, of a yellow brown, had, as it were, a solar brilliancy, which proclaimed with what avidity his nature aspired to Light.Though these strong and virile features were defective through the absence of an inward peace,--granted only to a life without storms or conflicts,--they plainly showed the inexhaustible resources of impetuous senses and the appetites of instinct; just as every motion revealed the perfection of the man's physical apparatus, the flexibility of his senses, and their fidelity when brought into play.This man might contend with savages, and hear, as they do, the tread of enemies in distant forests; he could follow a scent in the air, a trail on the ground, or see on the horizon the signal of a friend.His sleep was light, like that of all creatures who will not allow themselves to be surprised.His body came quickly into harmony with the climate of any country where his tempestuous life conducted him.Art and science would have admired his organization in the light of a human model.Everything about him was symmetrical and well-balanced,--action and heart, intelligence and will.At first sight he might be classed among purely instinctive beings, who give themselves blindly up to the material wants of life;but in the very morning of his days he had flung himself into a higher social world, with which his feelings harmonized; study had widened his mind, reflection had sharpened his power of thought, and the sciences had enlarged his understanding.He had studied human laws,--the working of self-interests brought into conflict by the passions, and he seemed to have early familiarized himself with the abstractions on which societies rest.He had pored over books,--those deeds of dead humanity; he had spent whole nights of pleasure in every European capital; he had slept on fields of battle the night before the combat and the night that followed victory.His stormy youth may have flung him on the deck of some corsair and sent him among the contrasting regions of the globe; thus it was that he knew the actions of a living humanity.He knew the present and the past,--a double history; that of to-day, that of other days.Many men have been, like Wilfrid, equally powerful by the Hand, by the Heart, by the Head; like him, the majority have abused their triple power.But though this man still held by certain outward liens to the slimy side of humanity, he belonged also and positively to the sphere where force is intelligent.
In spite of the many veils which enveloped his soul, there were certain ineffable symptoms of this fact which were visible to pure spirits, to the eyes of the child whose innocence has known no breath of evil passions, to the eyes of the old man who has lived to regain his purity.
