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Updated: May 23, 2025
Raffaello tried you with one of them, did he not?" As he put this question, I was aware of a keenly inquiring look sent from the eyes of my interrogator into mine. "Yes," I answered frankly, "and it made me dream, and I dreamt of YOU." Heliobas laughed lightly. "So! that is well. Now I am going in the first place to give you what I am sure will be satisfactory information.
"Thank the friend who stands beside you," returned Heliobas, in the same low tone, with a slight gesture towards me. "She reminded me of a duty in time. As for pardon, I know of no cause of offence on your part save what was perfectly excusable. Say no more; wisdom comes with years, and you are yet young." A long silence followed.
"But how and when did you come?" asked Alwyn presently, recovering from his first glad shock of surprise "You see how genuine is my astonishment, why, I thought you were a perpetually vowed recluse, that you never went into the world at all, ..." "Neither I do" rejoined Heliobas "save when strong necessity demands.
While recently staying in Paris I chanced to hear of you ..." The monk bowed ever so slightly there was a dawning gleam of satire in his brilliant eyes. "You won special distinction and renown there, I believe, before you adopted this monastic life?" pursued Alwyn, glancing at him curiously. "Did I?" and Heliobas looked cheerfully interested. "Really I was not aware of it, I assure you!
Heliobas passed the greater part of the day in his study a small, plainly furnished room, the facsimile of the one I had beheld him in when I had dreamed those three dreams at Cannes. Whether he received many or few patients there I could not tell; but that some applied to him for advice I knew, as I often met strangers crossing the hall on their way in and out.
"Well-as a spiritualist then; though I cannot admit the existence of any such thing as spiritualism." "Neither can I," returned Heliobas, with perfect good-humor, "according to the generally accepted meaning of the term. Pray go on, Mr. Alwyn!" Alwyn looked at him, a little puzzled and uncertain how to proceed.
"It is not in the least Italian" said Heliobas, alluding to the Symphony, when it was concluded, and the buzz of conversation surged through the hall like the noise that might be made by thousands of swarming bees, "There is not a breath of Italian air or a glimpse of Italian light about it.
Heliobas smiled gravely. "You are right!" he said. "Doubt is the destroyer of beauty the poison in the sweet cup of existence the curse which mankind have brought on themselves. Avoid it as you would the plague.
The door opened and closed as usual, and the first person I saw in the hall was Heliobas himself, seated in one of the easy-chairs, reading a volume of Plato. He rose and greeted me cordially. Before I could speak a word, he said: "You need not tell me that you slept well. I see it in your eyes and face. You feel better?"
I was greeted by a little burst of applause, and looking up, saw that all the gentlemen had come in from the dining-room, and were standing near me. The stately figure of Heliobas was the most prominent in the group; he stood erect, one hand resting lightly on the framework of the piano, and his eyes met mine fixedly.
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