A voice accosted me- a very quiet and very musical key of voice- in a language of which I could not understand a word, but it served to dispel my fear.I uncovered my face and looked up.The stranger (I could scarcely bring myself to call him man) surveyed me with an eye that seemed to read to the very depths of my heart.He then placed his left hand on my forehead, and with the staff in his right, gently touched my shoulder.The effect of this double contact was magical.In place of my former terror there passed into me a sense of contentment, of joy, of confidence in myself and in the being before me.I rose and spoke in my own language.He listened to me with apparent attention, but with a slight surprise in his looks; and shook his head, as if to signify that I was not understood.He then took me by the hand and led me in silence to the building.The entrance was open- indeed there was no door to it.We entered an immense hall, lighted by the same kind of lustre as in the scene without, but diffusing a fragrant odour.The floor was in large tesselated blocks of precious metals, and partly covered with a sort of matlike 14carpeting.A strain of low music, above and around, undulated as if from invisible instruments, seeming to belong naturally to the place, just as the sound of murmuring waters belongs to a rocky landscape, or the warble of birds to vernal groves.
A figure in a simpler garb than that of my guide, but of similar fashion, was standing motionless near the threshold.
My guide touched it twice with his staff, and it put itself into a rapid and gliding movement, skimming noiselessly over the floor.Gazing on it, I then saw that it was no living form, but a mechanical automaton.It might be two minutes after it vanished through a doorless opening, half screened by curtains at the other end of the hall, when through the same opening advanced a boy of about twelve years old, with features closely resembling those of my guide, so that they seemed to me evidently son and father.On seeing me the child uttered a cry, and lifted a staff like that borne by my guide, as if in menace.At a word from the elder he dropped it.The two then conversed for some moments, examining me while they spoke.The child touched my garments, and stroked my face with evident curiosity, uttering a sound like a laugh, but with an hilarity more subdued that the mirth of our laughter.Presently the roof of the hall opened, and a platform descended, seemingly constructed on the same principle as the 'lifts' used in hotels and warehouses for mounting from one story to another.
The stranger placed himself and the child on the platform, and motioned to me to do the same, which I did.We ascended quickly and safely, and alighted in the midst of a corridor with doorways on either side.
Through one of these doorways I was conducted into a chamber fitted up with an oriental splendour; the walls were tesselated with spars, and metals, and uncut jewels; cushions and divans abounded; apertures as for windows but unglazed, were made in the chamber opening to the floor; and as I passed along I15observed that these openings led into spacious balconies, and commanded views of the illumined landscape without.In cages suspended from the ceiling there were birds of strange form and bright plumage, which at our entrance set up a chorus of song, modulated into tune as is that of our piping bullfinches.Adelicious fragrance, from censers of gold elaborately sculptured, filled the air.Several automata, like the one I had seen, stood dumb and motionless by the walls.The stranger placed me beside him on a divan and again spoke to me, and again I spoke, but without the least advance towards understanding each other.
But now I began to feel the effects of the blow I had received from the splinters of the falling rock more acutely that I had done at first.
There came over me a sense of sickly faintness, accompanied with acute, lancinating pains in the head and neck.I sank back on the seat and strove in vain to stifle a groan.On this the child, who had hitherto seemed to eye me with distrust or dislike, knelt by my side to support me; taking one of my hands in both his own, he approached his lips to my forehead, breathing on it softly.In a few moments my pain ceased; a drowsy, heavy calm crept over me; I fell asleep.
How long I remained in this state I know not, but when I woke Ifelt perfectly restored.My eyes opened upon a group of silent forms, seated around me in the gravity and quietude of Orientals- all more or less like the first stranger; the same mantling wings, the same fashion of garment, the same sphinx-like faces, with the deep dark eyes and red man's colour; above all, the same type of race- race akin to man's, but infinitely stronger of form and grandeur of aspect- and inspiring the same unutterable feeling of dread.Yet each countenance was mild and tranquil, and even kindly in expression.And, strangely enough, it seemed to me that in this very calm and benignity consisted the secret of the dread which the countenances inspired.They seemed as void of the lines and shadows which care and sorrow, and passion and sin, 16leave upon the faces of men, as are the faces of sculptured gods, or as, in the eyes of Christian mourners, seem the peaceful brows of the dead.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder; it was the child's.In his eyes there was a sort of lofty pity and tenderness, such as that with which we may gaze on some suffering bird or butterfly.I shrank from that touch- I shrank from that eye.
