She
were outstretched like those of some woman about to embrace one
she dearly loved, while her whole attitude gave an impression of
the tenderest beseeching. Her perfect and most gracious form was
naked, save—and here came the extraordinary thing—the face, which
was thinly veiled, so that we could only trace the marking of her
features. A gauzy veil was thrown round and about the head, and
of its two ends one fell down across her left breast, which was
outlined beneath it, and one, now broken, streamed away upon the
air behind her.
“Who is she?” I asked, as soon as I could take my eyes off the
statue.
“Canst thou not guess, oh Holly?” answered Ayesha. “Where then is
thy imagination? It is Truth standing on the World, and calling
to its children to unveil her face. See what is writ upon the
pedestal. Without doubt it is taken from the book of Scriptures
of these men of Kôr,” and she led the way to the foot of the
statue, where an inscription of the usual Chinese-looking
hieroglyphics was so deeply graven as to be still quite legible,
at least to Ayesha. According to her translation it ran thus:—
“Is there no man that will draw my veil and look upon my face,
for it is very fair? Unto him who draws my veil shall I be, and
peace will I give him, and sweet children of knowledge and good
works.”
And a voice cried, “Though all those who seek after thee desire
thee, behold! Virgin art thou, and Virgin shalt thou go till Time
be done. No man is there born of woman who may draw thy veil and
live, nor shall be. By Death only can thy veil be drawn, oh
Truth!”
And Truth stretched out her arms and wept, because those who
sought her might not find her, nor look upon her face to face.
“Thou seest,” said Ayesha, when she had finished translating,
“Truth was the Goddess of the people of old Kôr, and to her they
built their shrines, and her they sought; knowing that they
should never find, still sought they.”
“And so,” I added sadly, “do men seek to this very hour, but they
find out; and, as this Scripture saith, nor shall they; for in
Death only is Truth found.”
Then with one more look at this veiled and spiritualised
loveliness—which was so perfect and so pure that one might almost
fancy that the light of a living spirit shone through the marble
prison to lead man on to high and ethereal thoughts—this poet’s
dream of beauty frozen into stone, which I shall never forget
while I live, we turned and went back through the vast moonlit
courts to the spot whence we had started. I never saw the statue
again, which I the more regret, because on the great ball of
stone representing the World whereon the figure stood, lines were
drawn, that probably, had there been light enough, we should have
discovered to be a map of the Universe as it was known to the
people of Kôr. It is at any rate suggestive of some scientific
knowledge that these long-dead worshippers of Truth had
recognised the fact that the globe is round.
XXIV.
WALKING THE PLANK
Next day the mutes woke us before the dawn; and by the time that
we had got the sleep out of our eyes, and gone through a
perfunctory wash at a spring which still welled up into the
remains of a marble basin in the centre of the North quadrangle
of the vast outer court, we found _She_ standing by the litter
ready to start, while old Billali and the two bearer mutes were
busy collecting the baggage. As usual, Ayesha was veiled like the
marble Truth (by the way, I wonder if she originally got the idea
of covering up her beauty from that statue?). I noticed, however,
that she seemed very depressed, and had none of that proud and
buoyant bearing which would have betrayed her among a thousand
women of the same stature, even if they had been veiled like
herself. She looked up as we came—for her head was bowed—and
greeted us. Leo asked her how she had slept.
“Ill, my Kallikrates,” she answered, “ill. This night have
strange and hideous dreams come creeping through my brain, and I
know not what they may portend. Almost do I feel as though some
evil overshadowed me; and yet how can evil touch me? I wonder,”
she went on with a sudden outbreak of womanly tenderness, “I
wonder if, should aught happen to me, so that I slept awhile and
left thee waking, thou wouldst think gently of me? I wonder, my
Kallikrates, if thou wouldst tarry till I came again, as for so
many centuries I have tarried for thy coming?”
Then, without waiting for an answer, she went on: “Come, let us
be setting forth, for we have far to go, and before another day
is born in yonder blue should we stand in the place of Life.”
In five minutes we were once more on our way through the vast
ruined city, which loomed at us on either side in the grey
dawning in a way that was at once grand and oppressive. Just as
the first ray of the rising sun shot like a golden arrow athwart
this storied desolation we gained the further gateway of the
outer wall, and having given one more glance at the hoar and
pillared majesty through which we had journeyed, and (with the
exception of Job, for whom ruins had no charms) breathed a sigh
of regret that we had not had more time to explore it, passed
through the great moat, and on to the plain beyond.
As the sun rose so did Ayesha’s spirits, till by breakfast-time
they had regained their normal level, and she laughingly set down
her previous depression to the associations of the spot where she
had slept.
“These barbarians swear that Kôr is haunted,” she said, “and of a
truth I do believe their saying, for never did I know so ill a
night save one. I remember it now. It was on that very spot when
thou didst lie dead at my feet, Kallikrates. Never will I visit
it again; it is a place of evil omen.”
After a very brief halt for breakfast we pressed on with such
good will that by two o’clock in the afternoon we were at the
foot of the vast wall of rock that formed the lip of the volcano,
and which at this point towered up precipitously above us for
fifteen hundred or two thousand feet. Here we halted, certainly
not to my astonishment, for I did not see how it was possible
that we should go any farther.
“Now,” said Ayesha, as she descended from her litter, “doth our
labour but commence, for here do we part with these men, and
henceforward must we bear ourselves;” and then, addressing
Billali, “do thou and these slaves remain here, and abide our
coming. By to-morrow at the midday shall we be with thee—if not,
wait.”
Billali bowed humbly, and said that her august bidding should be
obeyed if they stopped there till they grew old.
“And this man, oh Holly,” said _She_, pointing to Job; “best is
it that he should tarry also, for if his heart be not high and
his courage great, perchance some evil might overtake him. Also,
the secrets of the place whither we go are not fit for common
eyes.”
I translated this to Job, who instantly and earnestly entreated
me, almost with tears in his eyes, not to leave him behind. He
said he was sure that he could see nothing worse than he had
already seen, and that he was terrified to death at the idea of
being left alone with those “dumb folk,” who, he thought, would
probably take the opportunity to hot-pot him.
I translated what he said to Ayesha, who shrugged her shoulders,
and answered, “Well, let him come, it is naught to me; on his own
head be it, and he will serve to bear the lamp and this,” and she
pointed to a narrow plank, some sixteen feet in length, which had
been bound above the long bearing-pole of her hammock, as I had
thought to make curtains spread out better, but, as it now
appeared, for some unknown purpose connected with our
extraordinary undertaking.
Accordingly, the plank, which, though tough, was very light, was
given to Job to carry, and also one of the lamps. I slung the
other on to my back, together with a spare jar of oil, while Leo
loaded himself with the provisions and some water in a kid’s
skin. When this was done _She_ bade Billali and the six bearer
mutes to retreat behind a grove of flowering magnolias about a
hundred yards away, and remain there under pain of death till we
had vanished. They bowed humbly, and went, and, as he departed,
old Billali gave me a friendly shake of the hand, and whispered
that he had rather that it was I than he who was going on this
wonderful expedition with “_She-who-must-be-obeyed_,” and upon my
word I felt inclined to agree with him. In another minute they
were gone, and then, having briefly asked us if we were ready,
Ayesha turned, and gazed up the towering cliff.
“Goodness me, Leo,” I said, “surely we are not going to climb
that precipice!”
Leo shrugged his shoulders, being in a condition of
half-fascinated, half-expectant mystification, and as he did so,
Ayesha with a sudden move began to climb the cliff, and of course
we had to follow her. It was perfectly marvellous to see the ease
and grace with which she sprang from rock to rock, and swung
herself along the ledges. The ascent was not, however, so
difficult as it seemed, although there were one or two nasty
places where it did not do to look behind you, the fact being
that the rock still sloped here, and was not absolutely
precipitous as it was higher up. In this way we, with no great
labour, mounted to the height of some fifty feet above our last
standing-place, the only really troublesome thing to manage being
Job’s board, and in doing so drew some fifty or sixty paces to
the left of our starting-point, for we went up like a crab,
sideways. Presently we reached a ledge, narrow enough at first,
but which widened as we followed it, and moreover sloped inwards
like the petal of a flower, so that as we followed it we
gradually got into a kind of rut or fold of rock, that grew
deeper and deeper, till at last it resembled a Devonshire lane in
stone, and hid us perfectly from the gaze of anybody on the slope
below, if there had been anybody to gaze. This lane (which
appeared to be a natural formation) continued for some fifty or
sixty paces, and then suddenly ended in a cave, also natural,
running at right angles to it. I am sure it was a natural cave,
and not hollowed by the hand of man, because of its irregular and
contorted shape and course, which gave it the appearance of
having been blown bodily in the mountain by some frightful
eruption of gas following the line of the least resistance. All
the caves hollowed by the ancients of Kôr, on the contrary, were
cut out with the most perfect regularity and symmetry. At the
mouth of this cave Ayesha halted, and bade us light the two
lamps, which I did, giving one to her and keeping the other
myself. Then, taking the lead, she advanced down the cavern,
picking her way with great care, as indeed it was necessary to