Hilarion raised one of Alwyn's cold, pulseless hands--it was stiff, and white as marble.
"I suppose," he said, "there is no doubt of his returning hither?"
"None whatever," answered Heliobas decisively. "His life on earth is assured for many years yet,--inasmuch as his penance is not finished, his recompense not won. Thus far my knowledge of his fate is certain."
"Then you will bring him back to-day?" pursued Hilarion.
"Bring him back? I? I cannot!" said Heliobas, with a touch of sad humility in his tone. "And for this very reason I feared to send him hence,--and would not have done so,--not without preparation at any rate,--could I have had my way. His departure was more strange than any I have ever known--moreover, it was his own doing, not mine. I had positively refused to exert my influence upon him, because I felt he was not in my sphere, and that therefore neither I nor any of those higher intelligences with which I am in communication could control or guide his wanderings. He, however, was as positively determined that I SHOULD exert it-- and to this end he suddenly concentrated all the pent up fire of his nature in one rapid effort of Will, and advanced upon me. ... I warned him, but in vain! quick as lightning flash meets lightning flash, the two invisible Immortal Forces within us sprang into instant opposition,--with this difference, that while he was ignorant and unconscious of HIS power, I was cognizant and fully conscious of MINE. Mine was focused, as it were, upon him,-- his was untrained and. scattered,--the result was that mine won the victory: yet understand me well, Hilarion,--if I could have held myself in, I would have done so. It was he,--he who DREW my force out of me as one would draw a sword out of its scabbard--the sword may be ever so stiffly fixed in its sheath, but the strong hand will wrench it forth somehow, and use it for battle when needed."
"Then," said Hilarion wonderingly, "you admit this man possesses a power greater than your own?"
"Aye, if he knew it!" returned Heliobas, quietly. "But he does not know. Only an angel could teach him--and in angels he does not believe."
"He may believe now. ... !"
"He may. He will--he must, ... if he has gone where I would have him go."
"A poet, is he not!" queried Hilarion softly, bending down to look more attentively at the beautiful Antinous-like face colorless and cold as sculptured alabaster.
"An uncrowned monarch of a world of song!" responded Heliobas, with a tender inflection in his rich voice. "A genius such as the earth sees but once in a century! But he has been smitten with the disease of unbelief and deprived of hope,--and where there is no hope there is no lasting accomplishment." He paused, and with a touch as gentle as a woman's, rearranged the cushions under Alwyn's heavy head, and laid his hand in grave benediction on the broad white brow shaded by its clustering waves of dark hair. "May the Infinite Love bring him out of danger into peace and safety!" he said solemnly,--then turning away, he took his companion by the arm, and they both left the room, closing the door quietly behind them. The chapel bell went on tolling slowly, slowly, sending muffled echoes through the fog for some minutes--then it ceased, and profound stillness reigned.