One year passed by; fifty-two lessons had been taken. Every week, under the cloak of a masquerade ball, we met together for mutual study and improvement. Camille and I were still great friends—brother and sister; likewise a strong attachment had grown up between me and my peasant sister who, while often dressed in different costumes, always kept her face concealed. In vain were my solicitations; she checked them in no uncertain tone. "Camille, who is she?" I asked one day. "Know the rule," she answered, "those who keep masked must be unknown." The veiled woman, who never dressed in anything but black, was a greater mystery than ever; more so than my peasant sister, for while the latter concealed her identity, she was my best companion. The woman in black, however, seldom gave me an opportunity for conversation, but when she did, strange though it may seem, I was the happiest I thought much upon this, and commenced to dwell and meditate upon this Knower. The results were wonderful; I commenced to acquire knowledge in a manner I knew not how, and often spoke with a wisdom that surprised me. Now, "I never got it, I know it," I answered, seriously. "Well, don't communicate that here," he said, and without another word he took a book from his pocket, and drawing forth a card wrote some mystical characters upon it. Then handing it to me he said: "On next meeting night present that card to the right hand inner guard; now proceed with your studies and say nothing." It was the fifty-fourth night, and I entered and handed my card to the veiled woman at the right. Heretofore I had always turned to the left, but as she spoke a concealed door opened near her, and I passed through into a small room finished in pure white. I took a seat upon a white divan, and had waited some time when the patriarch and woman entered. "Brother," said the woman, taking a seat in front of me, while the patriarch seated himself at a table near by, "your presence before us demands that you give us your unqualified confidence. The Esoteric Examiner tells us you have information which belongs only to members of the sixth sub. Where did you get it?" "By meditation and inward concentration upon the Spirit," I answered, almost before I thought, and was then surprised at my answer. They looked at one another and the patriarch drew nearer. "Don't you know that such practice is dangerous to those who are unprepared?" questioned the patriarch in very serious tones. "In my unselfish desire for knowledge I deem myself prepared," I answered. "My life is pure, from childhood it has been thus," I replied. "Why do you seek knowledge?" "Because it is the soul's true nature so to seek," I answered. "Will you ever use your knowledge for evil purposes or selfish ends?" "I will not; the self is dead." As I said this I was startled at the intensity of my answer. My companions looked at each other and the patriarch continued: "If this knowledge brings you power how will you use it?" "For my fellow-men and truth," I answered, as an inspiration grew upon me. "Not otherwise nor indiscreetly?" "Only for the good and with certainty of right; not otherwise." "Have you learned the power and do you possess self-control?" "I think I have," I answered, as I thought of the woman in black. "Your words imply a doubt, where is your weakness?" "I would not be too positive; there may be conditions under which I might lose control of heart;
"Have you ever loved?" "As child for parent, yes; as brother for sister, yes; as——"and I hesitated. "And not as lover?" asked the woman. "I am in doubt, the word to me has uncertain meaning, but, I must confess, an unknown sister here affects me strangely." "Who is she?" "I know not; she is always dressed in black and never is unmasked." The two looked at one another, and the conversation was abruptly changed by the patriarch who asked: "How did you learn that man is seven minus two?" "All the afternoon in deepest thought I had dwelt on man's mysterious constitution. So deep in thought was I, the supper hour went by and in my-chair deep sleep came over me. Suddenly I arose in space and was carried over the ocean; unburdened by a form of weight I passed in thought's swift motion to the East. I saw the Snowy Range deep in the blue of heaven high above the clouds. Then by some miracle of change of which all dreams are made, I found myself a student over a book in some unknown and isolated crypt. Here That strange inward activity which at frequent intervals throughout my life had stirred within me had once more arisen, and I spoke as one inspired. My questioners, who had been watching me with sparkling eyes, now both spoke at once: "We welcome thee, now art thou a member of the Sixth Degree; and she shall be your teacher!" I was about to speak again, when the patriarch pressed his finger to his lips in token of silence and spoke: "Two paths start from the Sixth Degree, both leading to the Seventh; and thou must wear a mask until thy path is chosen. Let no one see thy face while here assembled unless permit is given. Now to the hall; a friend awaits you." As the patriarch finished speaking a door opened, and at his motion I passed through into the hall. The second waltz was in progress, and I, this time masked and attired like a knight, was about to seek a partner, when a nun, veiled and robed in purest white, laid a fair, white hand upon my arm. The same thrilling sensation of pleasure ran through me, and my heart beat violently as in a sweet, musical voice she said: "Fair nun," with beating heart I made reply, "if all women had the power of thy sweet voice the world would soon have peace and all who fight would love. But, fair nun, thou dost wrong the knights of chivalry who ever fought for virtue and for love." "Ah, that this, indeed, were true, but my memory says—not so. Well do I remember when in past life knights, claiming honor, fought for and stole poor nuns." "Thou canst not be thus old, fair nun; what dost thou mean?" "The age of form is not the age of soul. You and I have both lived on earth many times before." What strange feeling was this stirring in my heart? What strange ecstasy of joy within my soul? I could not change this conversation for a dance; she was bordering on the greatest question of life, the deepest subject of my thoughts. With a never-before-experienced feeling of pleasure I urged her on: "If we have lived before, and thou rememberest, why not I? Perhaps I am the knight of yore who stole thee; but, if so, it was for love. And if I "Be not so bold, thou warrior armed and mailed, thou mayest unknowingly speak truth, at least in part; but if thou art interested in this subject, let us go where we can be alone." "Most gladly," I replied, as she took my arm and led the way to the right side of the hall. Angel of love, I thought, she must have changed from black to white. Her voice was the same as that of her whom I had first met on the drive to Madame Petrovna; but how different from the woman in black whom I had met in the hall. Could they be the same? If so what meant this sudden change? I had never been through any of the doors on the right-hand side of the room, and as we now passed through one, I found myself in a room finished in white and trimmed with gold. She closed the door and motioned me to a sofa; taking a seat beside me she removed her veil, saying as she did so: "Will not the knight unmask his face?" For a moment I was speechless, the marvelous beauty of her face surpassing anything I had ever seen. At the same time strange memories crowded through my mind. Where had I seen that face before? Large brown eyes filled with a light of love, "We are alone," she answered; and I was on the point of yielding, when, with a long-drawn sigh, she put on her veil and motioned me to desist. Now I saw it was a trial, and she had seen my weakness. They had told me of a friend and teacher, but nothing of a tempter. "Sir knight," she now said, "we were talking of past lives, and you asked why you did not remember such. First, the brain memory, which is very fickle and uncertain, registers only the experiences of this life; past lives have their records in the soul. Training brings the soul to consciousness, and with this consciousness all memories of the past preserved therein. Now, if Again she removed her veil, and taking a seat directly in front of me, looked me fixedly in the eyes, and continued in a low, musical voice: "It is a bright spring morning. A light breeze is carrying golden-colored clouds across the azure blue of heaven. The fruit trees are covered with wide-open flowers and blossoms and the air is fragrant with their sweetness, while the happy birds sing everywhere. The mountain-bordered horizon on one side, and the silver rivers flowing through fields of green to the placid mirror of the sea upon the other, shows that we are in Ancient Greece. Two figures are journeying along the pathway that winds across the foothills. One, a young man in all the glory of his strength and beauty, with features and half-exposed form the like of which has seldom been seen since Greece has passed away. At his side a beautiful woman,—a Grecian woman,—such as Phidias would have sought for a model. "They are going to the Games, the Olympian Games; he in full confidence of his ability and skill, she happy in the thought of his sure victory. With hands clasped and swinging arms, they go joyfully along the way. Picking wild flowers, she makes a wreath and crowns his golden curls, and, "The youth enlists to join them, and his fair companion, with tears restrained, combs his hair in the careful style of those who fight till death, and with a parting kiss says, 'For Grecian liberty I give you.' "His name was Cleomedes, and with Leonidas his body lay upon the path that wound o’er Œta's mount. That night Iole, Cleomedes companion, was searching for her lover's form among the slain. She finds him—his face now cold and white, but beautiful with a noble calm. Yes, she will take one golden ringlet from that noble head to ever keep his love in mind. A looting soldier of the Eastern horde thus finds her, and seeks her She paused for a moment, but I was in a spell; some magic power had seized me. Every word brought pictures to my mind, and all were scenes most strangely familiar. Seeing me thus silent, she continued: "More than a thousand years have passed, and vast changes have been wrought. The Roman world has come and gone and civilization's night is on. The scene is now in Gaul. A youthful monk, ever bent on deeds of charity and love, is bending o’er the mangled forms that fills the fields of Poitiers. ’Tis night, and the pale moon stealing from behind the clouds seems to give forms to specters that hover o’er this awful field of blood. All unmindful the monk works on; with bandages he binds the wounded, both Moor and Gaul alike. Morning finds him following in the wake and administering to the fallen Moors. He gives no thought of heathen, he works for man alone. Journeying on he comes to a convent among the Pyrenees. Tired and worn out from travel without food, he stops to rest. A youthful abbess meets him and gives him kindly welcome. He stays. The abbess is deeply versed She had finished, and her white hands which by some magnetic attraction had drawn to mine, were trembling as I held them. Her soul-consuming eyes were still on mine, and I was speechless. By some unknown power the present had become linked with the past. Lost memories indeed now filled my soul, and the meaning of her stories came to me like a revelation. An impulse came over me to enfold her in my arms and claim again my long-lost love, but second thought prevailed and with trembling vice I gasped: "My God! and is this our past life history? Has love, eternal love, once more brought us together?" With wonderful self-control she answered: "My soul is clouded, my spirit vision bedimmed by this flesh encasement, and through the smoke I see but indistinctly," I answered. "Well, my dear brother," she said, pressing my hand, "in the next degree all becomes clear and the past yields all its knowledge to you." "And do you belong to this degree?" I asked, now recovered from my spell. "By right I do; by choice I am here," she replied. Then almost before I thought, I said: "Then let us join our forces and push on together." Looking me in the eyes she clasped my hands, and in eager and serious tones replied: "Do you mean it? Have you the strength?" "I do, my love, my soul; with you I have all strength." My love would out; and on the impulse of the moment I had spoken. Still holding my hand and with a wonderful tenderness in her voice, she asked: "Do you know the first condition?" "No, but if you go with me it shall be fulfilled." She now dropped my hands, and drawing back, in a calm, serious voice said: "Well, we shall see; but you must first pass
"Be a knight now," she said, as we again entered the hall. The study hours had passed some time and the hall was alive with the informal group conversations which always followed. I looked around for my peasant girl, but of course only as a matter of interest. "Whom do you seek?" asked my companion, noticing my glances. "A peasant sister who has been kind to me," I replied. "The peasant has become a nun," she replied, in the voice that my peasant sister had made so familiar to my ears. In astonishment I looked at her. "What!" I exclaimed, "you and she the same?" "The same, yet not the same; I played a part and evidently with success," she answered. "And where is the black-veiled nun?" I asked, wondering if she too had played her part. "Black is a somber color and partakes of earth; she must have been in mourning. I hope she
"And have we sadness and mourners even here?" I asked. "Ah, yes, my brother; is there a place on earth where sorrow does not find its way? All bound to earth have sorrow, more or less, and there are some who are by right above the earth, who, for a lingering brother still tarry. But, brother, you have learned enough to-night; and as I am to be your teacher, we still have many nights to learn together; now let us meet our friends." My companion and my mask seemed to bring me closer to the others who were masked and who had heretofore been somewhat distant. "We all assume new names here," said my companion, as we approached a group of masked brothers and sisters. "My name is Iole, and I suggest that you take Cleomedes; will you?" "Since what you have told me, none could be more agreeable, my dear sister, if such I must still call you; and as I take the name, so will I ever cherish in my memory the glimpse you have given me of Ancient Greece." As I spoke I pressed her hand and she returned the pressure. A gypsy girl leaning upon the arm of a stalwart Turk now attracted my attention. "Let me make you acquainted with a subject of the Sultan," said Iole, as they approached. " El "And will the nun permit a knight to escort her to her convent?" I asked, as we approached the entrance. "Believing you, Sir Knight, to be unlike the knights of old, I accept your company with pleasure." We passed the entrance; no one but the outer doorkeeper was on duty. "You must take my carriage; no others are allowed within the convent grounds," said my companion. "It seems the ladies run things here, but, if you so request, I must," I answered. The carriage rolled rapidly away, I sitting close beside my companion; but some restraining power repelled any further demonstrations of affection.IOLE.
