IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) k A z lA w^ 1.0 I.I l^|2£ 12.5 |50 "^ llHI S*^ IS 110 12.0 ■u u I ill Ji IL25 i 1.4 Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 872-4503 : " O ! Mother Earth ! Give me, I pray thee, some o! thy breath, and I will give thee mine. Let me loose. O ! Mother, that I may carry thy words to the Stars. ^ and I will return faithfully to Thee." — Prayer of Sinm^j Magus, ^ " And the Earth, strengthening her status, none t(||| her detriment, sent her genius to breathe of hell breath on Simon, while he breathed on her, and th| Stars rejoiced to be visited by the Mighty One."- From the Syriac, translated by Malchus, l^REKACFC. [It was in 1885, and I had been assij^i^ned to report supposed coming war between Russia and irkey. All indications bcin^i^ favorable for peace, ^ever, at this time I was simpl)- enj>^a,:;^cd in look- up matters of peculiar interest, sendinj^^ in a letter and then as chance favored me, for I had left ropean Turkey and was traversing her dominions Lsia. >ur caravan had departed from Bagdad, with its row, dirty streets, its hundred mosques, and its lerous bazaars, some time before, and we were "ing Mecca, after a tiresome and rather uninter- ig journey mainly through Arabian deserts. day had been very sultry, and men and camels quietly resting preparatory for a fresh start in early morning hours, when Hulaku, the queer ronite from Damascus, entered mv tent and led me roll of manuscript, written in pure Italian, ing that it was the last instalment of that strange which he had daily been presenting to me. id never seen the man until he joined the cara- with a party some ten days before; but at his glance toward me he seemed taken with my r VI appearance, and upon learning that I was a news- paper correspondent, from some of his acquaintances, he had the same night brought a roll, sucli as he now handed me. He stated that he received what was written therein from a wonderful ebony figure, which the Mahometans of Damascus had purchased from him a short time before, and that he was now travel- ing with it, in company with some of the purchasers, to place it in the famous Kaaba, or House of the Prophet, at Mecca, over the Black Stone which all true sons of Islam believe the Angel Gabriel brought there to form the foundation of the edifice. Each night I thanked him, as the roll was presented, promis- ing that the story should be translated and published in English, as he faithfully declared that the figure commanded him to give it to me with this injunc- tion. I laughed at his queer ideas, but took the rolls, and agreed to publish them imder the author- ship of Spirito Gentil, as that was the name signed. My promise has been fulfilled, and the story is before you. Very respectfully, THE EDITOR. New York, Oct. i, 1889. CHAPTER I. ••FOR TWENTY YEARS I HAVE GUARDED HER EN- TRANCED BODY." It was in the year 178 — , in the reign of Louis !VI. and Marie Antoinette. The shadows of night »ad fallen over gay Paris, and one by one the work- len of the day and the roysterers of the evening parted company with their comrades, and bade )od-night to the Rue St. Honore, leaving only the lint lij^ht of an occasional street lamp and the hur- led tread of some belated wanderer to remind the rorld that it was not death which reigned through- it the neighborhood, but that his twin brother imber, had set his seal upon most of the inhabi- its. I And yet all were not asleep, for behind two of the irtained windows of a handsome residence gleamed dull, reddish light, and ever and anon a figure mid be faintly discerned moving about the apart- lent. Presently one of the seeming wanderers stops )posite the house, looks with a keen scrutiny up id down the street, and then swiftly crosses the ^ad, and stops at the door, not with the bold free- )m of the fearless guest who knows he is welcome, It with the stealthy step of one who has his reasons \t thus avoiding the servants at this hour. He lietly turns the bolt. Tlic door as silently opens. KARin-UOkX. after a moment's delay, and without a word, the visitor mounts the stairs, and stands upon the thresh- old of the lighted chamber. Within it a middle-aged man, evidently busy with his thoughts, sits gazing dreamily at a miniature lying upon a table before him. " May your thoughts be merrier than mine to- night, Mmotti," and as the strong tones of the visitor reached the other, he started slightly, and turned with a smile that had more of sadness than of pleas- ure in it. ** Welcome, Adrian. So you keep your word, and are here to learn the truth to-night. I had expected you, and yet hoped you would not come." " 1 know it, and yet I must sometime learn what you alone will tell me. I have waited so long, so patiently for this hour, and now it is at hand. Kee) me not in suspense, my more than father, but tell nic all. Once more, as I have asked a thousand times, what and who did my birth design me to be, and how comes it that I am what I am ? " And with these words the young man, for he was^^ young, threw himself upon a sofa, and looked cxf pectantly into Minotti's face. The elder man sighed heavily, and the shadows| deepened upon his sombre face as he looked into that^ of his visitor. After a short, but searching scrutiny he took up the miniature, and gazing at it a moment, handed it to the young man. It bore the hkeness ol a beautiful woman. The face was oval, the nosf^ Grecian, the lips delicately curved in a sad, ye sweet expression, the chin small and rounded, th hair golden, the eyes large and grey, and out of the looked a soul and a nature so true and so pure, & liAIMll-MOKN. rorcl, the ic thresh- nisy witli miniature mine to- the visitor ^ nd turned 1 of pleas- word, and d expected learn what so long, S(i and. Keci but tell nu sand timc;- to be, and for he wasj looked ex- he shadowsj Led into thatr ng scrutiny] Lt a momentj le likeness ol jal, the nosej . a sad, ye| ounded, thq out of ther so pure, sq m piritual, so rcfmed, so far removed from the grosser icments of lunth, that one was ahnost led to ask, is jhis really the face of some living woman, or is it the eal of a master artist, a portrait of some lovely ision pictured by genius and penciled by art? The young man gazed long and earnestly at the rtrait, and then looking at Minotti said slowly: It is the face of an angel, not of a woman. Who he, and what had she to do with my life?" ■■^^ For her sake I became a forsworn priest, and ough the inrtucnces with which she was sur- nded I have well nigh lost all the beliefs which order hold most sacred, all the faith with which church so firmly clasps my brothers. Perdition claim me for its own, but the seed sown cannot prooted. The new and strange beliefs engen- d cannot be overthrown. For years have I, the so-called Religious Priest t. Medard, for when I gained that name I was a priest, carried in my heart and brain a struggle h at last has overpowered all my early teach- I, and leads me into an open sea of inquiry and t, where nature reigns, and the combat between eliefs and unknown possibilities is sharply de- 'his is the so-called age of reason, and yet mys- im finds more devotees than the church. New istrange beliefs are permeating the hearts of the )le, more than is the love of Christianity ; and this face, with its image ever graven in my memory, le one bright star which I have followed, and kgh such pursuit, have neither found content, or Iwledge sufficient to carry me where she dwells." 'You speak in riddles to-night, and I fail to grasp t r lo Earth- HO UN. your meaning. You are still a faithful priest, and your parish has no fault to find. What more can you ask? "and the young man half rose from the sofa as he spoke, and gazed upon his companion. •* What more can I ask?'* repeated Minotti, while a new and strange expression to Adrian swept over his usually sombre face. '* 1 can and do ask for a inowledge that will free me from Earthly thraldom, and lead me to where this face, living not dead, awaits me. To that part of this wide Universe where Earthly ones may go by the aid of science without avtraiting for that death which the church holds can alone free the toaring spirit and the tram- meled will of man from this sphere. It is the aim o.' all my research to follow where this pure face has fled, and return with her." "And is she dead?" questioned Adrian, sorrow- fully. " Dead, no. She lives. The ravages of death have never marred the beauty of that face. She was the victim of a mystic conspiracy, so strange that man would not believe it. No court can punish, for it is far beyond the reach of mortal laws. Dead to all the world, she lives — living, her soul and spirit are ranging through space, while her body, lifelike and free from death, remains in my charge awaiting her return to claim it." And Minotti's eyes flashed as he gazed into Adrian's, and appeared to challenge his rising won- der with unearthly fire. The young man gazed at him in rising anxiety. In all his remembrance of Minotti, he had seen but the kindly priest, sad and downcast at times, but always self contained, grave, gentle. M Si EARTH-BORN. II But this evening all was changed, and lashed by ^his memories of the past, the shadows of life cast their fitful influence over him, and transformed his character, bringing forth a passionate, unholy phase, ind Adrian was astonished at the change it TOUght. He thought his erstwhile sombre companion had iddenly become insane, so brilliant was the pierc- ig gaze of the deep set grey eyes, and so strange IS words. ]" Yes," muttered the priest, " they drove her spirit jrth, but for twenty long years I have guarded her jfitranced body from harm, and now the time has lally arrived when I can unfold the secret to r You wish to know who you are, and the history your people, which I have so zealously guarded, len know that you are the only son and heir of a |:e noble family, rich and learned, now fallen and Ihonored. By some trick of mystic sorcery, by continual Jrking upon his mind through charlatanism, mixed th some truths, your father became an easy prey Imachinations too intricate for me to unravel fully th my limited knowledge. At the time I knew jthing, and simply thought him a partially insane rstic, searching for that arcane knowledge which church so strenuously forbids. ?• But for her sake, your mother's, ^he whose face see before you in that miniature, I took a step le fatal nij^ht which has proven the entering wedge it split the rock of safety upon which I previously food, and let in the conflict which has since wrecked ly usefulness, and made me at times feel and know 12 EARTH-BORN. that I was doomed should the Cardinal but disv^over to what extent my research has carried me." The priest stopped, sighed heavily, and bowing his head upon his hands, continued. "Your father was a strange man, Adrian, and few — not even your mother — understood him. He was given over body and soul to practices not approved by the church, although followed by many of the members of numerous secret societies in that day, and since, for France and Europe are filled with them, even to-day. " In youth he had been a great student, and when I met him he was long since sated with the ordinary things of this life, and was deeply engaged in endeav- ors to unravel the mysteries of nature which sur- round us. " He was feared by his neighbors, and sought the companionship of those like himself, men of science, mystics, followers of Paracelsus and Christian Rosen- kreutz, and often of charlatans who impose upon the world till discovered in their falsity. " Among the curious beliefs which he indulged in was that mind was superior to matter to such a de- gree that the latter was subservient in all things, and that the spirit and the soul could throw off this mortal ^ body and soar through space at will, returning when i desired, even after years of absence, provided always | that the life principle in the body left behind was I sufficient to keep it intact, and not allow it to deca} in the interval. " He held that man was composed of four distin^ elements, as follows : " 1st. Spirit, or mifid, the intellectual, reasoni; principle, which never dies. EARTH-BORN. 13 2d. The soul, which envelops the spirit, and is of the nebulae from which Earth was originally led, and therefore Earthly, and surrounding all thly things, conforming to the shape of that sub- ice which it attached itself to, and eventually dis- dng after death. \^d. The life principle, existent alike in every \g thing, man, tree, or plant, and, Uth. The body or matter. [He claimed that the life principle and the body Id be held in abeyance by the will of the spirit, kthat the stilled heart could be revived and the ling dead revivified, provided that accident or had not injured the vital parts to a fatal degree, ithat certain laws of nature were complied with." |rVho was my father, and who this lady ? Tell leir names," interrupted Adrian anxiously, inotti hesitated a moment, and then said : " Have Slice, and you will very soon know all. Before [ioning their names, let me tell you something ;ir history. Ls I was saying, your father held that the spirit desert the body at will. [e believed that the human body, like that of the ^sed serpent, the lowly frog, the sluggish croco- and certain animals which spend half their lives torpid state, requiring no food when in this con- m, could be reduced to the same degree of tor- [and lie dormant for months, aye, years if neces- under applications of the same law which ;rns the above animals and reptiles. ■In proof of this he cited numerous cases of differ- people who had been thrown into cataleptic ices, lasting for weeks, and he held that in such H EARTII-bOKX. cases the accidental workings of this law of na:urc had accomplished the end he believed in and desired to fully master, viz : ♦* That the spirit had left the body, and the life principle, which he believed was electric, had be- come dormant, yet not extinct, and that under just such conditions, the body could lie for years, if de- sired, while the spirit soared away into this and other worlds, bereft of everything Earthly which clogs and impedes its flight." " This is a grand belief." *' Yes, in some ways, but he held other beliefs which ^^ were equally strange, and not calculated to re-assure mortals. " He was a disbeliever in God, not originally, but ^j was led into it by other beliefs. ^ " He was likewise a follower of Simon Magus, : delver into what are known as the black arts, and cjj^ deep student of the rules which governed the Ros crucians, or the followers of the Rosy Cross. ^^ " Through his enthusiasm he was frequently in |i£ posed upon by charlatans, and it was his faith in ^ band of them, linked together for purposes of plui[|, der, though professing the highest beliefs as thei; standard, holding a creed so high and noble that i- well might attract a great mind tired and weary c this world, that he and your beautiful mother lo their identity and their fortunes, and to this sam cause you have lost your name, inherited statioir and wealth of your ancestors." " How is this? You speak in riddles." " Your father and your mother were the Coim Jules and the Countess Lena Balzac, and you an their only living representative." 3*PWej m la lei lit EARTH-BORN. 15 nd the life'i!| LC, had be- under just ^ears, if de- is and other :h clogs and )eliefs whicli ^ to re-assure ^1 •iginally, but ion Magus, : :k arts, and . ,ed the Rosii I^ross. requently m lis faith in m* )Oses of plu% liefs as theij noble that and weary mother lo to this sam rited statioit s. -re the Cou'l and you ar The— Count— Jules Balzac— my— father ! He! murdered his beautiful wife, and then made ly with himself and fortune together ! No — no ! this. My father was surely an honorable man. J this Count, he was a devil incarnate," gasped m. io. Not a devil. Simply a deluded man, who iced all, his life, wife and fortune in behalf of |ea, which you have but just said was a grand alzac le Diable, my father ! Ah, no wonder you d my questioning. And, now, I think of it, ry house was his, and people shun it even to- Ithough it has been years since — since — " ce he made his last great sacrifice. Yes, it en twenty years since I last met the Count and untess in this very room. t'H^enty years ago to-night. d the next morning all Paris rang with the of the Countess Balzac, the suicide of her d, the Count, and the failure of their once rtunes. But the world failed to understand, it will understand, his motives, or his character.** at were they, then? Tell me, his heir to in- f that I may strengthen my nature to bear this ice. lere is no disgrace, even if you come before )rld as Adrian, Count Balzac, but you need not you choose do so. You can remain plain Courcey as long as you will. But I repeat [is no disgrace. )ur father laid down his life through belief in a idea, and it was the wish of the Countess to ac- mny him in the trial. I think, perhaps, she r n i6 EARTH-RDKX. thought it would be a long farewell, and wished it as a glad release from the trials of life. If* so, she gained her desire, and swiftly." " Tell me of it, and convince me if you can, that he was guiltless." " Twenty years ago to-night I was summoned to confess the Count Jules and Countess Lena Balzac, whom I understood from the messenger, were going abroad on the morrow. " I came here, and was shown to this room. I came in, sat down, and soon the Count appeared. ** He was not a favorite with the church, which refused approval of his practices. Never before, although I had been the family confessor for several years, had I been called upon to perform that office for him. Indeed, I had heard that he never con- fessed. Believed in no God. Needed no priest. " As he entered the room he bowed in his courtly way, and said, fixing his eyes upon me as he spoke : " * Father Minotti, I am going on a journey. It may be long, it may be short. The Countess accom- panies me, b} her own request. I sent for you in her behalf, as a priest of the church, in which she thor- oughly believes. " For myself, you know I make few professions of belief, and among those few, the creed of Christian- ity is not included. If, however, as a man, you are willing to accept a confidence of a rather unusual nature, and will give me your word not to reveal what is told you until the appointed time, I shall be very glad to avail myself of this opportunity to con- fide a secret to you.' '• ' Does it concern your soul ? * I asked. " He laughed grimly, and replied. ' My soul, aye, fit M < irs /^B EAUTIM50RN. 17 ,hed it JO, she :hathe med to Balzac, e going )Oin. I ired. L, which before, • several ^at office ver con- riest. ^ courtly a spoke : Tiey. It s accom- ou in her she thor- !Ssions of ;)hristian- you are | unusual to reveal shall be \y to con- joul, aye, that it doc?,, nnd my body also, but my soul and spirit most of all.' " ' Then,' said !, ' 1 v/ill accept your confidence as a man, and keep it as a priest.* " * Well said, Father Minotti, and now listen, for ,s both man and priest you have given your word o retain what I tell you until such time as you are eleased. •' * Know then, that the journey I make to-morrow a voyage of tlie soul and spirit, out of the body, hich I leave behind, and in your keeping until I >t|tetum to claim it, not at resurrection day, but when '^3t have fulfilled the desire of my heart, and journeyed ilrhere I will.' ' i" " * ^"*' Count,' 1 exclaimed. " * Listen first,' he continued. " * Know that I believe in the transmigration of irit. In the entire freedom of the spirit from the jdy at will. In the ability of the spirit to depart m this Earthly covering, and soar through bound- space to other worlds, to Jupiter, to Mars, to urn, to Venus, and all the bright array of planets ich are far beyond the reach of mortal eye. * * I likewise believe that the body can be kept for rs without food, without drink, and free from :ay, provided the life principle is stupefied, not ed, and that the body is kept free from accidents ttch would deprive the vital parts of their func- s. * I have discovered that the life principle is efied when the body is entranced, or when it is rpowered by certain peculiar practices, and a srful drug or essence which simply is a trance ucer, and not really a poison. For poison i8 KAKTH-BOkN. destroys, while this does not kill, but simply "uspends the functions. " * Sooner or later, a dormant body, made so under favorable conditions, will come to life when re- entered by the spirit. " * Know also, that the spirit leaves the body under these dormant conditions, as it does sometimes in sleep, in dreams, in trances, aye, and in death, although in the latter case it never returns, for the life principle is then completely destroyed. The dead body has no use for the living spirit, which m itself can never die. " * Know also, that the soul, the covering of the spirit, resembles the body in shape, and is the essence of the Earth. " * Thiit all the desires, hopes, aspirations, faults, of each individual are contained in the soul, the same out of as in the body, and that each soul could be recognized by those who knew its body upon Earth could it but be seen with the lens of the mor- tal eye, out of which the spirit sees while in the body. " * However, as the body alone is material, so the body alone has brute, material power, and the spirit, freed from the body, has no power to protect the body, or to assist it in any material danger which threatens it. " * The spirit can impress by visions, dreams, thoughts and premonitions, other spirits, but this is all. " * The material, or bodily power, being absent, the spirit has no material force to rely upon whatever, Consequently it must act through the minds and not the bodies of mortal men when out of the body itself. life* EARTII-BORV. «9 ;, faults, he same il could ly upon he mor- e body. 1, so the e spirit, itect the r which dreams, I but this Isent, the rhatever, Inds and :he body " ' I wish to impress this upon you fully, so that you may appreciate the utter helplessness of the spirit in a material way when out of the body, and that you may also know how important it is to keep the body intact and free from injury while the spirit is absent, so that when it returns it may find its house habitable, in condition to receive it, and the life principle not destroyed while in its dormant state/ " * And what do you propose to do ? ' I asked, with great misgivings. * I intend to take a spirit journey with the Count- less, and leave our bodies in your keeping until we eturn to claim them, and renew our mortal life.* "'And when will this be?' I asked, thinking to umor him out of this project. " * We shall return when we have explored the |tJniverse,' he answered, 'and its dimensions being tterly unknown our stay cannot be limited to days nd weeks, or even years as yet. If satisfied, we jfhall remain away for years, perhaps forever, but if e fail in finding what we wish, we may return at ,^ ince. > V « ( ^jj^ ^Q ^Q^ j.^j^ jjQ j.jgj^ jjj ^jjjg spirit enterprise : asked. *' ' None, save in leaving the body to be cared for ly mortals who often think it dead when it simply es stupefied, and treat it accordingly, bury it, burn mutilate it, or drive the life completely out of it various practices.' ' * And if I refuse to take care of the bodies when e spirits have fled?' I asked. "'Then will you never know another peaceful oment if we return to Earth. For spirits have this 20 EARTII-nOKN. power left, to haunt and impress mortals with fear continually, and while they cannot do bodily injury, they can so punish them mentally that they often seek death as a release from torture.' " * But the Countess Lena, will she willingly go on this mad journey ? ' I exclaimed, beginning to realize that his mind was made up fully. ** * At her special request we go together. We have taken spirit journeys before, but then she had no voice in the matter. Her spirit was under my control, and followed me.* " * You must be mad,' I rejoined, feeling terrified at his words, 'for I am her confessor, and she has never mentioned this to me.* " ' No. She never knew anything of it when I returned with her to the body, for there is one pecu- liarity about journeys taken in that way. It is this. They are not remembered in the body. " * The faculty of memory is really more of a human than a spirit faculty, in this, that the human memory is a photograph gallery, upon which each act of life is photographed and kept minutely. The negatives in this gallery , so to speak, can be destroyed, as is frequently done, by spells of sickness, blows upon the head or falls, which by acting upon the material body destroys the memory, but not the spirit, which simply reads the memory, as the reader does a book. " * Upon this book of memory are left only such impressions as come to us in mortal life, the book, or gallery, itself, being mortal. Consequently the spirit freed from the body, has no tablet of human memory to refer to and record its experiences, and when the spirit returns to the body all memory of what happened in that state is obliterated, unless EARTH-BORN. 21 arrangements are made to retain the experiences in other ways. " • But the spirit has a memory of what occurs in this state, and every time it re-enters that condition ^it remembers what took phice in previous states of the same kind in the same life. This is spirit lemory, not human memory, however. It can lever be destroyed.' " 'And docs the freed spirit remember the experi- ences it passed through in the mortal body ?* I iked. The spirit memory records and retains every- ling, not only in the body, but out of it, while the unan memory is often dcfcctiv^e. Should you ever ;e your soul and spirit from the material surround- Ig it, and range through space at will, you will Jtter understand these things. 1 have done so. 'ou may do so if you will. I talk now to the man, [ot to the priest. ** ' God forbid that I should ever do so,' I devoutly lid, 'until my appointed time, when I shall bid rewell to the body forever.' |"^As you please, but remember this, that it is iture, only, and her laws, a\ hich can so act upon le human S3'^stem. "'The same law of life governs the despised ^rpent that governs man, yet we set our minds ftily above it, and say, you have no spirit which res hereafter, we have. * My belief is so grand, so liberal, that I believe ich animal endowed with some spirit element, as ^ell as life principle, for v/ithout spirit elements, the Bfe principle is useless, and could not even provide for itself. 22 EARTH-HORN. " ' You call it instinct in the bnite, and soul or spirit in man, yet some brutes show more spirit element than some men, more affection, less cruelty, more faith, less selfishness *. " ' This is blasphemy,' I said. " * Against man, not nature. But we w ill not dis- cuss it. Nothing save spirit life experience will ever teach humanity how crude are human ideas, how limited is human knowledge, and how little we really understand the world about us and its mysteries. " * I go to explore them, do you remain behind and carefully tend the shell I leave with you. " ' But remember this, that spirits cannot only return to their own bodies, but can enter others, and fight for possession, sometimes conquering the weaker soul element, rendering the human either better or worse than before. " ' Neither wall, or fire, or water, can stop the freed spirit. It is like the wind, it is like the air. It is here, it is there. It goes where it will and nothing save a stronger spirit power can deter it. " * I promise you now, that if you fail in attendance upon my body, I will fight with your soul for posses- sion of your body, and I shall win if I attempt it. " * And now good-night and farewell, I must go.* " * But stay a moment, what shall be done with your body should this prove true ? ' I cried. " ' She will tell you. I go to explore and must prepare. " ' Ere we meet again the mysteries of life and the silences of death, the throes of the earthquake and the rush of the tornado, the grand depths of the fathomless ocean and the limitless spaces beyond the r-:- KAUllMlORM. as ■k$ stars, beyond our sun, all that the Universe contains, shall be laid before me )*ke an open book. " * Grovel in this little world, Minotti, and seek to console yourself for its want of satisfaction to your pirit in hopes of a life beyond. *• * I go to explore that life before my time. Fare- ell ! ' •* His eyes blazed as he spoke, and the daring spirit f the man shone out of them with enthusiastic fer- i^^or. He disappeared, and I felt strangely awed, yet jjttracted by his words. What did they mean? ould it be true, or was he insane ? Certainly the tter, I reasoned. " I had just made up my mind to follow and argue m out of his purpose, or, failing in that, to implore m to attempt his experiment alone and not involve e Countess in it, when the door opened and she peared. " What a vision of loveliness she then presented, ever had I seen her so sweetly sad*, so resigned, so autiful. She stood a moment looking at me, with ,er great grey searching eyes, as if questioning my ry thoughts, and then said : " ' Father, I have sinned against the church and od. Upbraid me not. Seek not to dissuade me, it ill be useless,* and her tones were firm, though sad. *' How it came about I know not, but it seemed as my powers of reasoning were deadened within me hen I looked at her. I saw and felt it would be eless to argue or implore, and she divined it. till I spoke calmly : " * Confess to God and the church ; pray for trength and it will come.' " * Too late for strength to avail me now. What I H EARTH-BORN. have felt since I first met Count Balzac will soon come to pass. For ..;ood or for evil, his spirit con- trols mine, and I follow where he leads. " ' Do not waste your arguments upon the inevit- able, but listen, while I may tell. " * The Count has told you we go on a journey, and that our stay is uncertain. I go willingly, gladly, but ere I go, to you, my friend and my con- fessor, I contide my child. " * Should I not return for years, rear him in the " belief that he is an orphan, for I seem to feel that it is the safer way. Give him the name of my father's house and call him Adrian Courcey. " * If in twenty years from to-night I have not re- turned to claim him, then in your judgment you may tell him all. It is the Count's wish and my own.' " * In twenty years I may be dead,' I answered as in a dream. " * Then let the mystery of his house die witfi you. It is better thus, perhaps, for know that my great fortune is so fixed that his life would be in danger as my son and heir, were he left alone in the world as such. In twenty years he will have reached man- hood and can defend himself from enemies now pow- erful.' " ' You are fully determined upon your course, regardless of all consequences ? ' I said. " ' I am fully determined. I hope for the best, and that we shall shortly return, but if not, then remem- ber, and above all keep your knowledge secret, for my sake. " ' Let the world think what it will. I shall be be- yond it. But my Adrian will be here, and I shall Pi 'i; EARTlI-liORN. 25 see him again. I feel it. He shall see me as you see me now and shall talk to me as you talk, in his man- hood.' " * When do you go, and how ? * " ' In a little while, and by means of this,' and she held a vial of clear liquid, pure and golden-hued, to the light. " A thought flashed over me. ' Let me see it,* I cried eagerly. " She smiled sadly and handed it to me, saying : " * I divine your purpose, but it is useless. Still, you may keep it, and if at some time you would join the world of disembodied souls, this will aid you. But it is the final step only. Before the draught is taken, the body must be prepared by fasting, and the mind by research, for the more you subdue the body, the greater is the mind master of it, and the easier it becomes to leave it, " * Study what you will find in this room, and you will learn how to master your own spirit/ " * Countess, your words terrify me for the safety of your soul hereafter. You were not always as- you are to-night,* I answered. " • No. I feel strangely different to-night from ever before, and yet I have a dim recollection that I have felt this way in some degree at times, but not so strongly as now. " ' But listen, for the hour is drawing near when T must go. I charge you to watch over my child as I will ever watch over you both. Follow your im- pressions regarding him, for if possible, I will im- press you in his behalf. Educate him, but not as a priest. Some day he may come to his own, when his enemies and mine are at rest/ 26 EARTH-BORN. " Here she sighed deeply, and walking to that portrait which you see panelled over the mantel- piece, pressed a secret spring, and disclosed a hidden recess behind the picture. Drawing from it a packet and a miniature, she handed them to me with these words ; " * On the twentieth anniversary of to-night, should you both live, you are free to disclose to the heir of our house his true name and station. Show him this miniature of his mother, tell him of her sorrow at leaving him, of her uncertainty and doubt regarding the future, and open this packet, which will explain some things now unexplainable. " ' Count Balzac has charged you with the mission of watching over the empty dormant body I charge you with a holier mission, th:it of watching over and caring for the living body and the budding . spirit. As you treat my child, so may Heaven remember you, for my sake and his, "'You will find in yonder recess the Count's sacred books, which he bade me confide to you. Delve not into these mysteries, if 3"ou would be con- tent with the world around you, and remain a faith- ful priest. " * At your sanctuary you will find a letter, con- taining a sufficient legacy for the education of my Adrian. " ' As for our bodies, the Count's and my own, all that will be necessary is to keep them from harm. You will find written instructions in the letter. Re- member my child. Farewell ! till we meet again.* " * When shall that be ? ' I asked in dumb agony. " * To-morrow you shall see my body, and I shall see you. Farewell I * ill EAKTH-IJORN. 27 s mission " * I started to my feet, and would have implored her to reconsider, but she suddenly disappeared, seemingly through the solid wall, and I heard the Count s voice, in far away but distinct tones : " ' Farewell ! Minotti. You have spoken with her soul to-night. Her body you will find, but not here. Farewell ! till we meet again.' " I rushed from the room, and knocked at the door of the Count's apartments. His valet appeared, stating that his master had left the house some mo- ments before, and that he knew not where he had gone. I searched the apartments, but the Count had indeed left. " The Countess had not been seen since early in ^the evening, and you, a babe of three years, were all [that was left of the Balzac race in the house of the f Balzacs. I stopped and looked at you, but did not disturb your sleep. You lay so quiet amid these strange scenes that I had not the heart to waken you. " I went to the sanctuary, not knowing what else to do, and there I found this letter," and Minotti handed Adrian a faded package. Adrian quietly opened the letter, earnestly pe- rused its contents, giving vent to an occasional inter- jection of surprise, finally finished it, and looking up with sudden interest said : " Did you find their bodies exactly as described in this letter?" " I did, the following day." " And were they carried to the tomb, which it seems had been prepared for them in advance, safely and without accident ? " ** Yes, after lying in state here for three days, they were followed to their resting place near Versailles, 28 EARTII-HORxN. on the private estates of the Count, being denied burial in consecrated ground, as he anticipated and wished, thus rendering the plan an easy one." " Have they been there from then till now, and have you seen them since ?" " I have seen them since, and they are still in their Egyptian tomb, unnoted by the gay and busy world around, forgotten, and I trust, forgetting." " Has no decay marred their features in all these years ? " " None. They are as perfect now, ^nd she as beau- tiful, as twenty years ago. In fact, more so, if any- thing. No line of suffering or anxiety dims the beauty of her face. No trace of age throws its disfig- uring shadow over the contour of that lovely form.'* " All this is very strange to me, so much so, that did I not know you well, Minotti, I should say it was the tale of an enthusiast gone mad over the dream- ings of his imagination. " I, a Balzac, the heir of a house once fortunate, now fallen, and having a father and a mother liv- ing, and not dead, though dead to all the world for years. " What think you, candidly, Minotti, of this ? Do you believe it ? * " I know it. Would to God and the church I did and could not believe it. My life has been harassed for years with this knowledge ; with this secret and its consequences. " Now that it is told at last, I feel relieved, but you, who would know, you will not escape, I fear. Knowing some things, you will strive to learn more, as I did, and then farewell to rest and peace and con- tentment with this world." EARTH-BORN. 29 " You are right. I am not content. My restless spirit already feels the truth of what you .say, and yearns and pants for knowledge of the unknowable and unknown to mortals. What my father knew, that will 1 know, and more, aye, more." Adrian arose to his feet as he spoke, and his flash- ing eyes turned from Minotti to the panelled portrait on the wall. Was it his imagination ? Did he dream ? or did a faint smile overcast the features of the portrait, and a gleam of life apparently flash from its intelligent eyes. "Ha! Minotti, sec!" cried Adrian, pointing to the panel, which was slowly opening, as if drawn by invisible hands. Minotti looked and shuddered visibly, while an ashen hue overspread his face. He sprang to his feet, and they both gazed intently at the phenomena. The portrait was now apparently still smihng, and within the recess a hand, dimly visible, waved to and fro in the darkness, with the index finger ever point- ing to a roll which lay beneath. Adrian sprang forward, as if to grasp the roll, but Minotti gripped his arm and huskily said, " One moment, ere you decide. If you knew that inside that panel lay a secret which might ruin your life in this world, and jeopardize your spirit beyond, would you still grasp it ? " " Aye, though Death itself, and Hell were now com- bined in yonder recess, and stretched forth their arms to welcome me, still I would fathom this secret. I feel now that I am indeed a Balzac. Knowledge I will possess, be it what it may, and lead to where it will." io EARTH BORN. And the enthusiastic youn^ man rushed forward to the cabinet, and again would have grasped the roll, but the portrait swung back, and with a rapid click the panel closed ere he could reach it, while Minotti muttered under his breath, in a relieved whisper : " Not' yet." Adrian turned with a bewildered expression to his companion, whose head was lowered upon his hands. Then he looked at the panel, but the shadow of a smile no longer lighted up the dark, foreign features of the portrait, which were now absolutely forbidding in their stern severity. A shade of disappointment also seemed to linger over the features, and the lips appeared ready to open with denunciation, but no sound came from them. " How is this Minotti ? What does this mean ? " cried Adrian. *' It means that the power of the living is greater than that of the dead. That the living priest is still mightier than the dead scientist. You may if you must delve into forbidden things, but not until you are prepared," calmly replied Minotti, while beads of perspiration stood upon his forehead, as evidencing the effort he had made. "Come," he cried, grasping his companion's arm, "the day is breaking, and soon all Paris will be awake. I cautioned you about entering this house, and it will not do for others to see us here together. Your enemies and mine are watchful of that which they have stolen, and even this property, this house, is no longer your own. Come, ere those awake who should not see you." And Minotti slipped the pack- * EARTH-BORN. 31 Drward 1% )ed the 1 I rapid 1 , while 1 L'lieved L jion to )on his w of a matures idding itment he lips 3ut no lean? »i greater is still if you til you beads sncing ag^e and the portrait into the folds of his mantle, and started for the door. But Adrian still lingered, and gazing at the por- trait said : *' Whose face is this, so dark and majesticlooking? It must have been an ancient king of the old world." ** No. It is the portrait of some ancient sorcerer, I believe, and two of them, together with the cabinets and their contents, were purchased by the Count from some dealer in antiquities at Cairo, who had no power to use them. He knew not what they were. *' Those who would discover the secrets of the cabinet must possess more than ordinary attributes, and you, by evidence to-night, possess them. None living, save yourself and I, know aught but that this is a simple portrait hanging lazily upon the wall of this disused room. " But come, and quickly, for the people are stirring below, and they should not see you here." And the two slowly and silently reached the land- ing, and Minotti producing a key, unlocked the en- trance, and they stepped out upon the street, care- fully closing the door after them. s arm, rill be bouse, ether, which louse, e who pack- CHAPTER II. " THIS IS A STRANGE WORLD." It was early morning, the harbingers of coming day, the venders of vegetables, cartmen and milk- men were already straggling one by one over the streets which would so soon be alive with the busy rush of Parisian daylight. The East was faintly illumined, heralding the ap- proaching mornmg, and overhead the stars were beginning to lose their brightness and pale before the coming splendor of the fire-girt sun, but far down in the horizon, lingering brightly and shining serenely beautiful and clear, Saturn hung over the world. A blazing planet in limitless space, a bril- liant beacon among the host of shining stars sur- rounding. " My star," observed Adrian, " the star of my nativity. They say that Saturn at the natal hour brings much mystery and change to mortals. Of mystery and change my life has been indeed made up, and yet I feel that what I have seen is as nothing to what I will see." " What you have seen to-night prepares you some for what you may see in the future," quietly replied Minotti. "And when shall I begin?" eagerly rejoined Adrian. " First of all, and rit once, I would go to the buried pyramid on tlie old estate. I must see the bodies of my parents, and then join them, or 32 ■•m WOl ft not mi bodi knoi Mi' **^ but Tile isjt itmo EARTII-1U)RN. 33 of coming I and milk- e over the th the busy ing the ap- stars were pale before un, but far and shining ip- over the Dace, a bril- g stars sur- star of my natal hour nortals. Of ndced made is as nothing es you some ietly replied -ly rejoined [vQuld go to I must see >in them, or ring back the wandering spirits to their Earthly omcs. "My mother, how I long to see her once alive; feci a mother's love, to fold her in my arms, for- er free from trial and solicitude. " But have you never felt her presence near you all these years ? Has no premonition warned you t she might possibly be watching over you in my alf ? " Yes, I have felt her presence. More than that, I r have seen her standing near, but ever when I would accost her, she disappears. Latterly, she has not appeared to me, and I have diligently sought hc^, but without avail," rejoined Minotti. " But we tfj^l together visit the resting place where the bdllies lie, and the sooner the better, now that you knbw all." 1*Whenshallitbe?" '♦We will go to the chateau with the rising sun, but will not disturb the sarcophagus until later. Tll!?re are curious people passing that way occasion- ally, and it is better n(jt to excite a curiosity that is jiill existeiit regarding the Chateau Balzac and itei-Owner. There are many strange tales afloat in the neighborhood about the Count, and the people areevcr ready for some new development. No vis- itors will stay at the chateau, the report being that ft is the home of evil spirits, and to this report we <^^ our surest way to secrecy, if we are careful. ^Bhe sooner we get there the better it will be for ouSpurpose," replied Minotti. lere, Minotti? E ■p^,n^r you go ■uard as was desired, and faithfully? you 'I keep faithful watch through another, and go 34 EARTH-BORN. myself regularly. Do you remember my frequent trips in which you were never allowed to participate ? This was my destination. But here is a cab return- ing doubtless from some late gathering. Hail it and we start at once." Adrian, who was all impatience, hailed the driver who sleepily asked their destination, and wh" m told it was near Versailles, refused to take the trio, and was about driving on, when Minotti drew out :i purse and olTercd thrice the fare. The offer \v?s: tempting, and the cab was engaged. They entered. and were soon speeding away at a fair pace for tlic mysterious chateau. The early and dim light of the coming day height ened the marked contrast between the faces of the two men. Mmotti sat back in sombre silence, his general h? impassive features and calm demeanor now givin- place to an expression cf defiant submission, and yc: of glad relief, chastened by mental suffering into sad ness and vague, apprehensive uncertainty. He looked the man whose mind was made up ioi the worst, and yet who hoped for the best under tht press of fatality, and the knowledge that sooner or later the coming problem of that day must be met, Adrian's countenance, on the contrary, was fairlj ablaze with enthusiasm and hope. Determinatior lurked in the set curve of his lips, and flashed froi: the bright glance of his brilliant eyes. It needed no second glance to tell the careful o'j server that this man's life had undergone some mar velous change since the previous evening, that wi'^ and ambition had awakened at once, and togei:hc:| had clasped hands in a united effort to change t!i| current of his previously inactive life. si m EARTHBORN. 35 y frequent ,articipatc':' cab rcturii- T Hail it , the driver and wh< '1 ike the trio, i drew out :' ,e offer w: hey entered, pace for the Where would they lead him, those winched coursers jf tlie mind, which, left untranmiclcd, ever speed on- Yard till mortals tire and fall exhausted by the way in vain efforts to keep side by side ? The mind and its passions — how they lash our poor bodies into submission, durinj^ life, and at the %st hour, when the unequal struj^gle between mind tod matter leads to death, how loftily the former soars above the worn out shell, and seeks compan- ionship with kindred spirits elsewhere. But the ambition, the will, the desires, are they left behind, buried in the decayed body ? Who can of a surety answer ? Not Adrian as yet. |Dn they sped. Fainter and fainter shone the stars ol^head — brighter and brighter grew the eastern sH^. But far away in tlie firmament, wSaturn still d^ed the coming day to quench his light, and (jaimed as brightly as before. ;Soon, ah, soon, Adrian, thy star shall give way to glorious light of the day god. Soon, ah, soon, sh$ll you enter upon a new existence, and thy pre- vilHis life shall grow dim before it, as does Saturn re the sunlight. And while they are rolling toward the chateau, let iry, was fainyEus take a brie^ view of the two men so intimately Determinatioi^ifiljl^wn together. ght. r day hei I faces of the his generally r now givin;, 5s:on, and ye: jring into sad- ity. J made up for )est under tlu hat sooner or nust be met d flashed fr (11 the careful o' one some ma; ming, that ^vl , and togetb^ to change t' ■ father Minotti, a native of Corsica, had early left '^^t island, and entered the priesthood in Paris, where Ihad been attached to several parishes during |lnany years of service to the church. At this time ^as attached to the parish of the Church of St. lennc du Mont, adjoining the Pantheon, and one the oldest churches of old Paris, but when Adrian 36 EAR'III-nORN. t o ci H had been so mysteriously committed to his care, he was a mcm.bcr of the pricsth()(;d of St. Medard, and was best known as the Religions Priest of St. Med. ard,a name he had trained by his ri<;id observance of all the rules and ceremonies of the church. In appearance, Father Minotti was of mediuir. height, heavily set, with Inroad, massive brows, lar^a- intelligent grey eyes, grey hair, and a face whose gen- eral appearance denoted sombre thought and miici dl self-communion, unless lit by one of his occasion;: X smiles, which had seldom occurred of late, however CO r.nd then it appeared the face of a kindly, gentl: i sympathetic priest, ever ready to listen to the illsi yo his parishioners, and give them a kind v/ord, or : *9^ encouraging glance. He might have been fifty yer. ^^i of age, judging from his general appearance. "^^^ His companion, the young Adrian Courcey, h: ^^*J just completed his twenty-third year, and 1 " appearance indicated that he was a true son of I "^^ studious sire. ®* His eyes were dark and dreamy, save when lit :"^®J the fire of enthusiasm and determin ^^^on. His bn was broad and intellectual, his hair dark and wavS"* his mouth large, and determination lurked in t^i slightly drooping corners. His chin square and fir^^'*^^ and his figure above the medium height, and w^^^ built, in graceful yet wiry proportions. The f: - , was closely shaven, showing every feature plair. ^^ and denotinor much research, for he had been e;. W^ put under instruction, and had several of the ! J***- tutors, especially in astronomy, which was his fav study. Oui Withal, he was gifted with a generous disposiu andastrong, healthy constitution. His life had M i:AkTll-IU>UN. 3; his care, Vie ' Medard, and t of St. Med. observance oi fcb. 3 of mediurr. 5 brows, lar«;e Lce whose ^^en. ight and mud his occasic^n; late, howcvii kindly, gentV. ,entotheills> indword, or; 3 been fifty ye^^ ,earance. ^n Courcey, hi and ^ of 1 year, uTiewhat secluded, and his history, as we have seen, lad been sedulously kept from him by Minotti, who lor.c knew its details. He had never journeyed out of France, and with the exception of occasional trips about the environs lOl Paris, k..ew but little of the world outside that &ty, but Paris ho knew well, and next he knew Ver- (jl^les, where the magnificent royal ])alace and gar- dens were situated, and where at this time Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette held their brilliant court. ' He had not been impregnated with the views of Voltaire, although at his dcatb., some few years be- iox^ he had been greatly interested in tiic excite- mml occasioned by the refusal c^f tlie church to bury tht^|K)dy, and the fight made by the French Academy ovir-this decision. Blit while Voltaire had not interested him, with hisimbelief in the church, the Count de St. Germain, true so ex-Mmister of War to Louis X V'l., present king, with ,-. ,hi*j^rious beliefs, his unexplained origin, his mystic ave w asaj^ifetions, and his claims to have lived in successive ^^^' A vav^**^^^^^*^"^ through his wonderful Golden Elixir, ^^^^^\ \^ 1^9°^!^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ stories that he had restored to Ion lurked ^^^, yQy^^j: ^nd strength the old Due de Richelieu many u square an ^^ygj^i^ before, under the previous king, Louis XV., height, ^jj^^ ^j^|. j^g |^,^j been seen by many old people at )rtions. .various courts and under different kings, but always leature JJ ^ reiiifc anrl vnnncr — fhi« inf-f^rfct^H Arlri^n'c fnno^r onri ■y icaui*-- r rc^ and young— this mterested Adri^i's fancy, and he had been ^^Stil his imacrination. several of thel j achwashisfav^ ad likewise read with great interest the ac- of Frederick Antony Mesmer, the celebrated .^rertiran physician w^ho a few years before set Paris onerous dispo^ ..^^^j^j^ j^.^ theories and his performances, and His life had - 3» EARTH-BORN. m |l I although he had been unable to mesmerize Benjamin Franklin, the great defender of American liberty, then in Paris, and his theories had been rejected by the forty in the French Academy, still he had created such an enthusiasm as the French alone so sponta- neously give, and Adrian remembered the occur- rences well. Then followed the excitement occasioned by the Count Cagliostro, the pfotege of Cardinal de Rohan, and the wonders told of his performances, even leaving Mesmer in the shade ; whose travels in Egypt, Turkey and the Eastern countries, it wa; said, had discovered the philosopher's stone and who made gold at will, according to report, and whc5e mansion was visited by the highest noblesse o: France. But Cagliostro's brilliant career was suddenly cu: short by the theft of the celebrated diamond nee: lace, in which he, the Cardinal de Rohan, and other were «mplicated, and were said to have obtainci possession of the necklace, valued at a fortune Oj i,8:x:,ooo livres, from the Court Jewelers, Boehme S\ Bassange, and sent it to England for division, tk !iame of the Queen, Marie Antoinette, being forgei in order to obtain it. Accounts of these and other peculiar people ( the times had filled Adrian's leisure hours v/ich niuc g^| mystic reading, and well he remembered the aw with which Me had gazed upon these personage: especially the Count de St. Germain. This is a brief history of the two men rapid! nearing Versailles in the early morning hours. fi " This is a strange world," suddenly said Adri breaking tlie silent reflection of his companion. I^-SC; pel EARTH-BORN. 39 - Benjamin ;an liberty, -ejected by had created ; so sponta- the occur. Loned by the al de Rohan, lances, even e travels In ttries, it wa; tone and who t, and whose noblesse 01 " There are many strange things in this life, and so nbelievablc that man, who usually is willing to be- lieve only in the commonplace, is sometimes com- pelled in spite of much fraud, to admit that many Ishings arc unexplainable to fmite minds. (> " The Earth, this strange world of ours, quakes ISlpncath our feet, great chasms open, and yawning abysses stretch before our eyes where just before seemed solid ground. Mountains topple and fall to ^le level of the sandy plain, while from the plain afise new mountains toward the sky. Volcanoes Open, and from their fiery throats belch forth an un- Sfeenmied torrent of sheeted flame. Aerolites spin fl^C^ the blue vault of the sky, and striking deep in her Earth, leave no tale of whence they came. sers spout forth at stated intervals from crevices, and sink away into the bowels of the Earth. Islands of ocean disappear, and new ones form. *^Man lives and dies, a temporary atom in a chwiging world. Races have come and gone, have a fortune t leS their works, and we know them not. They have lers Boehm*^ fallen into the oblivion of the past, buried so deep r division, thsaire cannot resurrect their customs or their history. being fo^g^M' '**^^^ ^'^'-^ ^s the strangest phenomena of all, with j$, ambitions, his desires, his activity, his numerous liar people f petty ends to be gained, and the means he adopts to urs with muc^^in them. His various grades of intelligence, of ibered the '-^^^Jplpo^"'^' "^ beliefs. His unsatisfied, restless spirit, se personage|||^ above all, his four-fold nature, and his dual ■ r, material and mental. en know not what they are. Not one out of a sand knows what constitutes that material body h in drudgery tc^ the spiri^ passes daily before How curious its construction, how numerous o men rapidl; g hours, ly said Adria; mpanion. i suddenly cii; liamond ned lan, and other lave obtainci 1 ^£ **wL H am ■ ^4 I Y( I ^^' m is I sh^ i 1 1 ■ .11 EARTH-BORN. ^ • 1. '^ofi^ ii'^ various 1 1 r^nlU how intricate u^ ^u. are its ^ones and cells ho -^.^^ ^^ then, workings and Its vvondertu ^.^^ called mina, ^^ S S i"a?:e;i;r ror ieel. and therefore . h. :SiI^^^w%-:s unable to app^^^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^,„ . Ah, Adrian, there are "'^"y ^^^end before death that -hich -^;^n t dtc-e^ the secrets „ To some few it is given to ^^^^ ^,„ nature, and those few, '"^„^*^^itgeismorelimite happy than those whose knowte^^^^^^^^ ^ ^.^^^ ^,__^ ..But you sf^lyjXn its ambitions down t pants for wisdom to Chan It ^^ ^^^^ .^ ^^,„ Lrth. and S^^^l J'%', rather let it ever eec desires and pettiness, i ' v ; ^ becomes (. SLSttSjt^o^BrndVW^ans^ ^'rotti looked at hhn^ and Jhed;^, ,,o, « .. Your fate is sealed he saxa j^ ^^^^^ ^„ become a ^e^kerjifter toowle Je - ^ ^^^^^ ^^ on Earth. Perhaps "^^ ^^^^^^i i„ after ye saved you.butit wasnot to be. O y^ ^^^ .^ when yo^^-^^tshi cri for more, while: still the mind un easing Adrian, reff. Led body asks for ^^J'^f^uhe end would bcr that Minotti -'a-^d y°u ^ ^^ ^^^ ..^ ^e ga. S1e^SL1^rthf.;-Hous forces of natu«^ • "'TwUi ...ember it, and.y^- 1 --^/^^ ^ ever on in I'n-l^'ifth^ hoirsway over me , who are n.y en«-f./„'fj'°y „ame, my wealt ^rHrL7;-regrthatUichislost,..d- EARTH-BORN. 41 its various How, then, called mind, ereiore in his js learn after •ehend before, the secrets 0, - far more un-^ fmore limited: |, 56 a mind tha.| .itions down tf herd in sn^a ;. let it ever sec ^ it becomes ti .agerly answer. ,nd you, too, Nvi^ vrhich never en \ would hs nly in alter yci you all it can,: r more, while l n, Adrian, rernt the end woulo ^ not to be ga^i )rces of nature : re your enemies? Ah, Adrian, I cannot tell you low the story, but some day you shall know. They WG still powerful, very t owerful. That much I know by sad experience," and Minotti relapsed into silence, as the cab rolled on « 1 i must go on. ,^er. ButteU sway over me, ,ame, my wealt .ichislost.si'd CHAPTER IIx. THE VEILED n si FIGURE OF ISIS CHAMBER. IN THE CURTAINED « and oft The sun was rising as the cab stopped at the gate- way of an ancient looking chateau, gabled and tur- reted as though a relic of feudal antiquity. The driveway which stretched forth to view had evidently long been disused, judging from the neglected aj> pearance of the trees which lined it, and the patches of grass and weeds which grew luxuriantly over the roadway. " We will alight here," said Minotti, *' and then tht ^^ i cab can return without exciting the curiosity of an ^ stray passer-by." zy^i So they alighted, paid the triple fare, and as tli *« driver whipped his horse toward Paris, the two lai th^ fares picked their way carefully along the once grani t|j», but now deserted driveway, and were soon standin thd before the massive entrance to the chateau, or ratlit hjIj, castle, for now as they gazed at its columns, its tu J^ rets, and terraces, and noted the strength of bui fepati and size of the edifice, it ranked in proportions his many of the famous feudal castles of the land. " And do you call this the Chateau Balza queried Adrian. " Yes, since it was the wish of your father, and e^ his father before him. As you see, it originally vt a magnificent structure, costly and grand, but } aiii; student ancestors paid more attention to learn 43 '«*: EARTH-BORN. 43 S CURTAINED ban to buildin<^, and improved their minds rather an their ancestral home. Consequently, not caring to keep up its grandeur as a castle, it was closed to the public, and much of it disused for several gen- isrations past, until it became known to the world as iiaiply the Chateau Balzac, home of the recluse race, ab|^ among the poorer classes, as the abode of the devil. It is said there are suites of rooms here, that have not been opened to the light for over a C^tury, owing to various events which occurred in tliem, and v/hich rendered them distasteful to your race.** ** Does no one stay here ? '* **No one but Philip Hauton, a learned hunchback, andlhe onl}' because, here, he is free from the jibes of ^e world, and can indulge in his favorite pastime and then tk to^ms heart's content." *VAnd what is that, and where is he?" queried Addian rather impatiently. *' Here is one of his pets," said Minotti, and at iris the two lat thl^^ instant a hooded serpent slowly undulated r the once gran thf4ligh the weeds, and raised its head, looking at re soon standi the iptruders with blinking eyes and easy grace, as bateau, or ratbt imi^ as to say, " I am at home, but where are 3'ou." columns, its tn Adrian grasped a handy club, and would have de- strength of bui spafcched the reptile fui thwith, but Minotti stayed in proportions hii^ arm, remarking : of the land. *? Po not kill it. It is not the fault of the serpent bateau Balzac thl^^|t is here. This is simply one of the descend- ai^^|pf some reptile that your father fostered in his our father, andcf^s to discover the law of nature by which they lie it originally ^^tcSpd during the winter. You will see others here, d grand, but yaildythey were all petted during your father's life, ^ntion to learnSwson should not destroy them. Besides, Philip jd at the gate. abled and tur- itiquity. The J had evidently ; neglected ^ ind the patches riantly over tbt :uriosity of aiv fare, and as tk 44 EAKTH-BORN, would never forget or forgive you, and his confi- dence and help are necessary to the fulfillment of ni}- task. He watches over the bodies of the Count and Countess, and as carefully tends the pets the Count left behind." " Such pets as these are not to my liking," said Adrian, as the reptile having finished its survey, slowly moved away. "Are any of them ooison- ous.?" " Certainly, but a Balzac need never be afraid of a serpent. It is one of the hereditary gifts of your race to hold them in submission to your wishes." " In other words we were a race of snake charmers," said Adrian, as though he deemed it anything but a compliment. " Yes, if you so wish to call it," answered Minotti, " but here comes a herald which invariably announces the arrival of Philip," and as he spoke a beautiful raven flew over their heads and perched upon a bough within ten feet of where they stood, and almost immediately a man appeared upon the scene, and like the serpent, slowly raised his head and sur- veyed them. It was no ordinary face which peered out from be neath those grey locks and broad, white hat, but it was a sad and melanchol)^ one, at this moment. The eyes were black as night, and large and questioning. The face was shaven smooth, and showed many lines of thought and sorrow. The mouth was large and thin lipped, but handsome, and the chin was squarf and determined looking. Withrl, it might have been the face cf a man ( forty, or of fifty, or of sixty, and it certainly was ti face of a scholar, whatever the age of its owner. TL ■.«*-'ii EARTH-BORN. 4S his confi- nentof my Count and the Count dng," said its survey, 3m Doison- afraid of a ts of your vishes." charmers," thing but a ed Minotti, ' announces a beautiful ed upon a stood, and the scene, ad and sur- ut from be hat, but it ment. The uestioning. many lines s large and was squarr f a man <^ ily was t: wner. TL. head was larj^e, resting above the drawn shoulders jof a hunchback, for he was deformed, and this was ^the source of most of his grievances in life, and it had brought him much secret rebellion against his pt licre. His arms and limbs looked longer than they eally were, owing to his shortened body. He pre- ntcd a queer, yet sad appearance, as he stood be- [orc them. " Welcome, Minotti," said Philip, after a second's rvcy, " but who is the stranger, and why is he 4ere? This is, as you know, a dangerous spot for grangers," and Philip laughed grimly, as he eyed Adrian. " Good day, Philip," answered Minotti, " but this no stranger to the Balzac race. M. Courcey, this M. Hauton, savant and scholar, one of the friends f Count Balzac, and so a friend of yours by every ght which governs friendship." Pliilip advanced and cordially grasped the hand eld out by Adrian, looking him squarely in the eyes he did so, rnd saying: "A friend of tlie Balzacs is ever a welcome guest re, at all hours and in all seasons ; but, pardon me, seems t-at y(;u arc young to be a friend of a race e last scion of which must have disappeared ere ou were born," and the black C3-cs questioned drian eycn more than llic speecli. " True, 1 am young, and } ct none have a better ght to claim friendship with the Balzac race," plied Adrian a trifle proudly, for Philip's tone and iyes had nettled him somewhat. " No offense, M. Courcey, was intended, but if you new the various reasons offered by many who come ere -as mere curiosity seekers, and who strive by tl 46 EARTII-CORX. ¥ every ruse to pierce the mystery surrounding this noble chateau, I am sure you would appreciiite my natural distrust of all who enter here, save Minotti alone," returned Philip courteously. " His presence and introduction should have been sufficient for mc in your case, and it is, so pardon the questioning; tone, and the questioner," and as he spoke his dark eyes softened visibly, and their interrogating glance gave way to a more trusting expression, and yet a puzzled one, for Adrian certainly was young to be a friend of the Balzacs. " Philip, my friend," said Minotti, whose attention had been engrossed with the surroundings rather than the speakers, " let us enter the chateau at once, as I have much to say to you, and Adrian and myself are J both somewhat weary, after the night we have passed, |^ Lead us to the curtained chamber first, as it is there you should be told. I feel it." " What ! Lead M. Courcey there ? " cried Philip,|| showing astonishment in every feature. "Ay, there, and then to the very heart of the:| crypt itself, and let him stand beside the sarcopha gus and gaze upon the features of the living dead, responded Minotti, calmly, while at every word Philip's countenance grew darker, and at the last he quietly folded his long arms across his breast, and said " No, Minotti. Not even for you shall I expose tlifi secrets of this chateau to a stranger's gaze. In al these years Count Balzac's strange secret has been! safe with myself, and I suppose with you, but if yoy stand ready now to betray your trust, I do not," am his tones were sad, but firm. "You shall know all presently," replied Minotti. " Do you remember what day this is ? " r 14 EARrn-iioR>r. ending th'r^ .preciivte my ^[ iavc Minotli His presence cient for nic i questionin^^' oke his dark rating glance 3n, and yet a ^oung to be a hose attention igs rather than X at once, as 1 and myself are ire have passed, ,t, as it is there I cried Philipj e. heart of the the sarcopha- le living dead, it every word d at the last luj; breast, and said |.^ lall I expose the^ 47 Minotti, and then r's gaze. In all! secret has beer ^ you,bntif yo^ I. I do not," ancg irepUed Minotti| Illp started, scrutinized fir m, closely, and without a word of distrust said simply : " Follow mc." And to^:;cthcr they entered a side door of the ilding, and were ushered into rirst a sort of ante amber, through which they passed into a long and wide hall, which in turn led into a greater hall, nanning lengthwise of the building. These large halls were misty and dark, there being 110 light in the first save that reflected from a mirror i^posite it in the second, and on entering the large I, the only light there proved to be subdued, inging from a peculiar shaped lamp, which hung m the frescoed ceiling in the form of a five inted star, from each tip of which sprung a faint ht, just sufficient lo enable the eyes of Adrian to tinguish the beautiful outlines of many objects of tu and art. Paintings, with which the walls were d. Armored figures, seemingly, with helmeted ds, and visiers closed, solemnly standing guard he great hallway at regular intervals along the Is. Here hung a silken banner, tasseled and ged, with a gilded inscription upon it that could be deciphered in the darkness, and there, dimly lined in the centre, stood a beautiful fountain, in form of Aphrodite, gracefully leaning over the n beneath and admiring her beautiful figure in mimic ocean. uickly they passed by these and many other ob- s which at another time Adrian would have pad to admire, but Philip strode on ahead rapidly, Minotti came next with a step as firm and quick, Adrian needs must follow. il a] 48 EAkTirnoRN. Suddenly Philip turned, and they followed him up a grand stairway which led with easy steps to tlic floor above. Reachi'>g it, Philip struck a match, and finding a taper, lit it, and led the way to the rear of the hallway, similar to the first, but not so granci. Arriving at the end, they passed through a door v/hich Philip opened with an odd-shaped key, and tlicy found themselves in another but much narrowci Iiall, which seemed to wind around in a circle as they passed along, for at times Philip and the taper would be lost to sight around the curve. At last a curtained door was reached, and here Philip abrupth stopped, and waited for his companions to reach hi^ side, which they did almost instantly. " Enter here," said Philip, and Adrian, who hac hung back by some indefinable sentiment of dread- did as he was bidden, and found himself inoncof tlu|| most peculiar apartments which he had ever Fccn, It appeared to be circular, and yet, no, it was ellipti cal, and hung on every hand with dark, forbiddin.^ curtains. Not a spot on wall or ceiling but Vv'; covered with them. They were rich in texture, am seemingly worked in peculiar figures, with the sacrei Ibis, the horned Apis and pyramids here and there at irregular and seemingly grotesque intervals. In the center of the room stood a pedestal, an.' 1 upon this a veiled figure of a woman. The floor w made of blocks of stone, fitted together in triangul; shapes. There were no chairs or other furniture ii the room, and as he looked around Adrian felt agai that peculiar sensation of dread that had affected hii momentarily at the entrance. All the companions quietly stood a moment afterei teriiig as if no one cared to break the dread silem KARril IJORN. 49 ,-vved him up itcps to the if ck a match, xy to the rear lot so grand. jugh a door ped key, and Lich narrower n a circle as ind the taper ,rQ, At last a 'hilip abruptly IS to reach hi= rian, who hac nent of dreadl elf in one of the had ever seen ,, it was elliptij ark, forbidding eiling but w; in texture, an^ with the sacrc! lere and there , intervals. a pedestal, an' The floor W ler in triaagul^ :her furniture i| S^drian felt aL^ai had affected bu moment after e he dread silem [oi that chamber, and then Minotti slowly said, while le crossed his arms over his breast : " Let the test be made. Adrian, draw that silken iCord which hangs beside the figure. Pull it firmly. Have no fear, and if indeed your spirit is that of a JIalzac, and you wish to penetrate the mysteries of e and knowledge, know that here is the beginning. hat may happen, or what v/e will see, I know not, lilt for the first time in twenty long years, I bid i> jilnother draw the silken cord of the curtained room." ' And as his voice ceased, the fire of youth and dipsire flashed into Adrian's eyes, and he stepped htly forward and drew the silken cord with a firm d and a beating heart. s he drew, the curtains parted in front of them» d slowly rolled away to either side, and before m, as in a dream, appeared a vision of rolling uds, one above the other, and as far as the eye Id reach there was nothing visible but clouds. n there emerged from among them a floating ck, small at first, but gradually growing larger larger as atom after atom of seeming gaseous stance separated themselves from among the ds, and joined the growing ball. Larger and er it grew, more and more atoms rushed toward joined it, and now it was quite a round sphere, ging and revolving in space, while al ove and nd and about it clustered many clouds, but e silver tipped, all dark. ddenly the scene faded away, and in its place e appeared a beautiful light, soft at first, and er, as from a single star, then growing brighter brighter as one star after another shone forth the dark background beyond, and soon the 50 EARTH BO kW. i the scene was one shifting panorama of stars circlini^r around in a never endinti^ circle. And each star up peared to be an atom, similar to those seen before, save that they were larjj^cr, and were illuminated i )\ an all-powerful light coming, it seemed, from abo\ and beyond them. Then the large ball again appeared, sailing \v. space, save that now it, too, was illuminated, and shone with a reflected light upon the scene. And other similar worlds appeared, each shining as the first, and beyond them and around them shone the stars, and the clouds floated about each separate ball or world, save that now they were silver tipped and golden, not dark and forbidding as before. And a^ the scene closed the veiled figure spoke : " Seeker after knowledge, Neophyte, this is hov, the worid began, beyond the ken of mortal man, ndl lions of years ago." | The scene again changed, and before them stretchy J a sandy plain, and out of the plain there spranij^ ^l tree, slowly rising heavenward. And other tret; '! arose, and far in the background a fierce flame shoi;'^' its fiery tongues upward, never ceasing. And the: veiled figure spoke : " The heat of the flame generates the seed of the tree in the warm Earth. The flame can build as \vc as destroy." And now a forest has appeared, covered wit trees and flora, and then a tiny insect, small at lirr and insignificant, is seen upon a little leaf. And thl: insect drops to Earth, and changes gradually to a| animal, a new and strange one to Adrian, not siici as are now seen upon Earth. With neither legs or ta or symmetry, it was a sluggish thing, which remainei e-:'- KAKTIf nOKN. 51 i circUni: \ star up mated i \ )rn ab()\' sailing? ii- Kited, and inc. And uiC as the shone the Daratc ball, tipped and e. And lb his is hov al man, mil;. r\ stretchcr| ■e sprang^! other treci flame shoi And thf seed of tht build as wel )vered witl small at firs^ l{. And thi dually to ai an, not sucl r legs or ta' ich reraainei itc still ; Fid j)assive for a moment until suddenly it ), ciianj;cd and l)cc;nne animal alter animal, and liiially it j^radually ^rcw to be a man, and stood fnioiiL; the fohaj^e like a wild beast, and grasped a tree for snp])ort. And the veiled fignre spoke: *' Behold, one of the children of men, how small tHe bej; inning from whence you sprang. Warmed hj^ the flame of the Earth into existence, and as yet #ithout a mind." 'And now again the scene varied, and by the side c4 the man a woman stood, fair and beautifid, and Wbund her arms about the man and kissed him, and they tenderly caressed each other and slowly :ed away into the shadowing curtain of ;,he foli- and were lost to view in the forest and the Trs. And again the veiled figur* spoke : Human love has dawned upon the Earth. Now sorrows of mankind begin." md from among the trees other beings appeared, by one, and two by two, until there was quite a of them, and mcti and women were mingling jther, when suddenly a great commotion occurred [another britchter being appeared, endowed with and reason. And he straightway^ walked to [finest looking of the women, and kissed her, and vound her arms about him, and followed him, le those she left fought among themselves at her And the veiled figure spoke : 'his is Lilith, a daughter of the Earth flame, forsook the children of men to enter a life of with Adam, a son of the /Vll Powerful Intelli- len the scene changed, and upon a barren plain, off and deserted, lay Lilith and her infant boy. 52 EARTH-IJOKX. beautiful still, but sorrowing. Loving, yet hati herself and child deserted by Adam, cast out of the heart of the man she loved, and driven forth into \]iv world, torn with the pangs of jealousy and lashed with memories of a love once dear, but now for- gotten. And the veiled figure spoke : " The first fruits of human love on Earth led to wretchedness. Beware of it, Neophyte, if thou would safely tread the path of knowledge." Once more the scene shifted, and now the skie? were black and lowering. Lightning flashed from cloud to cloud, and thunder pealed incessantly Before their gaze foamed a broad and grand ocear stretching mile upon mile along a noble coast, line , with beautiful cities, and far inland could be sect other towns. The mad ocean was lashed to fury I the violence of the storm, and hither and thither t! billows rolled 'n tumultuous confusion. The blac!.,, sky belched forth its wrath in stroke after stroke fiery flame, and seemed determined now or never if drive the grand ocean from its moorings and scatte it into space. But the waters angrily leaped skv ward at each threatening thunderbolt and strove tij drag the wrathful clouds into their foamy embrace^ It was a frightful war of the elements, an upheavr, of nature, and suddenly a glare of blinding light she over the scene, and high upon the crest of a wonder! ful wave appeared a tin)^ boat, floating over thq angry waters like a charmed thing of life whid feared not surrounding death. I Another glare shot athwart the scene in blinding brilliancy, and in the boat on the mountainous wnvi crest appeared two faces, both of women, 1 lovely, but how different. One wore upon her lie J :ing t hatir.:; )Ut of t'R h into t!i'- nd lashed now for- th led to 2, if thou ■ the skies ;hed from icessantly, ind occar :oast, lincG Id be scc! to fury byj thither 11k The blaril r stroke i Dr never t and scattcv eaped slcy d strove t y embrace^ in upheavr g light she )f a wondeil o; over thtl life whid' in blindim linous vav omen, bot| on her hcai . i;.vR'in-i50KN. 53 den crown, tippej with a blazing sun, and her face was dark and her look commanding as she bade defiance to the elements. The other was the face of the lady of the portrait, sHveet, angelic, teuiiul, entreating, and involuntarily inotti and Ad "ian uttered a cry and bounded for- rd, but at that moment the clouds dipped to the an with a fearful crash, the waves foamed and cliurned, and rose higher, and higher still, and by the fierce glare of a sudden lightning flash, it was seen that the shore, and the cities, and the grand temples, aiid the continent had disappeared beneath the nigging waters. And again the veiled figure spoke . * Lemuria, th.^ great — Lemuria, the land of the ans — has fallen to the sea, und the waters cover her. continent has disappeared with all its teeming llions of life and '^^ vvealth. But Lilith, Priestess the Sun, is saved, and with her Eve, her fair and autiful rival. Soon the}^ shall sleep to wake again ew and successive li^-es in centuries yet to come. ware of Lilith, beware of Eve. See where a hun- d centuries later they roamed, and follow them )nce more the scene changed, and now a new let, another world appeared, and by its wonderful ^s they knew that it was Saturn which floated in tee before them. Suddenly the beautiful planet jided, and a lovely valley appeared, with trees and rcrs upon the one hand, and upon the other side 1 exceedingly rough and mountainoua country, ^d with craters, and living and extinct volcanoes, " lava. And there, high upon the cone of a moun- I's peak, hand in hand, stood Lilith, wearing her )wn of the blazing sun, and Eve, sweet, tender, 54 EARTH-BORN. pleading as of old, by her side. And the watchers stood spellbound for a moment while the veiled figure again spoke : " Beware of Lilith. Beware of Eve." And the scene faded away and the curtains slowly rolled back to their places. Adrian suddenly fell forward unconscious, and his companions tenderly raised him, and themselves weak and trembling, carried him out into the circular hallway, and around and down into the main hall on the first floor, and laid him to rest on a divan, while they chafed his hands by the dim light of the star lamp, and slowly brought him back to consciousness. But Philip had • whispered to Minotti, ere he awoke : " This is surely a Balzac. Why did you not U me ? " " The curtained room could prove it to you bet J ter," was the sad reply. Adrian slowly opened his eyes, and as they resteci upon his companions, closed them again with a dee[| sigh, saying : " I thought I had found her, but you recall me 1 1 life. Let me rest here, for I am tired, so tired of alj I ever knew before," and as he spoke, he slept. And Philip and Minotti each sought repose upoc| divans close by, and for a time watched the regula| breathing of Adrian, and then they, too, fell int(j slumber. he: r^h watchers • le veiled 't ns slowly denly fell , tenderly xembling, nd around floor, and chafed his nd slowly Philip had • ou not tell :o you bet. they restec|. with a deq -ecall meti tired of alj i slept. repose upot| the regula| ,00, fell inti CHAPTER IV. THE SECRET CRYPT AND ITS OCCUPANTS. |Hour after hour vanished and still the sleepers Sttrred not, for the events of the night and morning just passed had taxed the mental strength of all. None sleep sounder than those whose minds are l^ary, for sleep is the natural restorer of mental ingth as well as physical. iut they slept not alone, for coiled beside the feet IPhilip lay a large and beautiful python, which ;r and anon raised its head and looked at the [epers, as if on guard over their slumbers. Its ;s appeared to linger curiously about Adrian, and th almost speaking intelligence in their gaze. At les the serpent seemed sorrowful, and drooped its id to the floor in apparent anguish, and then again [eyes would flash with anger, and it would gaze [und as if seeking something upon which to vent rage. But its passion would die away when it iced at Adrian's features, and again its head lid droop with sorrow. 'he sun was setting, but no ray glinted into the of the chateau, and the star lamp still shed its light over them, when Philip stirred uneasily, opened his eyes dreamily. A moment more and as iitting upright and gazi .g at the others, and jcially at the python and the sorrowful droop of ;raceful head. « What is it, Karnac? What troubles you ? " and 55 56 EARTH-BORN. im as he spoke, Philip stroked the njottled neck of the python kindly. But the serpent stirred not, and Philip soon desisted, and concluded to awake his companions, which he did with little difficulty. Adrian arose from the divan, looked wonderingly about for a moment, and then said : "Ah, I remember. We are in the chateau. I thought we had all gone to search for the lost into an- other world, but we are still here, and it was a dream, nothing more, but — heavens ! — what is this ? " and he gazed wonderingly at the python, which now had raised its head and was looking him full in the face. " It is nothing but Karnac, an old friend of the Balzacs, since it is said he was here a generation ago, and came from Asia with your great ancestor,^ Leo Balzac, half a century since. Have no fear of him. A more faithful servitor the Balzacs never knew. I am surprised that he is here, however, a: his place is usually at the foot of the sarcophagus." " Ah, yes, the sarcophagus. Let us visit it at once, cried Adrian. " I must see the bodies of my father and of her — my mother. When shall Ave start ? " " As soon as you please," said Minotti, " but fir: let us eat after our long fast, for if I am not mi taken, the day is past and night is at hand," and hf looked at his timepiece as he spoke. '' True, we have fasted, and should eat, but my in: patience scarcely can await the ending of the mea! So let us hasten and finish it. Then to the sa: cophagus," cried Adrian. " Aye, then to the sarcophagus," rejoined Minott ^i>*|arn| Philip led the way, and soon they reached a sina ^^Y " ante chamber, dimly lighted with a swinging lam; I'ARTII-BORN. 57 k of the [lot, and vake his Ity. .deringly ateau. 1 it into an- 5 a dream, bis ? " and hich now :uU in the 3nd of the generati(3n t ancestor no fear oi Izacs never, lowefver, a^|| ophagus." ^ it at once " )f my fathe: e start ? " :i, '' but fe im not mil nd," and h^ 1 , but my iiT^ of the mea to the sai ined Minoti iched a smai inging nd from a massive sideboard, wine, fruit, meat and cakes were taken. Soon a meal was temptingly spread before the three, and they sat hungrily down to satiate the cravings of animal nature. The meal JKrogTessed in silence, until Adrian suddenly turned ms head and said : " Tell me, Minotti, why does the python follow us? See, chere he is, and strangely enough, is watching me closely." Minotti turned, looked at the serpent, and then gave Philip a glance full of meaning, as much as to say : " You see, another proof." Turning to Adrian he simply said : J Karnac admits your superiority, that is all. With you can do as you will. He has been free for rs, since Count Balzac entered upon his ?ast ex- Hment, but now he is again a subject of the Balzac uence." * What mean you, Minotti ? Have I this influence hout exercising it." No. You do exercise it, but not knowingly. ny do likewise. You probably could not control ry serpent without exercising your gift more, Karnac has been so accustomed to it in the past, he feels it more readily now, and your simple encc tells him he is again in the influence of his ten If you will it, he will leave you or stay you, or will enter fire or water for you. If in er from physical sources, and his power could yot, will it, and he will surmount any difficulty ible to reach your enemy. Faithful unto death Urnac to you now, as he has been to your race. y have cared kindly for him. Do you the same." [aiiifcS'?^^ t^^ first time Adrian regarded the python 58 EARTH-BORN. m with interest, and noted its graceful beauty and ap- parent strength. It was quite a large one of its kind, and apparently some twenty feet in length. A powerful protector, at times, it would seem, if neces sary. ** Karnac knows you well, M. Hauton?" queried Adrian. " Very well, for years," replied Philip. " Call him to you, I would examine him more closely," said Adrian. Philip softl}' whistled, but the python stirred not. Then he called, " Karnac, Karnac," but still no an- swering movement. "Your power is complete, M. Courcey. Karnac would not thus treat me, unless you willed it," and Philip seemed a trifle hurt. Adrian quickly repeated Philip's whistle call, and I before its sound had died away the python was at! his side, while Philip said : " There is no need for 3^ou to call him by whist- ling. Simply will it, he will come. With me tliej call Avas necessary. With you the wish is sufficient. Karnac is your absolute slave. He was only myi friend, and friendship counts for naught beside thcj power you exercise over him. If you shoiild will it so, he would encircle me, his friend for years, in hi^| close embrace and crush me without compunctioiij If you have never known what it is to be an absohitej master, you know it now, so far as Karnac is con! cerned at least." ** • The python lowered its head and seemingly fell asleep by Adrian's side, its eyes closing, and its gen- eral attitude one of rest and quiet. " How powerfii| a protector it would be in time of need," thought}^ EAkTIIBOkN. 59 Adrian, as Jiis eyes dwelt upon the strong and mus- cular proportions trailing- upon the floor. " Tell, me," he said aloud, after his survey, "has Karnac been put to the test, and his powers tried in defense of our race ^ " " Several times," rejoined Philip. " Notice the [scar along his body, seemingly a rut that is healed. [That was dealt him by a vicious s^vord thrust, which [well nigh ended his existence, but he would not 'ield, and finally wound his folds about the man and nushed him to death. That man was one of the inemies of your house, and had entered the chateau It night to murder Count Balzac, it was supposed. \c that as it may, his body was found next morning, ind by it lay Karnac sorely wounded. Possibly >ad it not been for the wound, the man's body might [ave been swallowed by the python. As it was, le bones were broken and the body crushed out all semblance to the original man." ^** Who was this man?" queried Adrian. " He was a charlatan by practice, a Brahmin out- >t by the force of circumstances, and a daring, igerous adept in reality." [* Why did he desire to kill the Count? " Partially for revenge, and some think he had an- ler motive," slowly answered Philip, as his eyes ight his plate. I* And what was this other motive ? " queried Irian. Be not angry, Adrian," interrupted Minotti, id I will tell you what Philip and I know. His icipal motive was love for the Countess," and lotti's eyelids dropped, for he felt Adrian's hot ince upon him as he spoke. 6o EAKTII-noRN. i^; " Did all who saw her love h».r, then, evfen this barbarian," cried Adrian, angrily. '* No. Not all, M. Courcey," said Philip, sadly, " but many paid her that compliment unavoidably, though wishing otherwise. As for him, he was not a barbarian, but a deep and learned man, and so much the more dangerous." " When did this occur?" said Adrian. " More than twenty-five years ago," answered Philip. " I should have thought he would have known better than to enter the chateau at night, and Karnac about," mused Adrian. " He had power over serpents himself, and prob- ably thought he could control Karnac. But it is well he could not," and MInotti set his teeth sternly together as he spoke. " But come, the meal is fin- ished, and now let us explore the sarcophagus, and the pyrar id where it rests. Lead on, Philip, and re- member that the true heir of the Balzac race follows you." Phillip arose, went to a panel in the wall, pressed a spring, and brought forth first a censer, and then . a curious lamp, evidently of Egyptian origin, for it represented the sacred crocodile, in miniature, its body forming the cup, and from its mouth the flame^ appeared, Philip lighting the wick. Then he arose,| and simply saying : " Follow me carefully," he led the way out into' the hall, and stopped suddenly before an open panel. " Ah, so this is how Karnac came," he caid, and^^tenni then he glided into the recess, and bade the other; ;, *F(,J follow him. t#the| KARTH-nokN'. 6l p, sadly, voidably, was not a so much answered ^e known nd Karnac , and prob- But it is eth sternly meal is fin- rus, and the ip, and re- ace folio v,:^ all, pressed -r, and then rigm. for it iniature, it« th the flame' en he arose ay out into re an open he *^aid, and'*-^ ie the others! They stepped to his side, and found themselves in small chamber, at one end of which an open door iscloscd a flight of winding stone steps which seemed to end in total darknes". in the depths below. . Philip again bade them be careful, and lighting 'fte incense in the censer, swung it in one hand while h' hcadSh who would dare all in pursuit of an idea. His (!;!> moustache lay curling over his mouth, as if to shie >ij its sternness and its strength. His sinewy form posed naturally and restfully, as though sluni'.K had set her seal upon it lightly, and its owner lam awake at any moment. His eyes were closed, ?ii\ one almost expected to see them open, and t' Count arise at once for action in the busy scenes life. One hand was carelessly thrown across other, and the spotless cuffs shone white and cl against his jet black suit, while his dark locks lay negligent confusion upon the blue satin pillow, rj strong contrast to the golden and beautiful hair (Hy.^el his wife. The complexion and color were lifelike $i^|(|r( a startling degree, and the whole aspect of the t gfl*' figures seemed to thoroughly impress Adri?.n v\ »il< slumber, not with death. p Minotti slowly advanced and stood gazing at scene, emotions of love and hate playing alternatd over his usually mobile, self-contained countenanc EAKT1I-1U)UN. 65 (led figure |B| xhc same," he muttered, ** just the same. When in the iM';''* 'I^ it end?" lunj;' as ca; jldriim started from his rapt attention at the ther thiol, '^ords, and ^azed awe-stricken at the speaker. Then er. The 1, he turned to PhiUp, who with a concentrated gaze )ceped f^o ol love and sorrow was regarding the Countess. , and the v ggddenly Minotti exclaimed : e, charnun. <«| ^jH awaken her, I must see her once again imbcr. alive. This is torture unbearable, " and he sprang featured, la step forward and raised one of the hands of the LS if the 1'^ Countess to his lips. e he went ; Pq|. ^ moment Adrian turned white with rage, and of charac; his eyes flai.hcd as he drew back to strike the grey cnt over the uplifted hand. But Philip his arm in a grip of iron, and fairly hissed : Id ! Remember where you are, and who he is. but for he and I what would become of them." ker, of a w^h ea. His (la as if to sbic newy fornvT pugh slurar Aqrian's temper was up, and he struggled to free 5 owner rnii; re closed, ai. pen, and t' busy scenes ha ■/n across hlte and ck; rk locks lay 5; atin pillov;,r( utiful hair illy were lifelil^'- ectof thcti [ss Adri^in vv»i e Id gazing at m from Philip's grasp, but it was useless. his arms were gripped by Philip, and he was st, while Minotti's head was still bowed over licatc hand of the beautiful sleeper, enly Adrian's gaze became riveted upon , his struggles with Philip ceased, and half in half in joy, he willed the python to try his h with Minotti. The great serpent grace- eyed the secret command, and the next in- ound himself about the H^ibs of the seem- nconscious man. Round and round he nd now his length has well-nigh encircled s of the priest, and his eyes are snapping usly previous tf^ giving a final deadly hug, mo- alternaMeft Philip cried : d countenanc '^Ve Minotti ! He is not himself, but entranced ! " 5 " if t^ EARTH-BORN. And not a moment too soon Adrian willed thfi python to desist, and as he slowly unwound hi length from Minotti's form, and slid to the floo Philip released Adrian, jumped forward and caugf \^i Minotti, carefully and reverently took the hand f gj^ji the Countess, and laid it beside her, and turned t^ t^ij. priest's face toward Adrian and the light. The: *#j^ was no sign of intelligence in the glassy, staring eye t^^ and the pliant limbs appeared to obey only the n \^b^^ i tion given to them by Philip. JNIinotti was inde; a^«r entranced, or his reason had fled. Which ? 0^» Philip and Adrian at this unexpected catastrop staltca looked terrified each at the other, and ther c^a? alsiiiid around, seeking the cause. On the floor lay Karnac, blinking lazily. Aitv them the dark curtains hung as before. Beside ri lay that elegant sarcophagus, and pictured clc; against its satin lining reclined the figures of Count and CounteES» Seemingly there was no caj for Minotti's condition, and yet his body was ?j ported by Philip, as pliable as that of the Count li| self, and with as little animation. What was the cause ? Suddenly Philip uttered an exclamation, and t3i fully laying the body of Minotti down, felt for pulse. There was none. Next he felt for the i. ing of the heart. It had ceased. Very quietly P';?! arose, and gazed upon the body. After a if scrutiny, during which time Adrian seemed stiiiii Philip looked again carefully upon the recli;v< bodies in the sarcophagies. '*Ah," he exclaimed, and reaching down, he rajw^i Minotti's hand which had held that of the Cou!i< In it lay the vinaigrette, but seemingly closed. jM^ li H" I EARTlI-BORN\ 67 willed th' iwound li ^\^ vinaigrette he looked carefully at it. It was not y the flo(j J open, but a pungent odor left the impression that it and caiigi j^^ \yQQn closed but a few moments, at most. Philip :he hand ( p«iuketed the article, and reverently covered the turned tl bodies with the veiling. Then he said: ght. The: "Count Balzac, take the censer and the lamp, staring eye L^ on, and I will follow with Minotti. We must only the n lein^^e here ere the incense is exhausted, or I will not i was indet aiKNrer for the result. One has met with misfortune, ich? Ol^rs may before we reach the top of the secret I catastrop: st^tcase. Let us hasten, for the spirit of evil seems d ther gay abi^d to-night." ^ d suiting the action to the words, he gathered ert form of Minotti in his strong arms, and n mechanically took the lamp and censer, and ut another look, they left the chamber, reached ocky passage, and then the aperture. Adrian ^assisted Philip to descend wita the body to the f the ladder, and they stood at the bottom of iral staircase a few seconds later. Here the difficult part began, for Minotti was no light n, and strong as he was, Philip had to rest few steps, and take breath. y took turns at carrying Minotti's body, but it Bow work, and ere they reached the top it was the incense and the light might both become ted. On they toiled, working manfully, tl.e ation dripping from every pore, and still they r from the top. n we but put the secret panel between us and down, he 1 Ij^^^b ^^^ the incense burns out, all will be well," f the Coun'fljpi Philip, as he struggled upward with his bur- rly closed. zily. Am- . Beside ti ctured cle;; figures d e was 'no a\ body was he Count lii ition, and c3' ^rn, felt fc^r > It for the f quietly V ?^ After a if eemed stiivet the recllv( ^:i 6S KAKTII-BOUN. " But already it begins to grow fainter in tr censer," cried Adrian, as he swung it upon his arr and grasping Minotti with his free hand, step • step they toiled up the rocky stairs. Would they never end ? Was this turning, spi: dungeon, this winding, snake-like — "Ah," gasped Adrian, and he willed Karnac appear. And soon below them, while the incense gn faint in the censer, they could hear the rustle i swish of the coming python. Closer and closer c: , the serpent, nearer and nearer sounded his comi i| and fainter and fainter grew the smoke of the ince .J in the censer. Soon Karnac's head appeared am the curve, and now he is beside them. Suddenlv stopped, and at Adrian's suggestion the pri girdle was put into Karnac's mouth, and as he ra the body clear of the steps, the two companion sisted the powerful python in carrying it, together they mounted the stairway, and were at the entrance, and the secret panel. But nonej early, for as they reached it the incense diedaj in the censer, and a ringing voice just behind t exclaimed : " Once again, Karnac, have you defeated 'i Dhur, but it will not always be thus." And a mocking laugh echoed and re-echoed the rock-hewn stairs, and finally died away i' distance below. The secret panel was finally shut, and with. ing breath and pale faces, Philip and Adrian ^ into each other's eyes, by the pale light of th f tian lamp. i« t fgaiii ittliecl Itr n,m inter in tj pon his an and, step ; urning, spi: ed Karnac incense gn the rustle a- nd closer c Led his C()rai;g e of the inctf ppeared arot 1. Suddenh on the prii and as he rai , companion; arrying it, and were i But nont cense diecU ust behind t 3U defe-Aled s. d re-echoed c died away iw Lit, and witb . and Adrian ^ light of the t CHAPTER V. THE SHADOWS GATHER ROUND THE SEARCHERS. "Who is Lai Dhur?" asked Adrian with a shiver. " He is the Brahmin outcast priest, whom Karnac stroyed," answered Philip, shuddering^ visibly,' nd I fear now that this is his handiwork," pointing the prostrate form of Minotti, which by this time they had raised upon a divan close at hand. , " But he has been dead for twenty-five years," sped Adrian. " Yes, his mortal body died then, but his revenge- 1 spirit lives on and on. Being remarkably wicked, d naturally belonging to the baser elements of ture, his base spirit clings to Earth instead of soaring the higher fields beyond where spirits of greater, bier aspirations go. He loved life here, not existence ireafter, and as he was an outcast here from the ter class of humanity, so he is an outcast thci : from better spirits, and wanders back to Earth." ^^ And what hr.s he done to Minotti to-night ?" q^ried Adrian, aghast. ;.;f^* That I know not. Since he could do no bodily Iprm save by impressing others to do it, I judge he *' "' ressed Minotti to inhale the contents of the igrette, when he held the Countess' hand. He have impressed him to first take the hand, I then impressed you to anger and to use Karnac ' Hg^inst Minotti. It would have been sweet revenge itidecd for Lai Dhur to know that Minotti perished 69 ;o EARTH-BORN. in the same pythonic embrace that crushed himself, and have been there to see it. " You speak as though he could see, as mortals do, and feel as mortals feel. That he could hate, or love, be revenged, or satisfied, as we are." " And so he can. It is the spirit which feels, sees, loves, hares, and not the body, and the death of tlie body simply sets the spirit free, but does not change it in any other respect." Meanwhile thfiy placed Minotti's inert body upon a divan in the main hallway, and were endeavorinij^ to restore some animation to the pliant limbs by rub- bing them briskly. It was, however, to no purpose, and they soon desisted. " There is one sure way to discover what is best to be done," said Philip, slowly, " and only one that I know of." "What is that way?" answei^ed Adrian, "let try it at once." " It is to consult the veiled oracle in the curtained | chamber," repHed Philip. " Think you the figure could tell ? " wonderinglv asked Adrian. " Aye. For long years it has told your race the most hidden secrets, and tradition has it that this same figure told the Pharaohs of Egypt events of the past and future, thousands of years ago, in the grand temple of Isis, at Thebes. Also, that it stood in the Serapeum, at Alexandria, in a later age, audi was daily consulte.d by the priests of Serapis there, It is a wonderful figure, and strangely enough, gives nothing at all to the many, and everything to a few of those who seem to possess a certain power or attraction for it." us V'!'^ f^ EARTH-BORN. 71 himself, >rtals u( ), , or love, :els, sees, th of the )t change ody upon ieavoring bs by rub- ) purpose, at is best \f one that « Dnderingly Lir race the t that this events ol ago, in the lat it stood er age, and ■apis there, Dugh, gives icr to a few n power 01 And do you possess that power ? " queried nan. % Ad " No, but you do, as has been proven," replied Philip. The figure has been as silent as any carved image ever since your father's absence. Neither • Minotti or myself have been able to extract a sound irom it, or obtain anythmg whatever in the cur- tained chamber. But you can, at will." " Have you then tried and failed to get any results, ind Minotti, too?" . "Yes, but finally w^e gave it up, and until you Entered it, the curtained chamber has not been visited for fifteen years, at least." " Plow strange," mused Adrian. " Have you ever Kamined this figure }** ' " Yes, and had it apart. It is nothing but a hand-' iomely executed ebony figure of the veiled Isis. A annikin, which some master sculptor or artisan of reat skill has carved. It has organs of speech, of earing, of sight, fashioned minutely after those of an, but that is all. It of course has no digestive r life giving organs, as it needs none. It can talk, §rhen properly controlled, and by the right person, n evidently see and hear also. It is said that tho irit of Mizraim endows it with prophetic powers, ^d that this spirit awakens only to those few who properly arc re-incarnations of Mizraim's family." " Where was this wonderful figure found, and how me it in possession of our race?" inquired Adrian. "It is a long story, but the simple facts are that it 1|as buried in a cave, with the hieroglyphic of the Jj^oyal House of Ra inscribed upon it, and on the ^ummy cases around it. This cave v/as finally dis- -v^ppvercd b^ wandering Arabs, near the Ramesseum, 72 EARTH-BORN. i "i; at Thebes. The figure and its value were unknown for years, and it passed through many hands, bein^ )]d iply wonderful piece of sold and resoJa sim] mechanism and a curiosity. " Finally it fell into the hands of Lai Dhur, who discovered its worth, its purpose, and spent several years in tracing the image, deciphering its hiero- glyphics and locating its age. He sold it to the Brahmins of Bombay, who placed it in the old cave temple of Karli, as an oracle, and then, as he alone could elicit responses from it, he was elected to remain with it as the highest priest. He stole it, and fled, after being detected in using his knowl- edge for evil ends, and then fell in with your father at Damascus, and sold it to him. Doubtless he in- tended to steal and resell it, had not his career been cut short by Karnac. " He called the figure Tuaa, saild it had been made by the early priests of Egypt as an oracle for their famous secret order, and that it represented Isis, but i descending to Rameses II., the Great Pharaoh, he called it Tuaa, in honor of his royal mother. He also said that owing to special prayers offered bv the priests, Mizraim's spirit had descended upon it,h and it became an oracle when one of Mizraim's de- scendants awoke the latent spirit. This is the nucleus of the story of the veiled image of Isis in the curtained chamber." " Let us then return to the chamber at once, " cried Adrian, "and solve this mystery surrounding Minotti if possible." " First let me tell you that the curtained chambei is directly over the <^omb you visited, that the figun stands immediately above the apex of the pyramk! ■Mn tJi^pc Count Ditur filled. ^' H: EAUTII-I50RN. 73 inknown ds, bein^r piece of hur, who it several ' Xs hiero- it to the ; old cave i he alone ;lected to e stole it, lis knowl- )iir father fiess he in- \reer been been made ie for their d Isis, but haraoh, he Dther. He ofi'ered by d upon ill zraim's dt- his is the of Isis in at once," arrounding d chambei t the liguu e pyramu' and that there is a secret connection between it and the tomb. So the influences that may be at work in the depths below, have communication directly with the curtained chamber above. Should we visit there now, with the evil influence of Lai Dhur fully 'Aroused, some catastrophe may overtake us, as it has 'l^'Iinotti. I simply warn you to beware, that is all, ^i visiting the curtained chamber." '■' V'" '* But what of the bodies below ? Are they at the feercy of Lai Dhur ? " queried Adrian, with anxiety %i every tone. I " They are safe from all such evil shades. How- er powerful they are over others, no impression n be pT*oduced upon the Count and Countess. ey are protected doubly, and though the shades ay flock around the standard of Lai Dhur by ousands, still they cannot impress or bring harm those upon Avhose resting place has been set the al of King Solomon, and one of whom in life was a e follower of the Rosy Cross, f" And did not Minotti follow the teachinsrs of the sicrucians ? " * Yes, in part, but failed when it came to the su- me test. Though a learned man, and a great one, Inotti could never reach the heights attained by C6unt Jules Balzac. Consequently he suffers, and imself controlled at times by those he would com- nd. Had it been otherwise, he would not now ;lying here before us, but masterful, and defying 'r power of the impotent Linga Sharira, as did the nt. For previous to his last experiment Lai r tried his powers often upon the Count and f^ed." k^' Has he tried them upon you ?" questioned Adrian. m^ 74 EARTH-BOR>:. " At times, but not so far successfully,'* answered Philip, his eyes gleaming and his lips closing with a firmer set. '' How soon I may be overcome c;in. not be told. Surely not so long as I guard the bodies faithfully, and employ the proper means of resist- ance." " And those means. What are they ?" queried Adrian earnestly. " A firm >\V'y t > be^li: .vilh, which de'es the power of those who woikl rurts'er the spirit ; and secondly knowledge by whoui an- how the influences are directed against me, and the use of preventives, sud for instance, as the incense you saw me burn in the censer. " But come, let us fathom the trance of Minotti ■ and the power which threw him into it. Come t( ' the curtained chamber," And Philip picked up the censer, went to the recesi where he first obtained it, filled it with incense, the lamp, swung them both before him, and stooi before Adrian, his dark eyes flashing, and his de| meanor one of defiance to all, known and unknown, " Are you ready ? " he cried. " Aye," bravely answered Adrian. " Let us go t the chamber, and at once." Carefully arranging the body of Minotti upon tli divan, and with one last look to see that all was sa: below, they mounted once more the noble stairwai and were soon at the entrance of the chambei Here Philip lit the incense, and they entered. The chamber was as dark and forbidding as bi fore. Nothing save the black curtains, the pedest: and the veiled figure were to be seen, and the ra of the lamp and the delicate smoke of the inccr; EARTH-BORN. 75 y,' answered I losing with a /^ercome c;in- rd the bodies 2ans of resist ;y ?" queried ' es the power and secondly nfluences are ^^entives, sucl^^ le burn in tht :e of Minotti it. Come tc| it to the recesi ith incense, li*', lim, and stooi.^ g, and his dt ind unknown, „ ;med to softly and carefully steal over the apart- icnt, as though partaking of the dread anxiety of the >ur. )Sudder , without ?. flicker, and a? if snuffed by Jliiman h.t d, the light went out, and they wrre in total darl-' less, while from around Jie figure and Ipiemingl', far jclow, they coidd hear a sound as ,.1 a coming storm a*? it ises through the pine clad u Let us go t inotti upon tli lat all was sa! loble stairwa) the chambe; entered, bidding as bt IS, the pedest: n, and the ray of the incor; est. The sough of the wind as it rose and fell through tl^e pine cones and needles, the sudden swish of an ai^ry breath, as it impatiently awaited the coming ts master, the rising tempest, and the low lullaby Ij]! the tenderer breeze seemed painfully near, as ilip clutched his companion's hand, and whis- Ired : As I feared, Lai Dhur and his minions are abroad night in full company. We should not have ven- rcd here till they had subsided and scattered to i winds of forgetfulness from whence they came, e very air is thick with their dread influence. I 1 it slowly, gradually descending upon us like a I of death. It will be a test of strength this hour, I am mistaken. Do not stir, but bend your will one end. and that defiance to all, come those who n^y. They would enthrall your senses, drive your j^nd forth from its home, and wreck your chance futurity if possible, sending your spirit forth to nder o'er this Earth as theirs, without the power rise above it into higher spheres." ^Kcarer and nearer came the rush of the storm. It Sfemed to be gradually changing into a furious gale ai it approached the chamber, and Adrian could dis- tinctly feel the rocky floor tremble at its coming. 76 EARTH-IJOkN. " Be brave, and fear not," whispered Philip. " Stand where you are, I will be with you in a moment," and his hand loosed tHat of Adrian, who could feci that his companion was moving near him in the darkness. A moment more, and Philip again clasped his hand, and whispered : " If the worst comes to the worst, we still are safe, so fear not." A cold breath swept across their faces, and with a crash as of^a falling monarch of the forest, the storm broke. The wind swept and eddied about them, and tug;ged and pulled as if to draw them into its cyclonic embrace. The floor rocked beneath their feet, and it seemed the hurricane would sweep every stone of the chateau from its foundation, as it hurtled around them in ever increasing violence. But braced against each other firmly they bade defiance to the influence, and while it raged about them, still they stood their ground unmolested and unhurt. Theii from out the fury of the gale Lai Dhur's voice rang clear and loud : " Cursed be all the Balzac race, the tree, the plant and the sprig. Cursed be Minotti, cursed be all." And wild laughter, as from a hundred throats echoed and re-echoed through the room. Over and around and about them it pealed, harsh and discord- ant, above the rush of the tempest, above the howl- ing of the wind. A cold hand descended upon Adrian's head, and the voice said : *' As I am doomed to wander here. Nirvana ever distant, so shalt thou. Pursue thy research. It sha' lead thee not to Eve, but me." " And who art thou ? " boldl}^ answered Adrian. ** I am he from whbm the first of Earthly evi t$kes ^u^ **Wh lied EAKTII-BORX. " Stand loment," )uld feci in the clasped are safe, d with a be storm lem, and cyclonic feet, and ry stone hurtled it braced :e to the ;till they t. Then )ice rang the plant »e all." throats. )ver and discord- he howl- ed upon ana ever It shal Adrian, hly evi ) lcanoes rend the weary and tumultuous rocks for aj^es, till such time as higher elements gain control and fit this chaos for a future race." It was the veiled image which spoke. 4 And where is this Land of Flame, O Tuaa ? " cried Adrian. " Can we not seek him there ? " ♦*The Land of Flame is Mars, the planet circling next outside the orbit of our Earth. This is but the middle ground for minds which penetrate the deeps ol^ipace and reach the distant spheres. They can- linger here. Those who have not power to ure farther, soon return to Devachan, and wait ture age to re-appear, unless by chance they meet ronger mind returning to this Earth, and they y follow back at once. For those who reach but rs can ne'er return save but by help or Devachan." How came he there, when but an hour ago he d with us?" queried Adrian. He took from Eve the drop which sent his spirit its way. That final drop of knowledge which the spirit free from cloying matter, and sends it h untrammeled in the great, wide Universe be- d. Had he but been prepared, it would have led swiftly to her side, where loyal love would lead . But he fell short, and could not reach her. love o'erreached his knowledge as before." Then he has visited the Land of Flame at other ^rtibes than this ? " wondenngly questioned Adrian. 1 ** Three times has Minotti's spirit ventured here, $kd then returned to Earth through stronger minds," lied the image. Is So LARTII-IiOUX. OSCi %)rc. stays ' "I and s will reap not destrc •'And whose power then returned him?" ques. tioned Adrian. " She returned with him, Eve. He could not reach 1 er side, and so she came to his, and led hi- spirit back to duties here yet unfulfilled." " Then she may help him now," exclaimed Adrian in tones of relief. " She may, and will, if he is not called to Di. vachan before she reaches him," " And what can we do, then?" exclaimed Adriar, sadly. , , '* Naught but hope. Were you better versed inW arrive knowledge, you might save him. Now you coulc is it w but reach his side, and share his misery. Care for may b his body, keep it from harm, ana soon he may re- ,^ #fN(; turn to claim it. If not, then rest content, fo: ^, dn^m nature's lav/s have been obeyed, and he has sunL^jiiiii-ica to rest in De vachan." " Tell us, O ! Tuaa, will he not return ? Thy power should tell us, if thou will," pleaded Adrian earnest- ly, forgetful of all else in his desire to be assured oi Minotti's return to Earth. " The laws which govern prophecy in Tuaa are governed by the laws which hold supremacy o'er those "vho awake the dormant spirit within me, Were thou infallible, then so would I be. Clearer insight, gained by clairvoyance, opens the door ot^hat wl futurity to me with certainty, but only when the en- nobled spirit commands supreme o'er all warring j| powers. ** Learn to master thyself in all things, and thoui., may fully master the power of prophecy within me. But as mortal man errs in prophecy for lack of knowledge, so may Tuaa, when questioned bjpVOtk c e ] i( uc ** I Ci •m i:i liilii;: EARTH-HORX. 8t m?" qiics could not and led hi; r versed in : you could ■. Care for he may re :ontent, fo: le has sunk Thy power •ian earnest assured o; Tuaa are remacy o'er within me, le. Clearer he door dM then the en-f lU warring >, and thou lecy w^ it hi 11 for lack ot Istioned by those who understand not the laws of nature to their core." " Then you cannot tell us whether he returns or stays, OI Tuaa?" questioned Adrian. " I can tell you that the law of love, both human d spiritual, would lead him back to Earth, and he 11 come if h)ve can help him. '^* Man plants the seed and prophesies that he will reap the harvest in the future, if nature's laws are ^t molested. The drouth may kill, the worm destroy, the sun dry up the plant, ere harvest time arrives, and nature's first law could be fulfilled. So is it with the subtler laws which I perceive. They majr be swerved by opposing forces. *^Not a thought of man, or wish, or memory, or dream, but owes its origin to subtle laws, too indicate for ordinary minds to penetrate. They are )wn to the spirit within me. iWhat law governs the passions of man, stirs his it to hate, or bends it to a dream of love ? What gives one human a grand mind, and another iij^nity ? What law makes one religious and another cKipelieving, one kind, another cruel? There are tails for all, for the life giving principle itself, and alt^hese laws can be swerved by other laws, in time, 'brought to naught. The hating man may love which he hated, the loving hate that which he The sane mind may become insane, the e mind gain sanity. The religious may turn to disWief, the disbelieving to religion. The kind may be#ucl, the cruel kind. Thus is the mortal swayed by different laws in this changing mortal world. ** I can but say that Minotti will return if forces at wotk can help him. I see those forces, and more I 1 ! 82 EARTH-BORN. cannot tell until such time as questioned by a mindl whose scope embraces greater limits than thine." The voice ceased, the tassel dropped from Adrian's hand, the curtains rolled over the scene, and once more they were in total darkness, with nothing bui the faint incense arising from the censer to reininr them that they stood in the curtained chamber. As they stood, over them slowly crept an indefin able dread of something unhallowed and intangible but fearfully present. What it was they could m fathom, but it oppressed them like an incubus, unti fight against it as they would, it seemed that it mii; overpower them in the end, and draw the very li: essence from their beating, throbbing brains. In the black darkness of that awful chamber, w\\i round them reigned the silence of the tomb, eat struggled bravely with the overpowering feelioj and bent their wills to conquer it with all the wij power at command. They felt it would not do fail then, and yet it seemed the influence wou surely overpow r them. Like the drowning wretch who feels his he: swim, and his lungs fill with the cruel water, tl soon shall be his winding sheet, and yet is unable \ help himself. Like the dreamer, whose restful slumber is change Wx^ to horror by the nameless terror of the enthralli. /Jg|^r>f nightmare, who would cry out but cannot. AlHierf* Like the charmed man, who in dumb agony, st y^ r by step advances towards the fascinating eyes oft tl^^in mesmeric, poisonous serpent, and knows his doom these sealed, yet cannot resist — so stood the two, \viiti |||Qg.gj. round and about them gathered the horrible shado .'j^^^,^j of soul terrifying power. ^^ He 1( c EAUTII-nORN. 83 by a mind 1 thine." )m Adrian'v i, and once lothing bui r to remiiv amber. t an indefii i intangible ;y could nr icubus, unti that it mu; the very li; •ains. amber, whi 3 tomb, eat sring feelii: [1 all the ^v Id not do; uence wou jels his bed! 1 water, tli; t is unable ; And now, from out the black shadow it seemed liiat f jruis slowly appeared to view, forms without l^mmetry, and misshapen, deviHsh in their mdignity, Ulihoiy. and not of man, but of remnants, patched fttom tlic castaways of the Universe. Some were without bodies, some without limbs ; all were horri- ble to gaze upon. Here a headless trunk trundled a#kwardly about, there an armless hand waved menacingly toward them, and again there glared tfie hideous features of some Hell-born monstrosity of evil. Round and round they circled, in a never ending tr^n of horrors, gradually closing nearer and nearer tQl^he two friends, as fresh additions joined the cir- cli|lg throng. It seemed that human brain could jfid no more, when Philip bravely cried : Back to your haunts, foul relics of the lower side nature ! Back ! You cannot harm us, even here !" ut the eddying throng swept on as before. Round round they went, and round and round the two nds turned to watch them, horribly fascinated. denly the throng stopped, and Lai Dhur's voice loud and clear again : ons of men, what think you of the nameless ies, the Terrene throng, born like yourselves, of 3er IS changtp.^;,^an ? Know that the passions of man, since first le enthrallii^gUgption brought evil Cain into the world, have not. Mill^ered these with regularity. Aye, man, of whom lb agony, s^'S|fd|t boast that he is made in God's own image, man ng eyes of tythie' intelligent, nian the great, has brought forth vs his doomflK^^e. Higher than the highest of his kind, yet le two, wi Jasper than the lowest of his animal race, is the rible shadt abfiJial man. T^ He who would cross the threshold of the Uni- 84 EARTH-BORN. verse, must battle first with these, who cling unre.. pentant to that world which brought them forth "^"^^'^ Think not to escape them. The shadow of the'^^l^^ ^ Earth-Born falls upon you as I speak. Look ! B^ ,, , . '^° hold!- . ^^'"J^ With staring eyes they gazed, while the shadow; . seemed to deepen around them and the air became y more oppressive. Slowly, but surely, a faint outline 11 ? r began to define itself against the black darknesso:;. ., ., that awful chamber, while the Terrene circle closcc^ ,, around them. Gradually the luminous, shadows ^^ ^, , outline assumed proportions distinct and terribk and towering above them in the darkness they sav j \ a new and strangely awful figure, lacking the pic x-^ portions of man or beast. With neither symmet:.„«^i4!.,. cal head or body, it appeared to move like the w^j tj|p^(- vering flame in the whirling windstorm, oi" ^s tbjjj-^^f ^-j, sands of the desert in the terrible cyclciie. It ^vVj^^g^ p made up of luminous particles, each whirling rour;ap.j|Mf.c/ and round with inconceivable rapidity, and as tht^^Bg^j- gazed upward they could see far above them ^i^lHKinc the figure grew manlike toward the top, and out (§^Smi I its misshapen trunk, two wavering offshoots slowl ow>'* n \v formed and stretched forth far and wide as thoui: T^lfedc to claim the world. id nel^re Like a pillar of light in the darkness, crowned witonibfe h a massive head of huge proportions, stony, stariii;cinny- re fearfully unfathomable eyes, and sphinx-like countrea^i# thj nance, unreadable, unknowable, dreadful to g:i " upon, yet grand and awful in its every part, so hgly <|iies fore t.l.eni shone this wonderful figure, and all t' "Each Eartli ' 'orn throng paled in comparison to it, ai|pulse f faded ^ivvay like the fo',, before the sunlight. ' an evil Au they stood tremblini?, unable to resist the fell 1^ s^e I c KAKTH-BORN. h cling unre.| them forth, iow of the Look ! B^ gazing fascinated at the strangely awful iguris, from the midst of it came these words: " Behold Tcrrasal, the spirit of Earth, who rules -'I things terrestrial since first this world took shape. Jorn with it in tliC midst of nebulous chaos — ever •resent in its molten fire-fight with the elements — uling still e'er all its materiality — I have been ailed from my home in the flame-lit depths of the darkness 0;.^^j^ to you. Nothing mortal e'er escapes me. he shado\vi air became faint outline :ircle closet)^^ ^jl j is, shadow- reign supreme. " The kings of the Earth spring from and return md teriibk^ ^^^ rj,^^ cities of the world rear their proud ;ss they savg^^g j.Q^^,,^j.j ^1^^ sky, and crumble in the dust at mg the puvjy fg^^ 'Pl-jg j-aces of men arise in might, and are ir symmcti^gpljH^^y ^j^^j |Qc,t 'm «ny bosom. The continents like the wif ^^^ world and its oceans are mine to command, -m. or as tr'jjj.^0|; times have I deluged the Earth with its Cxie. It ^v^ratej^ For ages was it cleansed with my fires. You lirling i"oura;nM| escape me. When I want you, I will call." , and as the jIMstrange voice ceased, and standing there in 'c them tm^p»|inous glow, while over them bent the incar- ), and out iatf^R)f Earth, they felt their remaining courage ebb hoots sIowIqw^ away. e as thoiig^|§^ddying throng reappeared, and drew nearer id iSefcrer, and the terrible faces leered at them, the :rowned witorrible hands clutched at their garments, and the tony, starin:|iiin'^; repulsive arms sought to embrace them to x-like counirca^tl that were not visible. " ' iful to g:. " H«tw like you my Earth-Born cohorts ? " sneer- y part, so Ligly^iestioned Lai Dhur. ' i, and all t ''Each of them has power to give to humanity an on to it, ;; iptilse for evil. Not a thought of wrong in man, ight. * ^ evil wish, or a dark deed, but is prompted si st the fell iT some Earthly entity like those around you, and iP^ I '' 86 EARTH-BORN. could human eyes see clearly, humanity woulcU: why at times hellish passion, and evil impulse, deadly sickness, sway the weak chan^lini:; c; man, who thinks himself a God, but who falls' than the brute. Philio's "In this world, called Earth, he is tossed a "One like an empty ball, neither knowing from whcnc yQjj ^jj spirit came or whence it goes. Then "When the shadows thicken about him, an fjn^^ |.j^, crosses to the realm of disembodied spirits, cast buj^gj into space like the chrysalis that has gained its ^v nothing but knows not its course or surroundings, tluhe gath( becomes the prey for those evil ones who have steppins before, and who grope in darkness round ti^is rhatf iiri able sphere, ever waiting, ever watching, fonirea^wd entered spirits. T^n " Would'st thou rise above it ere thy tiiiKof jj^bi pierce the mysteries which surround you ? toi come then, welcome, but know that you remaii h us, and reach no higher toward tlie outer sptj while we command the way." li] ' The sneering voice died slowly as Adrian Lai heavily against his comrade for support, and vi have fallen under the dread influence, had not gently laid him at his feet unconscious. " Welcome ! Welcome ! " cried Lai Dhur exiiltaj " Back to your shadows ! " sternly cried F] " We still are masters here ! " And at that moment he touched a little drop] a vial to the floor, and instantly a ring of fiie| rounded the two friends. A light incense arose] the circle of flame, and hovered over the rooiiil as it spread the gigantic figure above thorn d away, the v/hirling, honible circle slowly widj •i'* EARTH-BORN. 87 lity woiilclk'|p|=j,^^ clear ol the incense, until hnally, one by one, vil iJ^ip^ils^ they disappeared. Far away in the depths could be hanglini^^ t\ heard the rushing noise, as of distant water lashed by who falls 1( i-h^ wind, end again Lai Dhur's voice faintly reached Philip's ears : IS tossed a k Q^ce more have you escaped me, proud one, but from whcnlyQ^ ;n^ill y^.^- j^jj^ ^\^q Earth-Born throng." Then dead silence reigned, and while the incense )ut him, an lillecl the chamber, and the circle of flame still steadily spirits, cast huraed, Philip gave one glance around, and seeing gained its v, nothing but the dark curtains and the veiled figure, andings, tluhe gathered the unconscious Adrian in his arms, and 5 who h^ve stepping over the flame, gained the entrance, and 'ound this nhalf |prrying, half supporting his friend, they finally ching, for iireaiiftd the lower hall. Tffin Philip laid Adrian upon a divan, and by dint re thy tiiiiiof l^bing soon brought him to his senses, and und you ? t you remLiin le outer sp as Adrian lei pport, and w :e, had not P ous. . Dhur exiilti Illy cried F er they looked at the quiet body of Minotti near, and shudderingly wondered whether his would endow it with life again, or whether ose of the peaceful ones below, it would soar 1; forgetful of its sheath, for years, perhaps for- a little drop] ring of fiifj nccnse arose] /er the rooiiij )ove them m ! slowly widj CHAPTER VI. THE WONDERFUL ESSENCE WHICH PRODUCES ( th^ ha( drawn u "Her ing the < They nature d Adrian and i^id Adrian slept long and heavily after the e:\cit ** Phili experiences he had passed through in this mystci; I, and fa chateau, and it was late in the following day w of mystc he stirred uneasily upon his couch and drcai fathom I opened hi^ e^^v.:., gazing around as if uncertain ot of a^l to whereabouts. ^P^^^ ^^ *' Ah, 1 remember," he said, springing to his ! ™**,t|pl c "the visit to the tomb, the curtained chamber. 6xp^Jpen< IMinotti's catastrophe. But where is his body, .^^jfl^st ^ Philip, what has become oi him ? " [Or^r m These thoughts flashed rapidly over his braiii'^^J he stood fully awakened, and glanced cautiouj and searcrng'y about. What if Philip, too, d gone. But no, at that moment Philip appeared, and a|||.9l|J smile illumined his countenance as he saw Adri:'^**^^B ^* anxious look. ^ *^"^ •* Our meal is ready," he said,'' and you ha 'e sir . ®^^y ^^ long and heavily. I trust 3^ou feel rested." S?,«,^"^ " Rested, yes. If I really can feel at rest ap^"t^¥.^'^ But what have you done with Minotti?" ^^Jp^ ^ " His body lies peacefully in an adjoining rt; ".H*P I trust his spirit is as peaceful, but fear otherwi^^^^^^'j^W'- " x\ye, so do I. But what more can we do ? " f '^ '' Nothii'g, as yet, but watch and wait. But c« v^^^^^^ let us eat," and he led the wav into the room \\h- ^^ " . 88 Bwii ii | i Bn i iW P ij » uj i n. ltw i r * l EARTH-IJOKN. 89 JDUCES (^ they had eaten the previous day. Three chairs were drawn up to the tabic. * " He might awake and join us," said Philip, answer- ing the questioning^ look of Adrian. They sat down, and appeased the cravings of nature for food, and when they had finished the meal, Adrian kindly took the hand of Philip in his own, and aaid : :• the CAcit " Philip, we are left in this chateau alone, you and his mystcr; I, and fate has thrown us strangely together in a sea ino- day w of mysteries. I am young and hopeful, anxious to and dreai fathom the secrets which surround us, most anxious ncertainofof al^;.to discover the means of bringing back the spiri^H ^^ those whose bodies nov/ rest solely in our fjcr to his [™**t^^ care. You, possessing more knowledge and [ chamber. ^*P^- 1 we do ? " "^' -P^*^ "^^' ^^^ truth," queried Adrian, " if you know , tell mc, I beseech you, for I, their child, know the truth." it. But c. "^^ e room u EARTH-BORN. Philip turned his face away and asked sadly: iHB|>e(i "Of what avail would this*knowled^e be to yever be They were married and comparatively happy, ib '* Hkr world goes. What mere is necessary that you sIk^t a in( know?" laced h( "Then there was a little real love between t'alefrom I felt it from the first. What was the stca ome say their union?" onvfnt i " The Count was a scholar and a learned ina/as revi> many occult things. She was the sweetest, «;cii " Be th most impressible of womankind. He rcquircdic convt assistance in many ways. She was always kiist look treated, with unvarying courtesy and watchful ig word; but the Count had no heart for any woman, (frighted was bound up In his studies and his work, likca-ena j^oi student ancestors." irrfeSe, j " Then you think he married her in order {\\\]§Sirsiim t\ might assist him in his researches." 5r rjSlati " That I believe to be the case. I know th. exercised unbounded influence over her at all t and that he sent her spirit forth at will." " Then others loved her, but not the Count. iH " I did not say so." ne, " But I know it. How came he to marrv Where did he meet her?" " H ^1 n " She met him in St. Petersburg, at the hoPn^tipni her relative, Countess Helen Petrovisky, her mot sister. Her father. Count de Courcey, was Fr^^ but her mother belonged to a noble Russian 1 '^ of fortune and rank, the House of Rostopchin. " her parents died in the bloom of youth, leavii;." infant Lena to the care of her relative. Wheii'^ , father met her she was scarce eighteen, an^^f M^rt married him ere she was twenty. By so doiir^'W ^^ r V^ s n es, i.Ui MW " »J W >I i |»!". EARTH-BORN. 9» ced sadly: jf^Hred the wrntli of her kindred, and she has Jge be to vei ly happy, a^ " Hbr fortune was princely, and they designed her that you shi:>r a more powerful mate than a student Count, laced her in a convent at Kiev, and supposed her ; between tafe from all suitors, for she had many. She escaped, J the sccnomesay by feii^nini; death, while the sisters of the onv^nt still assert that she left her cell a corpse, but learned in;,raa revivified i)v Count Balzac's power. i^eetest, jj^cir "Bc that as it may, he met the funeral cortege at le requirniie convent ;;ates, was granted the privilege of one s always kiist look upon the dead, and as he spoke his sorrow- d watchful ig i|ords over her, she arose from the coffin, the ny woman, (frighted nuns fled, and ere their courage returned, work, like ;i.ena Jpourccy had been placed in Count Balzac's irri™5, and was driven rapidly away. Before the ,n order tliaiJiaSf this strange proceeding reached the ears of 3r wilativcs, she was irrevocably married to the 1 know tli. ''^^fp'"- ^ ^^^^ seldom seen Count Balzac for iskv hermotP'^ y^^^"^ previous to his last experiment, though cev' was Fr^t ^^* studied occultism together, and were f ist le Russian l^®'!^i'^ ^*^^^^ secret path of learning, ostopchin. *' ^S"*^^^ attracted by the blacker arts ri sorcery, outh leavii:^ W gradually drifted apart in our studies and ive. ' When C W^' ^^^^ sooner or later, he who calls upon vill." ;he Count e to marrv iorhteen, an ^'ferth-Bo: n powers, will be overwhelmed by By so doin^W^^^ ^^ continued in. True adepts call on them IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 .1 Li 12.2 ^ Ufi |2.0 IHIISH |l.25 1 U 1^ < 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. USM (716) 872-4503 92 EARTH-BORN. only when all else fails, and they can safely control| the power they invoke. " I think the enemies he gathered about him wer^ brought principally by those like Lai Dhur, learned occultists, who practiced but the darkest arts y selfish ends. Through one of these associates, princij pally, he was induced to transfer his property and his wife's to that man, with the exception of this old chateau and some few thousands of a vast estate, know but little of it, only what Minotti says, and hel could never prove before any court what had beeJ told him. Some day it may be solved, but knowli edge alone will do it." " But Minotti spoke of a band, a secret one, linked together for plunder, though professing a grandl creed, and through whose influence the Count \\;i; worked upon to a great extent, and that throuLr^J this association his misfortunes occurred. Where this band ? Who are its members ? " Philip's face darkened visibly as Adrian spoke] and leaning closely toward him, he said impress ively : ** Minotti was right, but of that band or ratherl order, I cannot tell you fully now. Suffice it to savl that it is so secret that many of its most dangerousl tools are ignorant that they are counted as its meni[ bers, and would swear truthfully that they kne\J nothing of it. Its initiates are scattered over thJ world. Its emissaries may be found among ai classes — the high, the low, the rich, the poor. It ia ancient in its origin, and originally used only ioi good ends, but for years it has fallen, and it is no\J generally controlled by the worst elements. It is ic| lentless in its pursuit and terrible in its power for cvi EARTH-nORN. 93 The Thugs and Assassins of India were at one time controlled by leaders in it. Lai Dhur was a control- ling member of it. The present leader of It in this country is the one who received your lost fortune, so Minotti informed nie years ago, and his career is so black that no Earthly power can save him. 1 have heard little of him for some time, however, and hope that he is satisfied with the injury done to you." ** But who is this man, and what is the order called? How may I know them?" excitedly asked Adrian. " His name I dare not tell you now, and, till later, let them rest. The members may be called counts, countesses, gentlemen, ladies, peasants, canaille, as you find them, but in whatever station found, they are just the same. There is but one infallible test to discover their identity, and that I cannot now dis- close to you. For the present let them be forgot- ten, and hope they are content with the ruin already wrought to you and yours." '* And shall 1 not be revenged upon them ? Shall I let my name and fortune go ? *' excitedly cried Adrian. " If you care to enter a strugglie now, in your youth, which if you live will follow you into old age. If you wish to throw your chances of discovering the whereabouts of the Countess, of the Count and Minotti to the winds. If you are prepared to give up all hope of knowledge beyond this sphere, in order to spend a lifeti'iie battling with some of the most evil elements in it, then seek to overthrow those who wreck the strongest when they choose. '* For your own sake, for the sa!:c of tliose 3'ou P4 EA^^TH-BORM. hold most dear, I would advise you to first perfec! yourself in knowledge, and then, when you full} understand the undertaking, if you desire to wai with that band, do so, but not now. They would overthrow you with a single move, and you would lose all, gain nothing." " I understand, and at another, later day, will ask for your advice. For the present, give me more know^ledge that I may explore the hidden paths which lead to that which seems now unattainable to mortals, the path which brings me to that great, un- known beyond, where all seems dark, mysterious and silent to humanity. Give me but the secret which will lead me safely there, and allow me to re- turn, and that is all I ask at present. Let the Earth be forgotten. I would rise above it and beyond it." " Well said, Adrian, Count Balzac. Let that band be forgotten then till such time as you can meet them without fear. Meantime, we will perfect ourselves in knowledge which will protect you, if used aright, against them, for in knowledge alone is safety." " What then shall be our next step, Philip ? You are better versed than I in these mysterious arts. Where shall we find what we seek ? " " We can find the knowledge desired in the private library of this chateau. First, we must safely dis- pose of this semblance to Minotti, which lies so calmly here beside us, and then we will to work." " What shall be done with the body ? " questioned Adrian, glancing at it half in doubt, half in anxiety. " I would suggest that we place it upon a couch in the apartment that we will occupy here, so that it will be ever near us in case the spirit should return, or that we take it to the tomb below, if you desire, EARTH-BORN. 95 and rest it side by side with those who are likewise silent as himself." '• .\s you please, but do you think we should ven- ture to the tomb with him. Had we not better place the body in some safe spot for the present, and leave its further disposal in the tomb until the influence below is less to be dreaded than now ? " ^' I agree with you fully, and we will lay the body in our private chamber till such time as it shall be safe to take it to the sepulchre below. Let us then select an apartment for our private use at once, and take it there. Follow me, Adrian, and make your selection from the rooms of this chateau, which for years have been unused." Philip arose as he spoke, and led the way toward the end of the great hall where they had slumbered during the preceding night. On he went, Adrian closely following. They passed to the left of the ji^rand staircase and soon reached a door at the end of the hall. It was securely locked, and ere Philip opened it, with a key drawn from a little vase which stood near, he said : " This was the private library of the Count, and of his ancestors. Here they read and pondered over volumes of that knowledge we desire to master. It is here we must find the final step. The private chamber adjoining was the sleeping apartment of the Count, and it is there I believe we had better place the body of Minotti, and there that we our- selves should sleep. These rooms are removed from the main part" of the chateau, and for that reason I think they are the safest and best for our purpose." As he finished speaking Philip turned the bolt, and they entered a medium sized room, through the cur- 96 EAKTII-UORN. tained windows of which a few rays of light shed their soft glow upon a noble array of books, charts, and curious looking instruments. Philip raised the curtains, and they gazed around them in the full light of day. Suddenly Adrian ut- tered a startled exclamation, and pointed to a por- trait set into the wall, and hanging over the mantle- piece above an ancient fireplace. " What is that, Philip ? " he cried, and as they both looked, the lips of the portrait appeared to weave into a faint, shadowy smile, and the eyes flashed with almost speaking intelligence. *' The duplicate of the portrait in the residence on the Rue St. Honore," cried Adrian, excitedly. " See how it smiles as we look. It is the same — the haughty features, the dark, piercing eyes, and the striking countenance." Was it also a guard over a secret recess ? And as the thought sprang into Adrian's mind the portrait slowly swung outward, and disclosed a hidden re- ceptacle, similar to that shown when its counterpart was seen in the house on the Rue St. Honore. " I feel that he will help us," exclaimed Adrian, and the lips of the portrait seemed to smile in aqui- escence. " Do you know whose face that is, Philip ? " he anxiously questioned. " I know not," replied Philip. " I only know that it has been in the family for years, and is the por- trait of some magian or sorcerer of ancient Egypt, and wherever its counterpart is found there is mystery connected with it. I am told there were but seven like it in the world. But see, within the recess a shadowy hand beckons to you and points to the roll below." vciours ( EARTH-BORN. 97 Ere he ceased speakinj^, Adrian bounded forward, and crraspcd the roll. The hand faded away, the p{)i\'rai: swun.j back to its place with an easy grace, and Adrian stood before Philip with the roll in his possession, and a joyous expression upon his counte- nance. " A i^ood be^^inning for the day, Philip. Now to the private chamber, then let us dispose of the body, and next to work. We shall succeed. I feel it ! I know it ! " and his eyes again lighted with that flame of enthusiasm which bespoke his earnestness. Philip caught the inspiration, and pressed his friend's hand warmly, while his eyes answered the Hash from Adrian's. Then he opened a side door and disclosed a larger room, saying : " This is our apartment. How do you like it ? " Adrian stepped into the chamber, but it was so dark that he could not distinguish much of the sur- roundings, until Philip rolled the heavy curtains :.\vav from the windows. Then he saw that the room was handsomely furnished, with antique, but jclen^ant furniture, heavy and impressive. Over the l)ed there hung a satin canopy, from which depended [velours curtains, rich and tasteful. The chairs I were large and easy, while two divans invited the weary to rest. The walls were richly decorated in I red and gold, dark and elegant. But the most at- tractive objects to Adrian were two portraits hang- ing side by side upon the wall. One was of the Count, his father. One of the Countess, his mother. |Gazing at them earnestly, he said : " This is our abidmg place. Here we will work lout the mystery of man. With these faces before Ime io inspire, we shall succeed." 98 EARTII-RORN. " Well said, Adrian. Now let us brinj^ Minotti here, and the earlier we begin our researches, the sooner we will end in knowledge." Together they left the chamber, and soon returned, bearing between them the inert form of Minotti, which they carefully laid upon one of the divans, ::nd sad!y looking down upon it, both inwardly vowed that sooner or later they would fathom the mystery surrounding that quiet form, and those other lifeless ones below. '* Now to work," cried Adrian, as they entered the library. And he looked exultantly over the \o\v^ array of volumes spread out in tier upon tier before his eyes. And then he gazed once more at the por- trait over tlie mantelpiece, and again it seemed to smile at him with speaking intelligence in its glance. He picked up the roll he had taken from the recess, and saw the Chaldean inscription upon the outside, wliic!:, translated, read : *' He who would pierce the hidden laws of Nature must first know himself in all his intricate entirety. That man who knows himself, his power, his pur- pose, his four-fold nature and his highest impulse, can mount the ladder made for him alone, and breathe the free air of a limitless creation. Let none essay to mount that ladder ere they know them- selves full well, or Nature, whom they thus defy. will turn their knowledge to disaster." This was written upon the outside leaf in a clear hand, for the roll was of the ancient style of Egyptian pen printed papyrus, before the era of type and press had rendered printing easy. At the bottom oi the inscription was signed : '* JANXES, CHALDEAN.' EARTH-BORN. 99 Only these words, Jind evidently the author's name and country. Adrian turned the papyrus leaves until lie reached the followin<^, which attracted his attention, and which translated, ran : *' The spirit, or the mind — that guidini^ power which holds in abeyance the life principle, and the body it inhabits — and the soul — that nebulous cover- ing; which surrounds the spirit — are bound by loose fetters to the body whicn are easily broken. As the human body lays aside its dress, or changes it at caprice, when no longer'desirable, so the mind can lay aside its dress, the body, and change its covering if it desires, without awaiting the actual death of the body, which frees the spirit forever from that habitation. " This result can be obtained by using every en- deavor to render the mind superior to the body in all things, as the power to free the mind comes only through long and continued subjection of the body, until the latter reaches the desired state when the spirit can be freed from it without injury to the spirit, soul, life principle or body. " To accomplish this result, subject the body to frequent fasts, place vegetable food only within it, j^ive up the pursuits of the flesh, and embrace the higher desires of the mental nature, to the exclusion of the material. That man who devotes his life to enriching his external surroundings, who thinks more of Ills body than his mind, seldom gives that mind an opportunity to escape ere complete death of the body sets it free. " The mind cannot serve two masters. Either it becomes the slave of Earthly desires, pertaining to that body it inhabits ; or it springs into nigher fields, and serves alone that source from which it sprang. • All minds are free at intervals, when death of the body releases them, until such time as they are called again to supply some body with its mental 100 EARTH-HORN. capaci^^y, and enter ur.cc n^^^rc tlic strii^j^lc for per- fection. "The inind, !)rinLr fllKMcal. Invisible, and not in i\\\y sense bclon'^niL', to Marlli, is affected by Kartlny agents only s<» l;ir r»s they affect the body thai mind inhabits. Thcrciore, lo control the mincl, do not introduce common ICarthl)' agencies, but the hijj^her ones of tlioni^ht, reflection and Icarninji^. These j^ive the mind practice, until at last, the body beini; in proper condition, the will of the individual prevails, and the spirit leaves its temporary habita- tion and returns to it as desiied. " While luirthly aj-ents, such as fastinj^ and vcj^ct- able food, do not affect the mind itself, they can so powerfully act upon the body that by their use the spirit is assisted to freedom, because they place its home ill such a state that this liberty can be taken without injury to any portion of the individual. *• Drugs can debase the body, stupefy the life principle within it, and to rdl appearances kill the mind at times. But this latter effect is produced because the drug has so affected the body that it is not a proper habitation for the mind, and so the mind leaves it by degrees as the body by degrees becomes unfit, until finally it is vanished, and the body is without a mind, simply being endowed with the soul and life principle. In this case the person is partially or wholly insane, and the mind can only return as the body becomes fit to receive it. These drugs are to be shunned. " There is one natural essence which, can stupefy the life principle, and leave it in such a condition that it awakes to the touch of the master mind at will. Under the use of this powerful essence the body becomes dormant, needs no nourishment, and will lie for years in perfect health, ready at any time the returning mind may desire, to a^ain waken to life. It is a liquid so volatile that it is but rarely secured, even when found, as it vanishes into air readily when exposed. It exists in some animals and reptiles at certain times, and when found at all, is KAurii r.oKX. lOI discovered in a small . ac, attached to the brain. ill such animals, at ^ivcn periods, this vSac opens and emits a drop ot the fluid, which so soon as it touches the nerve centre, stops all action, renders the life principle dormant, antl the animal loses all vitality until such time as it is again desirable to become an animate object. *' A drop ot this fluid, or even the inhalation of it, will render the life principle dormant in man. and permit the mind to leave the body with perfect safety to both. "Only at certain periods does this fluid exist in the animal, or reptile, and the "greatest care is neces- sary to find and preserve it. The crocodile of the Nile |)roduces it. The hooded seri)ent of the jungles of Asia and Africa at times possess it. The lowly frog of the marsh generates it. It must be detached from the quivering sac ere the brain ceases to act, for with the cessation ot the action, the sac opens, and the fluid escapes. •' Searcher after the hidden laws of nature, know that this is one of the initial steps." Adrian closed the roll, and once more glanced at the dark features of the portrait over the mantel. Again the lips appeared to smile with a triumphant expression. Turning to Philip, Adrian said : " Let me see the vinaigrette you tock from Minotti's hand in the tomb below." Philip handed it to him, and Adrian slowly raised it, and carefully examined its contents. There was little in it, but a few drops of the golden hued liquid still remained, brilliant and scintillating. " This is that w^onderful essence which controls the life giving principle. When shall we partake of it? " " When we have followed the directions given, and feel that we shall m.ect with success." '' Vou are right, Philip, and now to work — to j study — to win ! " I CHAPTER VII. THE LAST DAY ON KARTII. Six months have come and gone since tlie three friends met at the Chateau Balzac. Months of det p study and of research for two of them — months (>( silence for the other. Adrian had often in that period felt an intangible presence near him, and imagined that he could feel the soft gaze of tender eyes btnt over his work and himself. He repeatedly mentioned this to Philip, who, like the questioner, thought it was the beautiful Countess watching over them. Minotti's spirit had not returned to his body in these days and weeks past. While they had care- fully watched for any sign of reviving animation, they were not rewarded. His body lay as silent and inert as on the first day, and they had well nigh given up hope of seeing him in life again. After their previous experiences they had avoided both the curtained chamber and the tomb, but Adrian had learned from Philip that the latter con-| nected with the catacombs of Paris, and that the horrible circle of shadows they had seen, were in all I probability remnants of the souls of those bodies which had been removed from the Cemetery of the Innocents, and other burial grounds, and were placed in the dark galleries of the catacombs, where room was not an object, and the bones would rest in equal] safety as in the overcrovv'ded cemeteries. He likewise learned that the pyramid of the tomb| 102 EAinii-noRN, 103 liad been constructed (i stone quarried from the {•;.tac()nibs, as had much of I'aris, and that it was built by woikiiicn wlio had not been permitted to ; ccnd to the chateau, but entered the catacombs in r c city of Paris. lii beiu.'j: led throuirh the dark tfal- K : ics, they coukl not tell at what |u)int the pyramid v.:.s built, whether iu Paris, St. Cloud, Versailles, or elsewhere. This was important, as it was necessary for the Count's plan that the secrecy of his tomb should be inviolate, and further that it should be free from the ti.icvcs who infested the catacombs. So the entrance V. IS walled up between the tomb and the catacombs, \v!ien the pyramid was tinished, but it could be easily re cpencd in case of necessity for removal or flight. /vdrian learned many things during these months, and Philip and himself followed the instructions laid out for students of occult knowledge, in both the Dlack branch and the White. Finally, feeling that tlicy were prepared, Adrian said : " Philip, I think the time has arrived, and I am ready for the final step." *' Then we will take it together," answered Philip, '• but first we must prepare' this chateau against in- trusion in our absence." " True, and our bodies must be placed in the most secret spot. But what is the latest report regarding iMinotti's disappearance?" " It has ceased to agitate the people of his parish, and his successor fills his place with satisfactory results. They cling to the theory of murder and abduction, however, when it is spoken of at intervals. But weightier things occupy the public and the papers now than the strange disappearance of any I04 EARTH-BORN. priest. Riots for bread fill turbulent Paris with fear, and the days look dark for France." " Then we are completel}'- forgotten, and it is well, for I had few acquaintances who cared enoui^^h to enquire, and Minotti's many friends have given him up for lost." Adrian advanced to Minotti's silent body as he spoke, and requested Philip to try once again with him, as they had frequently done, their combined power over him, and see if they could net bring his wandering spirit back. Following the mystic rules they had learned in the book of Jannes, they each grasped one of his hands, placed their free hands upon his head, and uttering a prayer from the Ka- bala, they willed in one mighty effort for him to arise. ' As they willed and spoke, Minotti arose from the couch, shaded his eyes with his hands, and stood there like a statue of the dead, peering doubtfully about him. Philip and Adrian both sprang joyously toward him, and threw their arms about him in rapture at his return. " You called me. and ' I am here, but we are in the Count's library, and I thought we were all in the sepulchre below. Yet it seems somewhat indistinct What has happened ? How came we here ? " And then the circumstances of his sudden cata- leptic state were described, together with all subse- quent events, and Minotti listened with deep inter- 1 est to the recital. At the end, he sighed deeply, | and sadly said : ** Then it is true as I had dreamed and thought,| that I will never be fitted to carry out the experi- EAkTlI-iK)RN. 105 h fear, i it is noui^h given as Ue in with mbined ring bis :ic rules ^ey each c bands tbe Ka- bim to rom the nd stood :)ubtfuUy y toward apture at ire in the II in the distinct. »» len cata- ill subse- ;ep inter-' deeply! tbought, le experi] ments that my heart desires most. I will always be of the Earth, Earthly, and unable to rise above it." *' Wait, and be patient," exclaimed a strange voice, as if coming from the lips of the panelled portrait. The friends looked at each other in wondering silence, and Minotti shivered slightly as he replied : ** Who speaks ? " But no answer came, and after a few moments of waiting, Adrian broke the silence by saying : " Have you no recollection of the occurrences in your trance state, Minotti ? " " None. It is an absolute blank to me." " How then can those who make the trial keep an Earthly record of their adventures while in the spirit ? " queried Adrian. " Through the veiled image," answered the strange voice, as if again coming from the lips of the por- trait. " But Tuaa will not answer to but few," replied Adrian. " The image will answer if you return to it either in the flesh or in the spirit," replied the voice. " But I may not be able to come back. I may not wish to leave a distant world and return to this. What then ? " questioned Adrian. " You will be able to come back," said the voice. '* And if I do not wish to lose the time ? " again juestioned Adrian. " Time is made for humanity by mortals. There is no time for the freed spirit. As the spark of elec- tricity circles the world in a second, so does the freed spirit circle the Universe at will in an instant," I replied the voice. " And who are you who tells me this ? ' i; io6 EARTH-BORN. " I am one forgotten ages ago. Question me no more about myself. Some day you will know." ** And who shall try the experiment? I, alone, or all of us? " queried Adrian. *' Philip and yourself. Let Minotti remain and keep his trust," replied the voice. '* When shall we make the test?" said Adrian. ** This night, when the portrait smiles upon you. Not before. Farewell ! till we meet again," and the voice ceased. " One word more," cried Adrian. " Know you aught of her ? " But silence reigned, and no word broke its still- ness. All sat quietly for several moments hoping the voice would again reply, but it did not, and finally Minotti said : '* This night, then, we part. Let us arrange our affairs quickly and well. I will remain behind and guard all the bodies. Only promise me that you will, one of you, return within a fortnight, and give me news through Tuaa of your success and adven- tures." ** One of us will return," said Adrian. " And withm the time named," said Philip. " Then I will visit the curtained chamber at noon every day," replied Minotti. " And now to prepare for the trial. Where will you make it ? " " Here in this room," replied Adrian. " Yes, I think it is best to make it here," joined in Philip, " but how shall we dispose of our bodies? " " 1 will place them in the adjoining apartment, side by side, and will rriyselt occupy this room to be near them," replied Minotti. *' They will be well cared for, I promise you." EARTH-BORN. 107 " And I will bring Karnac to assist in the watch," cried Adrian. And he willed the python to appear. Ere long they heard him swiftly coming through the hallway, and he soon entered the apartment, his eyes blinking brightly, and his head proudly erect. He went straight to Adrian. " Karnac will be an able assistant," said Minotti, and the python laid his head against Adrian's hand as if to emphasize the statement by this sign of alle- giance. " And now, regarding our bodies, Minotti, all be- ing arranged, what shall we say for our spirits. Sup- pose we could not after all, come back, what would you do ? " queried Adrian. " The voice said you could return," replied Minotti, "and that voice seldom errs." " What, you know it then ? " asked Adrian in sur- prise. *' I feel that it speaks the truth," replied Minotti, "and beyond that I know nothing." " Whose do you think it is ? " asked Philip. " I do not know, but I judge the voice is that of the original of the portrait," was Minotti's reply. " It is perhaps Jannes, as both the cabinet here and in the Rue St. Honore contained papyrus writings signed with that name." " But not that Jannes who stood before Pharaoh, and combined with Jambres, opposed his magic against Moses in his efforts to free the children of Israel," said Philip, "for this is a Chaldean, while that Jannes was Egyptian." " It may be one and the same," said Minotti, " and if it is, Adrian's power, combined with your own, can, now that you are prepared, perhaps bring their i[ :■-'■ io8 EARTH-BORN. souls before you through the Black Incantation you will find in this book," and Minotti handed them a volume from the library entitled, " Magic, and the Great Magicians of the Ancient World," by Zoro- aster. Looking at it, they recognized it as one they had seen before in their studies. They memorized the incantation, and Minotti made them promise that if they tried it and succeeded in obtaining anything they would inform him. Adrian then said : " Remember, Minotti, if you hear nothing from us at the end of a fortnight, do not give up hope, but wait, knowing that we will return as quickly as possible." " I will remember," answered Minotti, " but as the day is now far advanced, judging by the sunlight, had we not better take a last walk together around the grounds before you bid farewell ? " " You are right," said Philip. " I wish to once more walk in the sunlight of this Earth, ere we test the lights and shadows of another, and perhaps a darker existence. Who knows what we may meet at the very beginning of the experiment." " But wait — suppose the experiment, after all, should not be necessary. We have recalled Minotti, why not the others," said Adrian. '* To the tomb, at once ! " cried Philip, and Minotti seconded him with enthusiasm. So to the panel they went, ignited the lam}), brought forth the censer, lit the incense, and were soon winding down the Secret stairway, when Min- otti turned back and said he would await thei above, as he thought they had better go without hir For a moment they hesitated, and then acquiesce and he returned, while they sped onward. EARTH-BORN. 109 The tomb was gained, the sarcophagus lay before them, and within it reposed the two silent ones, covered with the veiling. Softly and reverently they advanced, while the features of Scsostris looked mystically upon them from above, and the golden figures of Ra and of Isis shone from the dark curtains as before. There was no change, and as they gazed upon the surroundings, each felt that they were far better able to cope with any evil shades than they had been on their previous visit. No fear entered their hearts. Clasping hands, they gently raised the veiVing, and before them lay the beautiful sleepers. Thai, gently raising the hands of the Countess, they ^ each took one, and placing their free hands upon her forciead, willed as before over the priest, with earnest strength, for her spirit to return. But no ans'jering movement greeted their effort, although botb had been repeating the same prayer used over Minotti. It was a failure, and gently laying the beautiful figure down, they resolved to try with the Count. The same process was tried with him, and with like result. No feature moved, and the sleepers slept on as before. " Let us try the art of the Black Incantation," whispered Philip to his companion. " The secret may thus possibly be unlocked, and it is said that one will always appear to those who try it without fear, and bring their wills to bear strongly." "We will try it," returned Adrian, in a whisper. Joining their four hands over the sarcophagus, they bent their wills together as before, and slowly chanted : no i:artii-born. "Thou, who stood before Sesoslris,* And wilh Moses measured genius. Thou, who stayed the hand of Pharaoh When he would have set them free. Listen, Listen, to our calling, Gently, Gently, o'er us falling, Send thy spirit and encompass Those who dare to call on thee. Jannes ! Jambres ! Mortals here Thus adjure you. Rise ! Appear ! " The incense arising from the censer slowly bat surely wafted its faint perfume over and around them. The golden figures of Ra and of Isis glim- mered mystically in the half light. The ivory fice of Sesostris above them gleamed cold and clear. 'Gradually the lamp-light faded, faded. Fainter and fainter it grew, and now from out the shadows tliey could distinguish two luminous figures of ancient and majestic mien. Dark were their faces, and bound about either wrist was the sacred serpent. High and commanding was their presence. Strange and unfamiliar their appearance. Yet one resembled the dark portrait over the secret receptacle, but his face was as adamant, and his lips no longer smiled in triumph as he spoke : " Jannes and Jambres, highest of Chaldean priests, who defied the powers of the Hebrew before the presence of the great Pharaoh, are here. What would you ? " " The return of these two wandering spirits/ couragequsly answered Philip. " Boldly have you called us. Bravely have you *The quotation is given as it .-ippears in the roll, althoiicrh many historians claim that it was the successor of Sesostris, Mineptah II., that Moses stood before, and made hi$ demands of.— AViVt'r. KAKTH-HORN. Ill spoken. Vet tlic Uana, the Renin, the Uthun, and Tcrrasal control them. Nor can we set tlicm free.'* " But shall we find them in our searchinii:? ' easier- \\y and fearlessly questioned Adrian. " Sooner or later you will see them. May Osiris, rud Isis, and Horus assist you. Farewell I " And the two figures faded away, and the misty license spread again over the scene. The light of tie lamp grew brighter, and in that quiet, rock-en- conpassed chamber, dedicated to the living dead, t\\(sy breathed free and exultant, for they knew that at I^ist their research had succeeded, and they were makers of themselves — that never again would the evili Earth-Born souls be able to prevail against theiji. Tiiey had fortified themselves with knowledge. whi(h, if used aright, could always protect them. On\r by their free will could they now be prevailed upoi, and though they had failed in the principle test^ vStill they had succeeded in that one which proted them ready to take the final step. They had iiseA both the White and the Black, and had emerged without fear or harm from the latter. They had proven successful in Minotti's case with the former. So, after one last, lingering look at the quiet in- mites of the sarcophagus, they placed the veiling ac,*ain about the silent figures. With fleet steps they giined the stairway, and were soon at Minotti's side, whom they found enjoying a meal after his long fast. '' Come out into the sunshine," said Adrian, after |clliag him their experience, " and let us take a last look ere we bid farewell to the chateau and its mysteries." M 112 EAKTII-]U)I. H' im J 'f. i V 122 EARTH-BORN. " And what do you know of Adam and of Eve?" said Adrian, ea.f^crly. " I knew them both long years ago," was the quiet reply, "before they were first sent to Earth. Alas! They grew discontent, as have all others since thcir time upon that planet." " You knew them both ?" cried Adrian, aghasr, ** If so, what has become of them ?" ** What becomes of all who live and have desires to live again ? They re-appear at tim.es, an.d in eacii new existence hope to find it better than the last, till finally the chastened spirit enters that bright world where naught distdrbs them evermore, and each is content to follow his heart's desire forever." " And where did you meet Eve?" questioned Ad- rian. ' ' '' I have met her many times and in many worlds, in years gone by," replied the old shade sadly. " If it is Eve you seek, beware of Lilith. They are ever together in this life and their final fate will doubtless meet them simultaneously. Eve will never be con- tent without Adam. Lilith will not permit them to remain together. Seek not Eve if you would be content." " What has Lilith to do with Eve that I cannot seek and find her?" boldly replied Adrian. The pale spirit smiled sadly and shook his head. ** I have seen others seek her in the ages past," he said. " For every Earth life she endures new spirits seek her when she leaves. And as for Lilith, y<^^^' must know her historv, and the reason of her influ- ence over Eve." *' I know it not ; so if you will, pray tell me." ** Then listen. Lilith was a rare and beautiful EARTH-BORN. t2j daughter of Terrasal, the Karth Spirit. She was a true daughter of Earth, bcini( evohitionized from the animal races of your world through centuries of slow development and pain. Race after race of zoo- phyte and mollusc, then of reptiles, later of animals and birds, lived and died upon your sphere ere Ter- rasal could finally produce a race of men. In time they came, and worshipped in their ignorant way the world which gave them birth. These races of men were not endowed with spirituality or great intelligence, but they were the pride of Terrasal, who loved them better than all his previous produc- tions, and they in turn loved him. They asked no higher king than the grand oceans, the lofty moun- tains, the glorious sun, and the wonderful world that surrounded them. They had no minds or spirits to save. They troubled themselves net with the here- after. They were happy, as the beast when wild and free is happ3^ As the bird with outstretched wings, soaring over the Earth, is happy. As ignor- ance is always happy when unmixed with the new desires and fears which invariably accompany an awakening spirituality and a dawning reason. " Lilith reigned among them as their queen, a beautiful symb(>l of a beautiful world, and upon her Terrasal spent his greatest powers, and gave her all he had to give, including a certain amount of reason and instinct far above her race. A true spirit he eould not endow her with — it was beyond his power. "For some years Lilith reigned, and then one fatal day for Terrasal, a new being appeared, endowed by a higher power with full attributes of reason and a mind. This was Adam, a God-born, not an Earth- Born being. He induced Lilith to leave her people. t ', i 4C) , 124 EARTH-BORN. and mate with him, and ere a year had passed he cast her off, together with her boy, and mated with the God-born being Eve, who, like himself, possessed inteUigence and a soul. " They worshipped a higher being than Terrasal, and for this, and Adam's treatment of his favorite daughter, the Earth Spirit began a warfare with the human race which has continued to this day, and still continues. He has dominion over all things Earthly, over the bodies, and over the passions of man, which spring from the Earthly envelope, but over the true spirit he has no dominion. *' Eve was tender, sweet and loving. Lilith subtle, cunning and revengeful. Through Terrasal Lilith obtained dominion over Eve, who yielded her God- born spirit to the yoke of Earthly thraldom, and for this she was rejected by the highest power, and fell an easy prey to Terrasal, Adam (ailing with her, equally guilty. ** Since that day Eve has never known full con- tentment. She strives in new Earthly existences to content a God-born spirit which nothing Earthly ere will satisfy. Adam likewise wanders o'er the Uni- verse, and like Eve is ever trying a new life in the struggle to satisfy his spirit, which will never be content." " You speak of Adam and Eve being God-born. Then whence came they ? " " They came from that bright planet where con- tented spirits dwell — where I once dwelt — from Jupiter, the largest and the best of all the chastened worlds within the system of this sun." " And you came from Jupiter here ? " questioned Adrian. EAkTir-noRN. 125 " Yes, but not direct. I watch the vapors take shape and cool, and form into the habitation for the living, and then I leave them for new forming spheres, and ever move onward as the worlds ad- vance. I have traversed many of them in ages past, and know that life upon them does not mean content. Therefore, I shun them when man makes his appear- ance, and seek a newly forming planet like this." " And how long have you been here } " wonder- ingly said Adrian. " Since first the nebulous vapor formed this sphere, and that is thousands of years ago. When Mars floated in space a mass of gaseous vapor, your Earth was burning as now is Mars. It will be thousands of years hence when this planet shall become habit- able for reptile, beast or man," was the quiet reply. "And what do you do in all these years?" asked Adrian. " Repent that I ever left my Jupiterian home, from which I now am barred, and seek solace in seeing the worlds form and then decay," was the sad reply. " Have you seen them decay, as well as form ? " said Adrian. " I have seen them rent asunder and scattered through space in fiery fragments and dire confusion. Look above you. See yon seeming little star which floats so calmly in boundless space. Know that this is one of the fragments of the greatest and most glorious world that triumphant time and battling elements could fashion? 1 watched that bright world rise and fall ere Earth or Mars were known to mortals, and the spirits set free then are wander- ing still through space and other worlds. " Your world is peopled now with some of them. •■ i *' { .< m 126 EARTH- HORN. for, in the endless chain of advancin/j^ and decayinjx worlds, the true spirit never dies, and lives forevcr restless until time and chasteninj^ fit it for an end- less rest in Jupiter, the Nirvana of this chain of spheres. " Adam and Eve both, like myself, had gained tliis rest by long and weary lives in other worlds, and having fallen from our high estate, and sinned against the Highest, we are still condemned to rest- lessness and discontent until such time as annihila- tion overtakes us, or our punishment is deemed sufficient, and we are again admitted to the rest obtained in Jupiter alone." ** But where can Eve be found, for find her I must, though it brings me no content," and Adrian's voice was sad, yet firm. " If you really must seek her, follow me, and I will lead you through the stars to where she doubtless wanders, with Lilith by her side," responded the old spirit. '* A thousand thanks," cried Adrian. " Let us has- ten there at once." " Then follow me," replied the ancient shade, and as he spoke, they cleared the smoke and flames sur- rounding Mars, and shot like arrows into space. " Let us not hasten," said Philip, " but as we go we can perhaps learn something of these many shapes and worlds we see around us. There is a peculiar one. What is that?" " This is a planet where the waters are fighting tiic fires. See the deluge fall upon the molten mass, and as the steam arises, new rain clouds form and drencli the fire again. In years to come the waters wi! drive the Fire King back into the bowels of this EARTII-UOKN. 127 sphere, and upon the cool crust formed around it, men like yourselves may live." They sped by this elementary world, and soon arrived upon a stranj^e scene, where seemingly sliowers of little stars were ccnterin<^ about a larger one, gradually joining it, and increasing its size. " What is tiiis? •' queried Philip. " This is a planet forming by the process of cohe- sion. These are the chips from worlds destroyed, which, fiying around in space, join finally together, and form another globe from tiie remnants of those blown to pieces by internal elements of destruction." " What are those elements? " asked Philip. " Generally it is one element, steam. Your world, the Earth, is but a globe of molten fire, surrounded by a crust some thirty-five miles in thickness. As the Earth is some seven thousand nine hundred and twenty-six miles in diameter, it follows that there is between the solid shell some seven thousand eight hundred and fifty-six miles of fiery, molten matter, so hot that rocks and metals melt together in one seeth- inof mass. The Earth's surface is two-thirds covered with water. Let this water but once find its way into the fires below, and you can see how quickly your world would explode, fly into space, and be scattered far and vide. " This is what befel that bright world which I told you of. A chain of volcanic mountains in action suddenly sank below the level of the oceans, and the waters forced the fires back with thunderous detona- tions till they reached the molten mass within. Then with one grand upheaval, and an explosion which disturbed the equihbrium of the sun itself, the world was scattered far and wide, the bodies of its inhab- f If' I ,?; ,.i"' '»: iM. 128 i:aktii-iu)kn. itants were destroyed, their spirits set free, and all their works of lon<^ a^es flung into surrounding space so far away , that while some pieces of the planet struck the sun itself, others flew millions of miles distant. " Your Earth philosophers call these pieces aster- oids, or minor planets, and so far have found over two hundred of them. In reality they are scattered even into other solar systems, so great was the explosion and its force." " That was a grand and wonderful sight," exclaimed Philip. " How long ago did it occur? " " So long that new worlds have been formed from parts of the wreck, and races of men have lived upon them and have disappeared so thoroughly that these spheres are ready for decay themselves." " And what was the name of this wonderful world that was lost so long ago ?" said Adrian, joining in. " It was called Neb, by its inhabitants," said the old shade in reply, " and here is one of the pieces of the wreck, which your men call Flora, the nearest asteroid to the orbit of Mars." " And may I ask to whom we speak ? " said Adrian again. " I am Nebule, at one time chief among the spirits ruling o'er the destinies of Neb, but now an outcast from that dethroned world, and also from its twin planet, Jupiter," said the ancient spirit mournfully. " Nebule ! To whom the stars are young ! Are you that great Hierophant?" eagerly exclaimed Philip. " I am Nebule," was the dignified reply. " Then we are indeed in the company of one who knows the Universe," exclaimed Philip. " Fortune has favored us." M, ICARTM-IJORN. 129 " Say not that fortune favors you in this. Your coming was not unexpected," returned Nebula. " I'^'c told nie when last we met that you would come, and I awaited you." " Then you have seen her recently," said Adrian. " I have seen her within the day," replied Nebulc. " h,ve and Lilith were present to you shortly before you shed your bodies for this trial, and to this visit you owe your safe exit from the Earth without a struggle against the powers of Terrasal." " But Terrasal, you say, has no power over the free spirit," vSaid Adrian. " Nor has he," replied Nebulc. " But over the Terrene envelope which still encases your true spirit, he holds sway. Philip shed his when he quit the body, for it was his v/ish that all things Earthly which encompassed him should leave him then and there, as he should never claim them more. But you arc still encased in your semi-Earthly covering, and you will need it upon your return to Earth. With- out it, you could not again enter the body in a satis- factory state." "And wliat is this semi-Earthly covering? What does it resemble?" asked the puzzled Adrian. " It is an envelope of gaseous nature, a part of that nebulous vapor which surrounds the Earth, and which all beings Earth-Born are enveloped in imme- diately beneath their covering of matter. It assumes the shape of the body exactly, and at true death of the body it remains upon Earth, while the spirit with- in it soars away, if fit to rise above the Earth. If not, and the spirit is filled with truly Earthly desires to the exclusion of higher aims, then the spirit and this envelope remain together upon Earth, until the ; ; tf i,wi- ■:: ■ '!" i;»i 'm4 m 130 EARTir-nORN. spirit gains such desires for hio^hcr things than Earth can afford, thaf it shakes off this covering, and springs into boundless space without it. *' It was these spirits and tlieir gaseous enveloprs which you saw in the Terrene Circle. It is thesi- spirits which walk the Karth and are termed its ghosts. It is this gaseous envelope which remain > when humans by accident lose a limb, and whicli gives them the impression the limb is still there ff)r days. When it leaves, in such cases, it retains the shape of the lost human part* and hovers over tlic Earth in this fragmentary state. Even now, Philip's deformed envelope is flitting over the Earth, under the influence of Terrasal, while his spirit is here, and his body lies in the keeping of Minotti," replied Nebule. ** You seem to know us well. Even our names are known to you without our telling you," said Philip. " Eve gave me your names and histories. I have seen you in your Earthl}' trials at her request. You are not unknown to me," replied Nebule. " Then Eve is interested in us still, ana always has been," said Adrian joyfully. " Eve is interested in all of her Earth-Born child- ren," quietly replied Nebule, " and they are invari- ably interested in her. Women like Eve, God-born originally, are rare indeed on Earth, while Lilith's sisters are plentiful as drops in a rain storm. Those who once know Eve can never forget her, while those who love Lllith can be content wnth her sisters. Eve represents the truest ty})c of God-born woman- hood found on Earth, wliile Lilith represents the fullest and most glorious type of Earth itself, un- EARTH-BORN. 131 mixed witli hi;^hcr attributes. Few Adams find their lives. Many mate with their Liliths on Karth." *' And wliere arc you Icadinjr us, Nebule ? It is to Rve I know, but what is this great world that wc arc ncarin;; ? " asked Adrian. " f^' its wonderful belts you should know that tiiis is Jupiter, that l)ri;^ht world which four moons .'iccompany, and whose mass is several hundred times that of the Earth, and much greater than that of idl the planets in this solar system combined. This was once my home, but now I cannot take you there," sadly said Nebule. " No Earth-Born or rebellious spirit can stay long in Jupiter, without being thoroughly chastened and freed from Earthly and rebellious wish and thought. When you once reach Jupiter, never leave it, as did Adam, Eve and I." " But can we not approach nearer to it ^" asked Philip. '' Yes, we can hover around within its neighbor- hood if desired, but you will not find Eve there." "And where will we find her?" eagerly asked Adrian. " We will find her in Neptune, if she is in this solar system. It is there she waits, and repents of her Earthly experiences, which the power of Lilit!i ever urges her to again undertake." " In Neptune. That is the farthest from the sun of all the solar worlds," said Philip, " and is so far, indeed, that from it that glorious orb looks littic larger than Venus appears from Earth." " Yes, Neptune is far away, and dark, and cold, and drear," replied Nebule, *' but here Eve finds repentance, and hither flies with Lilith every age and cycle which the world denotes. Amid the snows, .11!^ ' ?!? II- I 4',it;'i J 5*1 132 EARTH-BORN. ; and ice, and darkness of that dreary planet, she finds a fit companionship for thoughts as sad and mournful 1 " as the scenes arounc They sped onward in silence after this remark, for all were oppressed by the sad words of Nebule regarding Eve, and Adrian began to dimly under- stand that he might indeed find her, and still be far from contented. A vague feeling of sadness and dis- satisfaction stole over him by degrees, until his spirit was as chilled and mournful as that of Eve herself. Onward they went, on and on, ever farther away from the sunlight, ever speeding into the deeps beyond, where outer darkness seemed to reign supreme. Jupiter was left far behind them, like a glorious world they dare not enter, and now they were nearing another planet, and by its rings and its eight moons they knew that it was Saturn. They had sped many million miles since leaving Jupiter, and had traveled nearly to the other side of the sun, which at times they would fain have nearecl, but Nebule led them persistently away from it in an ever increasing circle, until now Saturn lay before them. Red and fiery glowed this flaming planet, and as ^hcy neared it, Nebule said : " This is a deserted world. Once in ages past it ^xemed with millions of inhabitants, learned and l\itelligent, but for centuries it has been decaying. Its primeval fires have taken complete possession, and are slowly destroying it by degrees. Already its oceans have been licked dry by the flames, while from the molten crevices of its fast melting crust, the sheeted fire spurts witli destroying energy, and laps the solid rocks back to their molten state. No EARTII-nOKX. ^J '!t ; I finds irnfiil :k, for lebule ander- be far nd dis- 5 spirit lerseli. • away deeps reign , like a \v they and its leaviniz: side ol neared, it in an before and as nast it led and caying. (session, already , while crust, l-ry, and te. No \V( Icomc rain drops fall from its heated and parched atmosphere, and those wide bands of lire are but the red reflections of its ever increasinp- heat fiiis j;lanet, havinj^ outlived its usefulness, is slowly rccolvinq; back into its ^ ' > 4 i If ♦ , J ■' ^34 EARTH-BORN. ** This is a large comet, and its tail is forminj^ at the rate of millions of miles per day," said Nebule. " It will pass this way, and you can get some idea of it by computing the time that it will take to reach the end. We are moving at the rate of fifty million miles per minu+e at present, while this comet is traveling at a speed of about two million miles per day." But as he spoke, a tremendous explosion shook the air and reverberated through space, while nebulous vapor surrounded them upon all sides, and flying aerolites and detonating meteors sped by in every direction. > • '/ CHAPTER IX. EVE FOUND IN LILITIl'S POWER. What had happened ? Evidently sonric disaster had overtaken one of the celestial bodies. But what was it, and how did it occur? " Quick, speed with me, and I will show you something which does not occur but once in ages," said Nebule, as he sped far away in advance. But they kept up with him, and together they rushed through space at the highest rate known to the spirit world, greater by far than the speed at- tained by the electric currents. Soon they emerged from auiidst the nebulous mass, and once again in free space they beheld a strange sight. The head of the comet had evidently disappeared, and the tail was scattering far and wide in every direction in broken masses of vapor. Around the wide open of limitless space, as far as the mind's eye could reach, were flying evidences of some fearful wreck. Here huge crags and mountains sailed by, with their rent sides disclosing wealth of mineral be- yond compare. There an upturned volcano, with streams of molten lava, and flame-lit interior clinging to it, sped swiftly into space. What was this ? Yes, it was the remnants of a once wonderful temple, fashioned by the hand of man, and here, indeed, were the bodies of men themselves, blackened and charred, but still men, dismembered relics of a dethroned world. Suddenly they came 135 ml ' 1 ; ii \ t« ;li|l ■' '^'i 136 KAR'lII-liOKN. upon a solitary spirit, and as hv joined them Nebulc asked : " Is this the end of Amar, and her time has come ? " *' Amar has gone to join the worlds of the past," said the new spirit, " and with her perished all her inhabitants." " And what happened ? Did the comet strike the ill-fated planet?" said Nebule. " No, but six days ago the comet passed by Amar, and so close that its influence overcame the regular motion of that world, rolling her waters over the fire pits. For six da3's have the waters fought the fires, and at last they flooded the interior mass. You know the story, how the Steam King formed and blew the planet to destruction, as you have just par- tially witnessed. Its identity is lost, its people are scattered, and their spirits are now doubtless as I am, seeking a new sphere. The comet itself has been destroyed by the concussion, and its vapors dis- sipated. Farewell! Amar! Farewell! Spirits," and the new comer sped into space as quickly as he came. " What shall we call you ? " cried Adrian. And far away in the realms of space, like a soft melody from a falling star, came the reply : " I am Amarite. Farewell ! " Amid the chaos around them and the evidences of general destruction, the three spirits sped onward. "Where was Amar?" asked PhiHp, and Nebule replied : '' Amar circled around another sun than these planets we have seen. Swerved from her course by the attraction of Neptune she drifted into the orbit of this comet, and destruction met both. Amar has been doomed for years, for had not this end over- fake her ] haps '^ "I EARTir-HOkX. ^7 taken her, then in time Uranus would have crossed her patnway, and both planets ^vould have been per- haps destroyed to<^ether." ** How far are we from Uranus?" replied Philip. " Uranus, the delui^^ed globe, is yet about one billion miles distant, while Neptune is still farther away by nearly two billion four million miles, as Ave travel." " A.nd how soon will we reach Neptune ? " inquired Adrian. " At once, if you wish it," replied Nebule. " But I thought you would prefer to see the other planets on our way, and so delayed." " True, we would like to see them all. But is this Uranus ? This dark and watery world that we are nearing?" said Philip, joining in. " This is Uranus. Once a teeming world with millions of beings, now a vast wilderness of water. Not a blot of land shows its head above tlie surface of its all-pervading ocean. Fathoms deep lie all her cities. Under the eddying waves, far down into the bosom of the sea, where naught but the zoophyte and the mollusc live, can be found the remains of that once grand and beautiful world, peopled by the Uranites. I have seen them in their prime, while the fires were yet burning within their world, and the spirit of life was abroad among its peoples. Now its fires are all extinguished, burnt out ere the flood time came, and the bloodless species alone can live in its chilled waters, whose depths the sunlight ne'er can reach." Nebule uttered these words in a melancholy tone as they poised above the lonesome world below, and viewed its waste of desolate waters, which stretched > It" ft 'ir" L.'" i*-. 138 KARTH-BORN. far and wide on every hand. Again he mournfully spoke : " No mammals here exist. Naught but the silent crustacean, the sluggish zoophyte, and the bloodless mollusc plough their solitary way through these chill waters. Where once the brightest intelligence reigned over all this grand planet, now but the first and most primitive elements of life exist. Little by little the higher grades of life were extinguished. First man, then all warm blooded mammals, then the cold veined fish expired. Soon even these prim- itive forms of life which now exist will disappear, and Uranus will remain a watery sepulcher among the worlds. A shaftless cemetery for its silent dead." Nebule's sorrowful tones strangely affected Philip and Adrian, as they hung for a moment longer over this deserted planet, and then their leader swiftly turned again upon his course, and they as swiftly followed. Turning back once to gaze upon the scenes they had passed, Adrian saw the glorious sun lighting with its splendor the cloud-capped worlds around them, but how very small it appeared now in comparison to its size as seen from Earth, and while its rays seemed to still shed welcome light, little warmth came from them. Already that re^ splendent orb was losing its power over the distant little worlds they were continually passing, and yet on they sped, while before them loomed the faintest twilight, ever increasing, until its sure end was total darkness. ** How far are we now from the sun ?" asked Adrian. " Nearly two billion miles," replied Nebula. KARTII-HORN. 139 " And docs it indeed influence all things in this space, and keep them whirling ever around it?" " All things within its radius for full three billion miles on either side are influenced by the sun," re- plied Nebule. " And outside this circle do other suns at once assume command, or are there vacant spaces where no influence controls ?" said Adrian. " There is a belt of utter darkness round the dominion of each sun into which if the planets range they stop in space, and gain no further motion till some passing world attracts them once again into the influence' of some sun," replied Nebule. " This is called the Circle of Silence, for within its radius there is naught but death and darkness. Night so black reigns over these starless circles, and silence so supreme holds sway, that many brave spirits have been lost within them for long periods of time, and some lost worlds have never reappeared from its sunless wastes." " And have you traversed this Circle of Silence around our sun ? " queried Adrian. " I have crossed it, but all spirits avoid it when they can," was the reply. " Like the seemmgly endless sands of your Earthly deserts, with no landmark to guide for the mortal. Like the boundless ocean of Uranus, with no land to steer by for the sailor, so is the Circle of Silence in its darkness and immensity to be shunned by the spirits, and especially by those who know but little of the Universe, for spirits, like mortals, are of all e^rades. Some are learned, some foolish — some good, some bad." " Then the freed spirit finds little improvement in -•*« m ' 140 KARTH-BORN. i k itself when released from the body, save that it is no longer held in leash," said Philip. " The free spirit is the same in all desires and shades of feeling as the trammeled one, save that the bod}^ being cast aside, those wishes which ap- pertain directly to it are lost, as a usual thing. But in some cases the Earthly envelope is still so strong that every wish, even regarding the body, still exists. Spirits learn in space as mortals do on Earth. It is not death of the body which teaches the spirit — it is life through successive years, and that spirit which sinks lower and lower upon Earth, can only rise here by eflort equal to the sloth which let it sink before," replied Ncbule. " Then there is a chance for spirits to redeem their errors," said Adrian. " There is a chance for all things to become better or worse," was the reply. ** And what becomes of those who grow worse in this state ? " said Philip. " They are given opportunities to improve by taking new lives and forms in other worlds, where their past here and elsewhere is forgotten, and where perchance brighter circumvStances may lead them to improvement and redemption in the end. It may take many successive lives, and millions of years to save some spirits, but it is a depraved spirit indeed that has not some germ of good which may in time redeem it," was the reply. They sped along in silence after these remarks, Philip and Adrian looking w4th wonder upon th'^ many strange sights which space afforded. Far i '. the distance could be seen nebulous comets, whi! nearer and around them floated numberless aerolite ; TM h EARTH-BORN. 141 and meteors. Small miniature worlds were seen, which might have been the relics of some larger planet. Yet they had seen but one fleeing spirit, Amarite, since leaving Mars. ** Where do all the spirits keep themselves, Neb- ule? We of Earth think of me unnumbered billions of mortals who have died, and wonder where their many spirits go. And other worlds besides our own iidd to their number, yet we have seen but few," said Philip. " There are but comparatively few spirits in space," said Nebule, " for as one body dies the spirit generally enters another shortly after, if not in the same world, then in some other. When it becomes necessary to populate one world, the surplus popu- lation is drawn from another. Thus in pestilence, in war, in famine, in deluge, and in many other ways are races swept from one sphere to the other." " But we have seen no populated globe save Earth since leaving it," said Philip. " No. You will in this solar system find but one sphere populated by humanity. Jupiter is the home of the highest free spirits, Earth of mortals, and the other planets are either decaying after a past civilization, or, like Mars, Venus and Mercury, are preparing for a new one in succession, as Earth in turn becomes depopulated and useless," replied Nebule. " Which of the worlds now forming in this system is the nearest ready for humanity?" asked Philip. '' Venus is nearing the time when mortal man can find a home there," replied Nebule. " And the populated worlds — are they in other systems, beyond the Circle of Silence ? How then t <' \'M i -m T42 KAKTII-BORX. do spirits cross from Earth to these planets?" asked Adrian, joining in the conversation. " They are always "uder the guidance of a leader who knows the way," replied Nebule, ** and yet even then they are often lost in its blackness, for spirits are not infallible, and newly entered ones make many mistakes. What would you have done, had I not been with you, for instance. You might have wan- dered over every planet and asteroid in this system before finding Eve in Neptune." " True," replied Adrian, " and I wish we were at Neptune now." " We are at Neptune," was the reply. " See yonder large world before you in the twilight?" They looked, and saw before them a world of snow and ice — a veritable land of winter in its severest forms. Not a tree, or a shrub. Not a living thing. Not a particle of land or water lay before them, but waste after waste of huge and mountainous glaciers, cones of ice and fields of snow, untrodden for ages, appeared to their view. ** This is Neptune, the oldest and darkest of these solar worlds," said Nebule sadly. " Once this great planet floated grandly round the life inspiring sun, nearer by two billion seven hundred million miles, than she now is to that splendid orb of heat and light. Now she is Avell nigh beyond its influence, and is slowly but surely creeping toward the Circle of Silence, which will sooner or later engulf her in never ending night. Here our journey ends, and Eve is found." *' Where does she linger in these wastes of snow ? " eagerly and yet sadly inquired Adrian. The enthusiasm with which he had entered upon Earth-hor>^. M3 the search ^or Eve had vanished in tlic contcmphition of the chill world about him, but the deep love he Ic It for his Earth-encompassed mother, and his *^reat yearning to succor and comfort her, were intensified Icn-fold by his knowledi^e of her history and sur- roundings, wSo it was with feelings of mingled joy iind sadnCvSS that he heard Nebule's reply : " Follow me a little longer, and I v.-ill lead you to her side." It seemed but a few moments later when the three alighted upon what was evidently the loftiest peak in that wasted world. Long years ago it had been volcanic, but for ages its fires had been extinct, and now the yawning crater into whose pit the)^ gazed was hung with festoons of gigantic icicles for fathom- less miles in depth. Huge glaciers swept majesti- cally down into that wide abyss, coldly beautiful and clear, while the wintry winds of that frozen world eddied the never melting snov/ flakes from side to side over their calm bosoms. Between these huge glaciers yawned vast crevasses formed centuries before, when the dying fires made their last feeble effort to overcome their encroaching enemy, the de- stroying mountains of ice, and served but to detach liuge blocks in places, leaving the yawning rent be- side them to denote the dying effort. Down, down, into that vast crate;; of ice they iloated, watching the crystal sides of the pure and precipitous glaciers in the semi-twilight, and noting how deep and grand a cavern the Fire King had made for his home ere the Ice King drove him forth, until the)^ came midway in the abyss to a huge chasm in the side of one of the immense glaciers. Entering it, they saw in its cavernous interior, with the crystal 144 rAirrii-iJoKN'. I i I icicles sJiliiiii^ clear and cokl alnuit them, and the faintly falling snow flakes cddyin^i^ around their forms, the heautilid object of their search, Eve, Avhilc beside her, as in all the centuries past, stood her dark and coniniandinj;- rival, I.ilith, \vearin,i; still her crown ol tlie blazinij^ sun. Fair and beautiful as a dream of charming woman- hood stood Eve, her tender, loving eyes turned ever upon Adrian, with a depth of sadness in them that stirred him throiijjfh and throuiih his entire bein<»:, yet, he could not spring to meet her, but stood wondering and fearing by her side, longing, yet unable to comfort or address her. Then Lilith, in her dark, commanding beauty, spoke : " Adrian, born of the Earth, and under the rule as yet of Terrasal, my Father, enveloped still in semi- Earthly Spirit, what would you here?" And as in a dream, while to his senses the voice seemed far away in space, he replied : " I came to seek the mother of my childhood — she who stands beside you." A smile of triumphant power rested upon the full and sensuous lips of the beautiful incarnation of Earth, while her dark eyes pierced the spirit of Adrian through and through, as she replied : " You \vere warned not to follow — yet you came. You were told that content would not crown your meeting — yet you sought her. In all the weary years since faithless Adam cast aside my love and t^jiiderness, sending me forth in wretchedness and never dying pain, together with my beautiful boy, the child of the twin spirits, God-born Adam and Earth-Born Lilith, in all these ages, you alone have i:Ak'iFf-iu)kN'. '45 SMiiij^ht and found her ore your time. Arc you con- tent? The mystery of luiman life is unfolded before you. Are you satisfied ? Would you know more? Then seek for Cain, once my cherish^'d child of Earth, wiio slew the offsprini; of the Ood-born twain, faithless Adam and beautiful Eve, and leaving Abel in the dust, sou<;ht again the haunts of his true peo- ple, the children of Earth. Against the God-born we were then arrayed, against them still we ever wage the unequal hght. So long as Earth exists — so long \vc battle. Child of Earth, Eve will ne'er be aught to you again." As ' she ceased, Nebule mournfully addressed her : " Lilith, Daughter of Terrasal Mother of Cain, know you not that in the end the true spirit of the God-born will triumph over you — that you and yours will meet annihilation in the combat? What then will avail your vengeance, when the power you pos- sess falls from you, and the harvest you sow shall be reaped ? ** And Lilith turned her flashing eyes upon the an- cient spirit uiid replied : " Nebule, God-born spirit of a world that has fled, more ancient than the spheres themselves, you know well that the Daughter of Terrasal fears no end that awaits her ? When the beautiful Earth grov/s weary —when its lengthened race is run — then will Terra- sal, Cain and Lilith yield to the power which shall o'erwhelm them. But while the days of Earth still linger, while its races of men exist, we will claim them, ever, ever, and over their lives our influence throw. None shall escape us that are Earth-Born, over them all we hold our sway." 9 N jt:; VMi ' I i* 14^ EARTH-BORN. " Lilith, true Daughter of Terrasal, has not your vengeance on Eve been sated? Shall not her spirit return to Earth ?" said Philip. And Lilith answered : " Spirit, shorn of all Eartn-Born influence, know that Eve remains with me of her own desire. She would not flee from me, even to speed back with Adrian. When the round of time arrives, Eve and Lilith will both return. Until then let us rest in peace and solitude. Here in this dead world, this sepulcher of a long forgotten past, we will wait to- gether till the call of my Father brings us again to the land of the living. " Flee back to Earth scenes, Adrian. In them for- get your birthright." " Lilith, have you no pity ? Finding Eve, must I leave her ? When shall we meet again ?" Slowly and painfully, held under the mesmeric gazt of those flashing black orbs, Adrian spoke, his mournful eyes fixed upon Eve with a tenderness and love so great that it would seem even Lilith would relent. But with measured coldness she replied : " Bring back to me my Adam, loving as first I knew him. Bring back Cain in his beauty, innocent as in his youth. Then you can talk of pity from Lilith toward the God-born spirits which dwell in the children of men. We may meet upon Earth in the future. Until then, seek us not." " Since you decree it, and are powerful, I will | leave, as commanded. But ere I go, tell me, Lilith, what has become of my father, who crossed into space with Eve ? " " The Count, thy father, is living. Filled with no dread of the future. Knowing no fear of the present, 1 ' \ 9iV!k EAUTII-BORX. 147 he entered the service of Tcrrasal, and is now beyond thy reach." "Can I not then assist him?" said Adrian in his sorrow. '' He is beyo.id thy assistance. Scclv him not in his research If he should break his shackles, vou will meet him again on Earth." " Farewell ! Eve, my beautiful mother. Farewell I Lilith, Daughter of Terrasal. I will search the worlds for knowledge, and return in power to you." " Farewell ! Earth-Born, yet part God-born. Search the worlds; but know that never can the power of man draw Eve from me without I will it," and the dark eyes haughtily challenged the speaker. " Farewell ! my Adrian," softly fell from the lips of Eve, like a whisper from the shadows of that snow- bound cavern. Theny v/hile the snow flakes gently fell around the I two figures, and the twilight seemed to deepen in that ice-encompassed cavern, with one last, loving look at his beautiful mother, Adrian turned sadly away with his two friends, bidding farewell to the scene. Quickly they mounted that vast, precipitous abyss, and once more they found themselves upon its rim, surveying the desolation of ice and snow around them. "Ah, Nebule," cried Adrian in his anguish, " do you think Eve will return to Earth ? Cannot the Universe give me power to free her ? " " She will return when Lilith permits it,' was the reply. "And I cannot assist or comfort her? Is there no I knowledge that will aid me?" "You can do nothing to change her condition." I ■ > ii: il] y. ,iK 148 EARTH-BORN. « ' " And my father, also, is beyond my assistance ? " inquired Adrian mournfully. " He does not need it. He would not thank you for it," was the reply. " Philip, shall we return to Earth together? " ques- tioned Adrian, '' or remain in space ? I can tell Minotti and then come back." " I w411 return to Earth with you Adrian, but never again will I inhabit the body I have cast aside,' replied Philip. *' I will wander a free spirit over the Universe, and be near to you if you wish." ** I wish it most sincerely, for I will need you more than ever upon our return," replied Adrian sadly. " Will you return at once," asked Nebule, " or shall we wander farther into space ? Shall we visit Venus aad Mercury ere you go?" " I would once more return to Earth and quickly, if it is also Philip's wish," snid Adrian. " Once there, I trust that Eve will discover a way to come back, or that I can find means to assist her ? " " Would you not enter the Circle of Silence ere you return ? " said Nebule. ** My spirit shuns that dark and silent circle," an- swered Adrian, "as if some disaster forshadowed my entrance into it." " Then beware of entering it," replied Nebule, " and we will not attempt it. Look far to tha East, and see that dimly shining planet, small, but serene. That is Earth, nearly two billion seven hundred million miles away. See the grand and distant sun, shining like a glorious star in space, unable to shed its warmth and brightness on this world of desolation] and death. You have heard of a deluge of Earth, but ere we go, follow me to a scene of destruction! EARTH-BORN. 149 here, and witness what a frozen world possessed ere the flood and the ice encompassed her." As he spoke, Nebule sped away, and the friends followed him. On and on they went — over the wastes of snow and ice — over the hi^h and frozen peaks — away into the land of twilight and of death. Soon they came to a seeming valley, miles in extent, and down they sped into it. Down they went — through the cold blue ice — through the frozen waters —till at last they stood beside an ancient city. Large and massive temples graced it, grand and beautiful buildings surrounded them upon every hand. Wide streets led through it, while trees and plants beauti- fied it upon all sides. Yet it lay fathoms deep in a frozen sea. '' This was the wonderful citv of Hora. Once its people worshipped the beautiful sun, in whose warm light they breathed an atmosphe/e balmy and delight- ful. Come with me to their chief temple, and look upon a lost people." Nebule led, and they soon found themselves in a vast amphitheatre, filled to overflowing with a large concourse of people — men, women and children — frozen in the cold, blue ice, as they sat or stood, with every feature distinct and perfect, denoting in most cases fear and terror. They were a swarthy race, dark haired and dark featured, and as the high priest stood and exorted them not to fear, it would seem the deluge over- whelmed them and kept ther* where they rested. Every garment was perfect, every detail correct. The wide, staring eyes, the gasping lips, the dilated nostril, the clenched hand, denoted that death had been sudden, but that life had made an effort ere I'm 150 EARTTI-BORN. departing. It was a fearful sight, and Adrian could almost imagine he heard a great moan from the assembled multitude as he gazed upon it. High above them in the arched dome they could see an emblazoned sun, of pure gold, shedding its dying and cold rays over the scene. " It is long years since the people of Hora assem- bled here to worship their Sun-God, and pray for deliverance from the encroaching water. Here many of them were overtaken by the cruel flood, and were trapped in their temple, while thousands were scattered in various directions in and about the city. First the water engulfed them, and imme- diately the freezing cold overtook the whole land, encasing it in a shroud of ice, so that no living thing remained upon this world to tell the tale. " These people lived and died ere the planet Earth was born to the brotherhood of worlds. Years hence they will still remain, frozen in these ice- bound depths. No decaying influence ere can reach them while the cruel ice surrounds them, and as none of the influences which disturb the living planets are present in Neptune, it will drift into the Circle of Silence with its frozen dead, remaining there for ages. " Their land was near to the resplendent sun when these people assembled to worship it as a deity, but now their world has drifted far into the outer edge of" their Sun-God, while many of their spirits still live in other worlds and other bodies." Nebule bade them follow him, as he ceased speak- ing, and together they wandered through the streets and buildings of Hora. Everywhere they met the same evidences of a life long since extinct, yet Avon- KARTH-BORN. 151 derfully preserved. For miles they wandered into the dwellings, into the temples, everywhere. They found sleepers frozen in their couches, servants frozen in the kitchens, while animals were frozen in the yards, and mingled with the bodies of their mas- ters, standing or lying beside them. Evidently the- deluge had well-nigh turned to ice at once upon its appcaranc % and so Nebule informed them. It was a strange sight thus to gaze upon a civiliza- tion so fearfully present, yet so ancient. Many of the buildings were magnificent and immense, as grand as the finest that Earth could boast of in his- tory, and they wondered at it. " Think not that your little Earth is the grandest world in existence, that it has advanced beyond all others, and that your present age is the greatest of the Universe. Time but repeats itself, and in their day the peoples of Neptune surpassed you in some things. There is nothing new in your planet that had not made its appearance at some time in the his- tory of this. So be not proud above your station. Do not think you lead all Creation. < " Spirits, it is true, progress with every age, but the ranks of the highest who leave for eternity are quickly filled by the next in turn, and so it ever has been. Even to-day, look at the dense ignorance that prevails among millions of your people, and ask if they are nearer to perfection in this age than in the earliest of your history. " In their day, this people thought their world land themselves at the head of all worlds and all peoples. It is a common mistake, made by finite minds, who know not the past of other worlds or the Ihiturc cf their own. More knowledge has been lost ■•(i!X\im''U Hif & • :fB 132 EAkTM-noRN. in many things than your people of Earth possess to-day." Nebule ceased speakini^^, and his words impressed the two listeners with tlieir wisdom, which sprani^ from experience. And now they entered the palace of the kini^;, or highest ruler over the land. The magnificent struct- ure was built of purest marble, inlaid at regular intervals with onyx, jasper, porphyry, and polished agate, while adornments of silver and gold were plentiful throughout the furnishings of the interior hallway. Everything about this palace denoted great wealth and fine taste. Servants clad in gorgeous liveries lounged about in numbers, seemingly careless of their fate durini,^ the time confusion reigned in Hora. Curtains ot richest texture hung before the entrances to the ele- gantly furnished apartments. Statuary graced the hallways, and works of art upon canvas were many and elaborate. They entered the apartment of the King, and there, sitting in state, with his counsellors around him, they saw a kingly and commanding presence. Dark featured and dark haired, like his people, of massive frame and intellectual countenance, he sat a lord among his advisers. No shade of fear crossed his handsome face, and like his household he had met death bravely. On the friends passed, into the next apartment, the chamber of the Queen, and there, upon a richly furnished conch, lay the highest ladv of the land, the wife of the dark haired ruler, Ahar. Adrian and Philip noted the beauty of the form, clad in richest silks, and both started in astonishment KAKTll-DOUX. 153 r.;, they gazed upon the face. It was the face of Eve, yet not of Eve. It was a beautiful, charming face, ;;t! Ikingly handsome in every line, and so much like K\ e that one might hav thought them inseparably connected, yet a closer examination revealed that the lips were more sensuous, the entire face less spiritual, more animal, than Eve's. But the wonderful resem- blance — how came it.^ And as they gazed, N'=*bule spoke : " Wonder not at the strange resemblance between Elcne and Eve, for one is the chastened, refined ideal of the other. Before you, frozen in the ice of centu- ries, beautiful as in life, is the casket which Eve once inhabited centuries ere she entered Jupiter and a liii^her life. Here she was a lovely woman endowed with the sensuous beauty of her time, fairer by far than her dark haired sisters, and beloved by all her people. King Ahar made her his queen, and together tliey ruled over one-half of the known world of Nep- tune, whose principalities and kingdoms bowed be- fore them." " And does Eve return to Neptune to visit this once beautiful city, the scene of her former life, and stand beside this frozen body, as we stand ? " asked Adrian, wonderingly " Eve has visited this scene many times in sadness and repentance. Sadness that her round of life, once completed, is again counted among the unfinished rounds. Repentance that so much of Earth clings to her spirit still, that ages will be required to purify it from all Earthly thoughts and wishe§." Nebule spoke sadly. " And is it absolutely necessary that all wishes of Earth be lost ere the free spirit can gain an ever- fir" ! '*! ' EARTH-BORN. h lasting home in Jupiter, and be at rest?" inquired Adrian. ** It is absolutely necessary," replied Nebiilc. ** though some may i^ain entrance there on trial, per- chance, with a little Earthliness still clinging to them." "And has Eve lived through other worlds than Earth and Neptune? " questioned Adrian. " Eve has lived through all the known worlds of this S3^stem which held life," apswered Nebule. " And have othe^ worlds traces of her still in this wise?" rsked Adrian, pointing to the body. ** No worldij save Earth nnd Neptune hold such relicw," replied Nebule. " In other \*orlds the relics of both cities and inhabitants luivc long since been destroyed, and mingle with the elements which gave them sustenance. The ore which v/armed them now destroys — the water which quenched and cooled their now o'erwhelms. But for the preserving ice in this suiiiess sphere, all traces of them here would centuries since have disappeared." '* Since the fires of Neptune are quenched, and its waters are frozen, what then is its interior?" asked Philip, changing the conversation. " Its interior is one vast cavern of cooled lava, scoria and cinder," was the reply, ** for as the molten mass cooled it shrunk, clinging ever to the sides of the shell, and finallv leaving* an imme:ise vacant space throughout the centre of this globe. Why do you ask?" *' i was wondering if it were ice inside as well as out," replied Philip, '* and thinking that some day I would visit the interior of this, one of the most ancient of worlds." .i/^ KARTIl-noUN. ^55 "The free spirit can visit any place it desires," replied Nchiilc. "Neitlier fire or water, solid or liciuid, can deter it. It ciite::". l!ir<)ii<;li the solid walls, and into the secret iccessesc^f the most hid- den places. Nothing can (Jifjicv it save the power of a stronger spirit." " And is it true that a free spirit can drive another, weaker one out of the body it inhabits, and take pos- session of that body ?" asked Adiian. " It is frequently done. Have you not read in 3()ur learn^id books how the exorcists of old sent forth the spirits which had taken possession of men? Have you seen in your experience the spirit of some companion slowly change within him, so that within a few months you would not know him for the same man ? This is an evidence of such posses- sion. Sometimes it takes a spirit years to gain pos- session, sometimes it gains it at once, but the change can always be noticed by the careful observer." " And what becomes of the spirit thus driven forth?" asked Adrian. " It in t'-irn enters another body, either through (hiving out the spirit, or by entering the newly born," said Nebule. " Then there is a constant struggle going on be- tween the spirits who inhabit the body and the spirits wdio are free," said Philip, joining in. " On Earth there is a constant struggle between everything Earthly, and as the spirits there are gen- erally encased in their Earthly, gaseous covering, they are erngaged in this struggle. Since the v^orld bec) hasty. If you follow this spirit into the Circle ( ! Silence, how will we return ? Our wishes will i ::\ e little avail there, in the dead, negative influence oi that circle, where few thinijs are effective." " And will you not come with me, Philip, if I go to lind the Count ? We have no ties which bind us. Why should we hesitate ? " I M i6o EARTH-BORxN. " Where you go I will follow," replied Philip, "even to another chain of worlds." Adrian hesitated, thought deeply for a few mo- ments, and then asked : " Can we return at once, after seeing the Count ? " '' At once, he says, if you desire," replied the new comer. • " Then we will go. But tell me, ere we start, how did you know me, and my name? " said Adrian. " I have seen you many times on Earth," was the reply. " And was it your influence, then, which I so often felt at the chateau, and thought was Eve's ? " " It may have been, for it was there I saw you," was the sad reply. " And Count Balzac sent you ? ' " He surely sent me." " And now lead on, and we will follow," said Adrian, " but first give me some sign that I may indeed know you came from the Count, my father." " He bade me tell you that the sarcophagus con- tained but the shell, while I could lead you to the one who left that habitation behind, and cares not to re-enter it. He bade me say to you that Lai Dliiir could not harm you here, that Tuaa could be oroui^ht to true prophecy, and Adrian to his own, through the Count, who awaits you." " And said he nau^^ht of her ? " " Nothing," anr' a slight frown flitted across the stranger's lovely brow as she answered. " *Strange," muttered Adrian, " and yet all things are strange." " Lead on," he saM, and as he spoke, they leit the world of Neptune, and sped througli space toward the Circle ot Silence, EARTH-BORN. l6l On they went, on and ever onward, until finally they entered that dark circle where everything seemed silent as the tomb. Adrian and Philip kept close together and followed where the stranger led for hours it seemed, and yet no word was spoken, so oppressed were they by the silence and the black- ness which surrounded them. Suddenly they missed their leader, and in vain they called and searched. They were lost in that dark circle, and how to win their way back they knew not. u :d '! m I I 't ••):. ^ .V'*." i -V CHAPTER X. r.ArK K) l.AKTII — THE IJODIKS MISSING. Five years have passed since Philip and Adrian last saw the light of even the smallest star. For days and weeks they had wandered, sonic- times reaching a stationary aerolite or world, hut none were peopled, all were deserted. Weeks lengthened into months, and months into years, ami when they finally emerged from the darkness :\[v.\ saw once more a faip.t ray of sunlight gUmmciini; from afar, and caught sight of the starry woilds again, five years of Earth's time had elapsed. INleantimc Adrian had learned m.;ch from Pliilip, who imparted to him all the vast information he possessed and told him many things he had here- tofore kept secret. Adrian was now as well in- formed as Philip, his teacher, upon most points, though he had invariably refused to tell him of that secret order. '*At last ! At last!" said Adrian joyfully, ar thev emerged from utter darkness and sped straight toward the sun. *' We are free again," answered Philip, *' and thank- ful I am to say it. 1 wonder how K>ng we have been absent ? It seems a lifetime." **Aye, that it does," answered Adrian, " I hope that Minotti still lives upon Earth, and guards the bodies left in his charge. Long ere this he must 162 KAUTII-llOKN. ""'3 have ^ivcn us uj), and perhaps he has crossed into space." '* I trust that lie vStill Hves, and for your sake that lli^ shell you left behind is safely guarded. As for ill'., I shall never again enter my old body, even should it be ready to receive me." '' I wonder that we have never been able to dis- cover why it was that Vera led us astray into the (hirkness. She was as beautiful as the sunlight to nic now, yet she left us." " Let all thoughts of her pass from you, Adrian. Often have you spoken of her in admiration, even alter the years of almost annihilation she led us into." " But she may have been compelled to leave us, who knows, or may have lost us accidentally." " Save your excuses. If we can but now reach Earth safely, and find things as they were when we left, I will perhaps in time forgive her." " I have forgiven her already," replied Adrian, "and I would that I could see her again." " You may, to your sorrow," was the fore: oding reply. Swiftly they sped in their flight, and ere long they caught sight of Saturn and his rings, but Earth they could not see, as far as they gazed over the wide Universe. Closely they scanned each star and world they passed, but neither Jupiter or Earth were visible. On and ever onward they sped, until they nearcd the splendid sun, and though they felt nothing ot it, still they could tell that it was shedding such scorch- • ino- rays in this close proximity that everything in tlie way of matter melted sooner or later under the P m 11).; ^'^M ,# ■-■ 164 liAKTII-UORN. fierce heat. Lookinii^ at it they could see that it was a molten mass at white heat, incandescent, and seem- ingly liquid, yet an immense ball ol living lire. Closely they ilew toward it, noticing all the habi- tants of space, the aerolites, and meteors, swing around and around the sun and hnally dive into it and become immediately absorbed. So great was the attraction, that for a circuit of many thousand miles, no celestial inhabitant was safe from annihi- lation in this manner. Philip remarked that the sun might w^ell be called both the life-giver and life-anni- hilator of the solar systems. If worlds reached too near it, they were absorbed, and if they ranged at too great a distance they were uninhabitable and doomed. ** The sun is 1 grand taskmaster," said he. " Just think how it keeps all the other bodies spinning around it, and what punishment is meted out to those who approach either too near or range too far away." And now they have finally passed this orb, and to their joy saw Earth, and Jupiter, shining far away on the opposite side of the sun to which they had been traveling, and whose fierce light obscured them. In a little while they should again be on Earth, and even to Philip it was a glad thought. Space was so different to what he had pictured it, seemed so desolate and depopulated, that Earth was far preferable to this continual silence of the Universe. He had expected to find many spirits, and had met but very few, and some of those, at least, not par- ticularly desirable in his eyes. As for Adrian, he was anxious tp return to Earth, i:Al;'lli.|i, i' i f f. CHAPTER XL THE MYSTERY OF THE CATACOMBS. ''And now for St. Sulpice," cried Philip. ''Aye," answered Adrian, ''now for St. Sulpice." So they sped to the church, in search of the 1 odies taken from the Chateau Balzac, as they were firmly convinced that the priests of St. Sulpice had taken charge of all the remains. Soon they reached the elegant edifice of St. Sulpice, crowned with its double towers. As they looked upon its fluted columns, and the two liirve shells at the entrance, formerly containing h»jiy water, and presents to Francis I., from Venice, but now empty, for the commune no longer recognized the church, and sacked the sanctuaries for treasure, they sadly w^ondered where their experiment would end, and if they would indeed find what they were in search of here. Silently they entered the church. Not a soul was visible, and the stained glass windows reflected the outer light in dim and uncertain waves over the high and imposing altar, and the pictures of the Virgin and of the Saints looked over the scene with pitying faces and imposing solemnity. They looked everywhere for some evidence that would give them a clew to the discovery of that which they sought, but after hours of patient search were ready to give up for the present, and seek the aid of living man, when suddenly a priest appeared, m m 1 82 EARTH-BORN. cautiously advancini^ throui^li the aisle, apparently in trepidation lest he should be discovered. ** Evidently this is one of the Royalist priests who will not acknowledge the new order of things," said Philip. Slowly the priest advanced, until reaching the altar, he bowed before it in silent prayer, his loose robe falling about him like a dark shroud, and his pale face silently uplifted to the Great Unknow- able. Suddenly Philip sank quietly beside him, and the emaciated face of the pale father lighted as he prayed, with that expression of beatitude and rapture which betokened peace and content within, however dark the world without. Philip Avaited till the prayer was ended, till his silent supplication was over, and then silently stand- ing before him looked steadfastly into his peaceful eyes, and laid his hands upon his forehead, in a few seconds the eyi ? grew set and fixed, the body rose to a standing posture, and the pale lips moved. *' What would you ? " he asked. " Lead us to where the dead of St. Sulpice rest," replied Philip. As he spoke the priest moved forward as il in sleep. They followed him around the altar, back to a little recess, and the priest pressed a secret spring. Before them a panel opened, and a stairway ap- peared. Silently their guide entered, closed the panel and ihey followed him down into the depths. Soon they arrived in what appeared to be a subter- ranean galler}^ hewn out of solid stone and leading into darkness beyond, while similar galleries opened out at irregular intervals, dark and forbidding. KAinii-nouv. 183 " Whom do you seek?" came from the pale lips of the priest. ** Minotti and the bodies he <^uarde(l in the Chateau Balzac," replied Philip. On they went, past the rows of j^^rinning skulls, past the piles of bones and dust, past hundreds of dark galleries leading none knew where, for they were in the catacombs of Paris, those ancient quar- ries which run underground for miles and miles, and into whose darkness but a few years before the authorities had deposited the bones from some of the city's cemeteries. The Revolutionists were at this time, and had been for seme months, dumping the bones of the dead into these silent galleries, and even the remains which had rested in the suppressed churches for years were frequently removed and placed here. Finally the priest stopped in a rock-hewn chamber, through many of which they had passed on their way, and pointed to a square shaped pile of rocks, sur- mounted by a crucifix. " They lie here," he muttered. " They are not all here," said Philip, a second later with intense anxiety, after entering the pile, and returning. *' No, not all," was the quiet response. *' And where are the others?" asked Philip, with surprise. " Follow me," said the priest, starting o(T, " Wait," commanded Philip. " Lift the stones carefully and let us first bring these bodies to the air. The priest went silently to woric, without a word, while they stood by and watched him. His tender ■l!| m ',..■ : ,, I :. %^: 1 84 KARTH-HOKN. hands, unused to such rough hibor, were cut and bleeding, after two hours' work disclosed the top of a rude coffin. " Remove the lid," Philip commanded, and as silently as before, the priest went to work, and finally the lid was raised. There, exposed to view, was the body of Adrian, just as he had left it, now nearly six years ago, life- like and uninjured. It appeared as though it was asleep, and as Adrian gazed upon it he felt again the desire of youth to live, and be one of the Earth. At once he entered into his Earthly shell, arose from the cofhn, and looked around him. Where was he, and who was this delicate looking, red handed priest, who stood so quietly, with set lips and staring eyes ? " Who are you ? " questioned Adrian, springing out of the coffin. The silent priest made no reply, and as Adrian ad- dressed him, Philip placed his hands upon his fore- head and said : " Soul of Earth, which clings to all things mortal, bend to the true spirit which controls," and as he spoke, Adrian's lips became as set, and his eyes as fixed as those of the priest beside him. ' t; : "Remember!" commanded Philip. ! " I remember," came from the set lips of Adrian. " Bring forth the rest," said Philip. ' ■ Adrian assisted the priest to lift the empty coffin, exposing the lid of a second one, which they soon removed, and there, lying before them, was the body of Philip, deformed, but lifelike. A curious expres- sion lingered about Philip's mouth, as he said : " Lift the coffin, and seek the other." ' EAKTU-ltORN. 185 By hard work they succeeded in getting out this coffin, and below appeared the lid of a third, which they finally removed, and there, strange to say, lay the counterpart of the beautiful Vera, who had led them into their five years' wanderings in the Circle of Silence. Philip alone examined the features. Adrian and the priest stared into nothingness Jls before. *' Who is this?" queried Philip. " One of those found in the chateau," replied the priest. " And how came she there?" " I know not," was the mechanical reply " Look and see." " All is dark before me, and no light appears," replied the priest. " Fix the lid upon the coflfin, and put this other silent body back in its place," commanded Philip. They placed the lid over the beautiful sleeper, and then laid the coffin containing Philip's body on top of it. Then the empty coffin which had contained Adrian's body was placed on the top as before, the lid put on, the stones built round and over it, the crucifix returned to its place, and the pile looked as undisturbed as when they first saw it. " Lead us to the others," said Philip, and the priest glided forward, Adrian following, Philip behind. On they went, and now it became apparent that that they were in a single, long, narrow passage, from which few galleries seemed to lead. Still on- ward, following the lead of that dreamy figure in front, on, it seemed, for miles. Finally the priest stopped before the seeming '1, •hK;;: i 11 ii'i'i IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) k A :/. 1.0 1.1 11.25 KiUl tgs |5o ^^ HIH S"^ IS :!f u& |2.o u mil 1.6 V] /^ ^> y /A HiotDgraphic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 873-4S03 1 86 EARTH-Br RN. solid wall of the right side of the gallery, and press- ing both hands upon a sort of incrustation in one of the rocks, a stone door swung inward, and a medium sized chamber was discovered. They entered, and there, lying in a coffin, calm and peaceful, was Minotti, a crucifix placed between his hands, and a smile of content resting upon his features. In another coffin by his side lay the figure, of a stranger, a powerfully built man, unusually large, with strong handsome features, and one would say that if the eyes were open they would be black and bold, so brave and daring appeared the face. It was a face of power, of ambition, of will, and yet, withal, a face to be avoided, for it was as cruel as it was hand- some and courageous. Who was this man ? Certainly one that Philip had never seen before in life. No priest, for he was dressed in the rank of a noble. " Whom we have here?" asked Philip. " Minotti and the evil genius," was the quiet reply. " But who is this man ? " " Under which name would you know him ? " asked the priest. '* French, Russian, Italian, Spanish, Egyptian, or Mohammedan. He is known to all." " Is this the so-called distiller of Life's Elixir, the alchemist whom it is said produces pure gold from his crucible, the charlatan Count " " Mention not his name in commanding power, lest he arise and greet you," calmly said the priest, in measured tones. Philip looked with renewed interest upon the reclining figure. By what circumstance had it been brought here and placed side by side with Minotti. Philip could not fathom it, try as he would. "I founc was t "A Balzai "It " Ar "C.n "Th but 3'o *'Di, to the '' Th '• An **W1 the ton Minott the bo( edge o ''WhI have strange "Th tomb," " Anc lor so n "The (liscove " And r^arth ? • e IvAkTH-lJORX. 187 ress- le of dium , and was ind a 3 of a large, Id say ;k and It was ithal, a 5 hand- lip had le was reply. him?" banish, all." :ir, the d from rer, lest -iest, in )()n the had it le with would. '* How came he here?" he commanded. " He was brou<^ht here, with Minotti. Both were found in the chateau," replied the priest. " Where are we ? " " Under the chapel of the palace at Versailles," was the reply. *' And does this gallery connect with the Chateau Balzac?" queried PhiHp. " It did at one time." " And with the tomb below it ?" " Yes, with the tomb." " Can we reach the chateau from here ? " " The entrance to the chateau has been blocked, but you can reach the tomb," was the reply. ** Did the priests of St. Sulpice block the entrance to the chateau?" *' They did," was the reply. *' And when ? " *' When they discovered that the entrance through the tomb led to the catacombs, and this they did when Minotti' ; body was found. The entrance was closed, the bodies removed, and the priests hoped all knowl- edge of the matter was lost to the outside world." " Where were the two bodies found which we have seen to-day — the strange woman and the stranger man ? " " They were found in the sarcophagus of the tomb," was the quiet reply. " And what became of those other bodies which for so many years occupied that sarcophagus ? " " They had fled into the world ere the tomb was discovered by the priests." " And do you know whether they still live on Harth?" ^ 1 88 EARTII-BOKN. " I know not. " " Lead us to the nearest exit," commanded Philip. The priest quietly left the rocky chamber, followed by Adrian and Philip, closed the stone door, led them a few steps farther, and they found themselves at the foot of a stairway leading upward, following which they emerged into the chapel of the Palace of Versailles a few moments later. The panel by which they entered the chapel con- sisted of a fine painting of the crucifixion, and as the priest slid it back into place, it could be seen that the chapel had been seldom used of late. In fact, since the departure of the unfortunate Louis XVL and his queen for Paris, surrounded by the mob, the chapel had fallen into disuse. Suddenly, reaching the altar, the priest stopped before it, at a sign from Philip, while Adrian halted at another sign. " What is your name ? " said Philip. " Father Le Blanc." " You are attached to the church of St. Sulpice, and are loyal to the Royal family." " I was attached to St. Sulpice, ere the Revolu- tionists suppressed all worship, and I am still loyal to the present Dauphin who will fill the place of Louis XVL" " Then you knew the king was beheaded in Paris to-day ? " " I saw it, escaped from the mob with difficulty, and reached St. Sulpice," replied the priest. " Then your life is not safe in Paris ? " " No man's life is safe there, much less that of a Royalist priest." " Have you no home ?" ♦ EARTM-IJORX. 189 " Since I was driven out three days ago — no." Philip, at a wave of the hand, brought Adrian to the priest's side, and then, placing his hands upon both their foreheads, they suddenly knelt before the altar, and in a moment Philip pressed his hands again to their heads, and they looked at each other with awakened intelligence in their eyes, mingled with curiosity. Seeing that they were in a sanctuary, and kneeling before the altar, in the twilight, both the priest and Adrian endeavored to account for their presence there in silence, for a few moments. Finally Adrian, at an utter loss to account for his position, but faintly recalling the face of the priest in a fleeting memory, said to his companion : " Father, forgive me, but I know not where I am. I cannot fathom how I came here. Can you en- lighten me? For a moment I thought I had seen you elsewhere, but it fades from me like a dream. How does it happen that we are here ? " " My son, I know not. Like yourself I seem to drift in useless speculation as to where I am, and how I arrived. This is not St. Sulpice, I know, and the scene is unfamiliar. I certainly have dreamed and entered here in sleep, unless, indeed, you helped me to this place unconscious, for I have been sorely troubled this day, and must have fainted." " What ! are you ill?" exclaimed Adrian, catching the priest in his arms as he swayed unsteadily upon his knees toward him. " I seem to be, in soul and body. My limbs fail me through fatigue, and my hands appear cut and bleeding. What mystery this is I know not, but I seem to have been the sport of the Evil One for i^'^ii iQO r.ARTH-RORX. days," replied the priest, his head falling upon Ad. rian's shoulder. Adrian carefully laid him down, and began a hur- ried search for some assistance. Rushing to the main entrance, he found it locked. There was nothing to do but try some other outlet, and with difficulty he managed to climb upon one of the sills, lift the beautiful stained glass window, and gaze out into space. Beyond him, in the twilight, he saw looming the grand Palace of Versailles, and as he looked, a flood of memories came to him, and all was clear up to the time he had partaken of those scintillating drops in the vinaigrette. What had happened since ? Were the coma drops taken yesterday, last year, or when ? How came he in the chapel at Versailles with this fainting priest ? These and other questioning thoughts ran through his brain as he anxiously looked out into the twilight, and endeavored to realize all that had taken place. It was useless. The thoughts escaped him and faded into nothingness at each fresh effort he made to pass the barrier raised by the taking of those wonderful drops. He remembered nothing that had occurred since. He had forgotten the quiet, fainting priest, and as this flashed across his memor}^ he turned again toward him, and saw that he had partially arisen and was kneeling in rapt prayer before the altar. How pale he seemed, and sad. Was this one of Minotti's friends? Perhaps he could tell something of the mystery that surrounded Minotti, even if he did not know much ? Seeing that nis condition had improved, Adrian " I tru turning t i^rom my heavily u workings •' But h basket to So dee and medi old man h " Wher. drew fron ! the explar of the rep I tites. At bruised ai feeling thii nation cou EARTH-BORN. 191 descended from the sill, r 1 was in the act of advancing toward the priest, v\ iien a sound of grat- ing keys struck sharply through the chapel, and in a moment an aij^ed form tottered through the aisle, bearing a small basket. Reaching the priest's side, the old man stopped, laid the basket beside the kneeling figure, and as silently tottered toward the entrance, without a word. Out of the door he went, his grey hair streaming in the breeze, and so quietly he cSme, so noiselessly he departed, that had it not been for the noise of the grating key, the basket, and the now open entrance, it would have passed for a hallucination. Adrian slowly and silently advanced toward the kneeling figure, and knelt quietly beside it. " Father," he said, " your prayer is answered." " I trust so, my son," replied the kneeling priest, turning toward Adrian, " but the gloom is not lifted from my soul, and the sorrows of my people weigh heavily upon me. I have prayed for light upon the workings of this day, and as yet find it not." *' But here is one answer," said Adrian, holding the basket toward him. So deeply had the priest been engaged in prayer and meditation, that the entrance and the exit of the old man had been unnoticed by him. "Where did you find it?" he asked, as Adrian drew from it a bottle of wine and some food, and as the explanation was given, the priest quietly partook of the repast, whic'a both enjoyed with keen appe- tites. At its conclusion, Adrian bound the priest's bruised and cut hands with the napkin, and then, feeling that the time had arri-'ed when some expla- nation could be attempted, he ^lA ) i:ir m 192 KAkTII-bUKN. " Father, we are in the chapel of the Palace at Ver- sailles." ^ " Then we are some distance from the mob of Paris," was the reply. "Are we prisoners ? " " Prisoners ! " exclaimed Adrian aghast. " No, why should we be ? The door is open, and this is a sanct- uary." " The mob care but little for sanctuaries in these days, my son, as you must know if you have been in Paris Ifttely. Now that Louis XVI. has been be- headed by — " " The King beheaded ! " "Aye, this morning, if my memory serves me rightly." " By whom ? " " The Jacobins." "And who are they ? " " My son, are you a native of this unhappy land and know not the Jacobins ? Who are you ? " " I am called Adrian Courcey, and I am a French- man, bred and born. Yet I know nothing of these things you mention." " Then perhaps you have been held a captive in some cell where news has been forbidden." " Perhaps I have," was the cautious reply, for Adrian perceived that some time had elapsed since he had taken that drop in the chateau, and as he could make no explanation, it was better to say as little as possible until he knew more of those whom he might meet. " You need not confide in me, my son, but if I can assist you I will do so gladly," said the priest, notic- ing the embarrassment which Adrian's speech par- tially admitted. EARTH-HORN. 193 Vcr- b of , why sanct- thesc 3en in ;n be- es me y land 'rench- these dve in |ly, for since as he say as whom If I can notic- :h par- '* You can assist me," was the grateful reply, " and if I can give you my confidence, I will do so at another time. For tKe present consider me one w hose past is a secret, and whose future is uncer- tain, but your friend if you wish it." " So let it be," was the reply. " Father Le Blanc I will be a friend to Adrian Courcey, without question of his past, till such lime as his confidence is willingly I given." " I thank you, my Father, and now can you tell mc lif you have ever met a certain priest, formerly of |the parish of St. Etienne du Mont, called Minotti ? " " I have met him," replied Le Blanc, with a sudden |start of surprise. " Can you tell me of his whereabouts ? " " He has been dead for nearly three years past," [answered the priest, eyeing Adrian closely. " Dead for nearly three years ! Impossible ? " ejacu- lated Adrian. " Not impossible, but true," replied the priest. He then gave Adrian all the information he pos- sessed about the matter, not omitting that Minotti's Ibody had been taken charge of by the priests of St. |Sulpice, and rested at that moment in the catacombs, md below their feet. What he did not tell, however, was that Minotti iad been deemed an apostate priest, and had, it was generally believed by his brethren, fallen into prac- jices forbidden by the church. Knowing so little of |\drian, he thought it best not to mention this to nm. until better acquaintance gave him more insight into his character, but the next question showed \i\m that Adrian knew more than he had sus- kcted. 'n 194 EARTII-UORN. " And were there other bodies found in the chateau ? " " Yes, there were several, and all were buried in the catacombs." " Strange," muttered Adrian, " very strange." " You may well say so," said the priest, for every- thing was strange connected with this most remark- able affair, so much so that Minotti was supposed to have fallen under the influence of some of those secret societies which have enveloped Europe in mystery and which the church has from the begin- ning fought most strenuously," and again he curiously eyed Adrian. " And will you tell me something of those secret societies ? " "I know but little concerning them," cautioush replied the priest, " but the principal society is called the Sons of Isis, and it has many branches, I am told." " Then you think Minotti was one of these mystics? ' " I am afraid he became impregnated with their views." " Why do you think so ? " " He long ago held converse with the mystic Count de St. Germain, and I am convinced believed that his claims to having lived in repeated ages was correct. Whether he went so far as to believe all that this strange man professed about being able to produce gold by alchemy, at will, and brew an elixir that should prolong life forever, if desired, in this body, I do not know. That Minotti believed in many strange things, I do know, and it is my belief that it was his pursuance of these things which led him finally to desert his parish, and take up a residence I " I had replied A " If the mind, prr efface thi perdition one's sou " Tell n soul to le; or even y forgetting soul or sp " You U Adrian as to avoid t\ I evidently I drift of th( Adrian i I particular [priest's pe KARTlI-nORK. «95 in the Chateau Ralzac, which itself was the home of the most ardent mystic of liis time, and who, they say, was impelled to commit suicide, and kill his beautiful wife, in some sudden mania enjj^endered by iiis study, or in despair at the loss of his fortune." " Are you sure he killed himself and his wife ? " " As certain of it as that I am here," replied the priest, earnestly. " Could you tell me anything of any especial mys- tical society that Count Balzac was interested in at the time of his death?" anxiously asked Adrian. " He had the reputation of belonging to all the societies of mystics then in existence. But why are you so inquisitive upon this point, my son ? " " I had an especial interest in Count Balzac's case," replied Adrian, quietly. " If these mystical ideas have taken root in your mind, pray here with me that the church will quickly efface them. I know of no surer road to eternal perdition than through the hold these ideas take upon Dne's soul," persuasively replied the priest. " Tell me one thing, Father. Is it possible for one's soul to leave the body for ci period of days, weeks, or even years, and return to and inhabit that body, forgetting everything that occurred meantime to the soul or spirit, and to the body ? " " You talk strangely," said the priest, looking at Adrian as if to read his thoughts, and speaking as if to avoid the question rather than answer it. He was evidently growing restless and uneasy under the drift of the conversation. Adrian noticed this with surprise, not seeing any particular reason for it, though he had seen the I priest's peculiar manner when speaking of Minotti . M'l 196 Karth-horn. and Count Balzac. This induced Adrian to continue the questioniiijr, for somehow he be^an to suspect that his companion knew more of this affair than he appeared willing to divulge, and if he did, it was important to get at it some way. But how? That was the question. " Then you do not believe it possible for such things to happen in this day and age ?" he asked, cautiously watching the priest's face for a clew. Le Blanc suddenly rose to his feet, and crossing his arms over his breast, replied : " You are a mystic, possibly an adept, yet you gave me no sign. I could not otherwise know you. To what branch do you belong ?" Adrian was silent at this turn of affairs, not know- ing just what reply to make. •* Speak, you can trust me. See the symbol," and as the priest spoke he bared his right arm. Indelibly imprinted upon it, with India ink, was the Veiled Sphynx, just over the muscle. " The Order of Isis is not yet conferred upon me," said the priest, pulling his sleeve over his arm again. " Now, you, who knew Minotti, who talk of the bodies in the chateau, and with whom I find myself alone in the chapel at Versailles, while this morning I was in Paris, and at St. Sulpice, who are you, and why did you bring me here?" A bold thought entered Adrian's mind, and he re- plied, proudly rising to his feet, and likewise folding his arms, as the priest had done : " I am Count Balzac !" The effect upon the priest was surprising. His| white face grew still paler in the advancing twilight, 1 he tottered a moment upon his feet, and then look- " The as he s\ ready to ping clo tones : " If yoi of her?" " Of wl for the v( beautiful " Of Ve five long ^ " You I [priest, w^ chapel wi I ling two f was the fa " I am r !if you thi land then h to the floo The wcc [young ma fainter as grip of in tacked hin insane. \^ relaxed hij sat watchi EAKTIMU )!<>;. >97 in^ Adrian s(|iiarely in the eyes, he fairly hissed between his trembling lips: ** You lie ! Count Balzac has been dead for years!" " And yet he lives and stands before you. I am Count Adrian Balzac I" " The son— at last — " muttered this strange priest, as he swayed back and forth in the twilight, as if ready to fall. But he recovered himself, and step- ping close to Adrian, he said, in low, concentrated tones: "If you are Count Adrian Balzac, what has become of her?" •* Of whom do you speak ? " asked Adrian coldly, for the very thought that this priest had known his beautiful mother was distasteful. " Of Vera. Of our peerless Priestess, who for over five long years has been with you." * " You are mad," said Adrian, recoiling from the priest, whose bright eyes gleamed in the dusky chapel with feverish excitement as he spoke, resemb- ling two fiery coals in a livid mask, so set and white was the face. " I am not mad," hissed the priest, " but 3^ou are, I if you think to hold our Priestess in your power," and then he made a spring for Adrian, and they rolled |to the floor in a fierce embrace. The weak priest was no match for the sinewy, lithe Ivoung man, and his struggles become fainter and fainter as Adrian's hand clutched his throat with a grip of iron, for he thought that a madman had at- tacked him, and that Le Blanc had suddenly become insane. When, however, the struggle ceased, and he relaxed his grip from the fainting man's throat, he sat watching him with a sort of curiosity, combined 198 li.ARTFT.nORN. with compassion, for the priest was weak, and trembling in every limb from fear, excitement, or rage, and Adrian could not fathom the motive, unless — unless — " You, Le Blanc, or whatever your name is, what had you to do with that secret society which ruined the Balzacs? Tell me," he thundered, rising to his feet, " or by the Black Magic which you practice, I will kill vou where you lie," and he placed his foot upon the pri'^st's breast and stood over him like an avenging Nemesis. Slowly and painfully the priest answered him, lying prone at his feet. " Those who would seek for fortunes fallen must look far above such as I. We, oi this circle, know nothing of such happenings. We obey and then forget." "Then whom do you obey ? " sternly questioned Adrian. The fallen priest slowly replied : " All who are powerful and command us." "But where is your chief — ^your ruler?" still fiercely questioned Adrian. " We never know our rulers. They are as im- ]< (.etrable to us as to you. We seldom know each other. We but act," painfully replied the priest. Adrian removed his foot from the fallen man's ch'^.st, and thought deeply for a few seconds. Here was a peculiar state of affairs, if true, and one thatj would puzzle him to find the solution of. While he thought, the priest stealthily arose and; glided toward the open door, but he was not quick enough for Adrian, who sprang forvvard and caught | his arm abruptly. He was none too soon. EARTH-BORN. 199 A stiletto dropped from the nerveless fingers as Adrian gripped the muscles of the wrist, and with a weak resistance, the priest was dragged back to the altar. Adrian lit a taper, and by its faint light, lost in the shadows of the large chapel, he again ques- tioned the tremblmg priest. '' Did you ever see the Count and Countess Balzac ? ' " Never, in life," was the faint reply. " And in death, then ? " " Yes, in death," was the slow answer. " But they are not dead ! " ejaculated Adrian, ter- rified by the priest's evident faith in his declaration. *' Then the world and I were both deceived," was the quiet reply. " All Paris saw them lying dead. I and others gazed upon them in their coffins." " This man evidently knows nothing of the truth," t^iought Adrian, watching his face closely as he questioned him, and he has been deceived about them as others were. After thinking a few mo- ments, he abruptly asked " Will you take me to the bodies found in the cha- teau ? I will release you then.' The priest thought a moment, without a word, and at the end, he simply said : *• Come." Adrian lit another taper, the priest took one, they entered the panel, and descended to the catacombs below. Adrian gripped the stiletto, which he had picked up when the priest dropped it, and carefully watched the figure in front of him as it advanced to the stone door in the side of the passage, and peered inside the rocky vault, beckoning him to follow. H^ w-\ 200 EARTH-BORN. stepped inside, as the priest entered, following him closely. There lay Minotti, and by his side the distin- guished looking stranger, whose face and figure were utterly unfamiliar to Adrian. While he was gazing upon it intently the priest suddenly sprang out of the door, and closed it after him, thus impris- oning Adrian in the vault. Just as the door closed, however, Adrian heard a shot, a cry, and then all was silent as the tomb. What had happened he could not tell, for the heavy stone door, chiseled from a single rock, completely shut out all further sounds. Something had oc- curred, but what? Adrian stood with quickened pulse and beating heart, waiting for some new de- velopment. But all was quiet as the grave. How long he waited he never knew, but suddenly his situation flashed upon him in all its significaut danger. He realized that if he would not be buried alive, it was necessary to at once get help from the outside, whatever that might be, whether thieves or assassins, mattered little. They could not offer a worse death than starvation in a dark vault of the catacombs. So Adrian called lustily, but the room alone gave back the hollow sound, and he soon realized that it would be useless to look for help from the outside. He had been neatly trapped by the strange priest. Seeing that he must help himself from the inside, as the only chance, and that also, before the taper was exhausted — he calculated it would burn four hours — he tried the solid door. It opened to the in- side, and so he was unable to move it, especially as jt had no handle whatever, and was fitted into thei KAkTlI-JjORN. 201 him istin- igure 3 was jrang npris- sard a tomb. heavy )letely ad oc- :kenef\ lew de- ddenly liftcaut ot be t help hether uld not ik vault lie gave that it ^tside. priest, inside, le taper rn four the in- [ially as ito the rock as a part of it. By gradually scraping away the edge, he might at last get a hold somewhere, and be able with the stiletto to pull it in. It was a chance — the only one. But wait — suppose he could try his power over it, fully mastered, in his studies. So placing his hands upon it he willed with all his strength — but to no purpose. Stone was a non-conductor, evidently, and magnetism was useless. So he set to work man- fully, scraping away a little of the rock casing, to reach the door with the point of his stiletto. He made some impression, but unfortunately broke the pomt off the weapon. This was a misfortune, and irreparable. He arose to his feet and looked around. Sud- denly his eyes fell upon the two figures. Perhaps he could find a knife about one of them. With the thought, he approached the strange figure, and sup- pressing his distaste, plunged his right hand into the coat, and began his search. i Not a sign of a weapon anywhere — but ah ! what is this ? And bringing it closely to the light he un- wound a small package, and — behold ! The minia- |ture of his beautiful mother, the Countess Lena, lEve, looked with pleading, loving, spiritual beauty |into his astonished eyes. How came it in this strange man's possession, and Iwhat were these cabalistic signs graven so numer- ously around the beautiful face, well nigh covering [the gold frame with their queer appearance and [bright, sparkling jewels ? Here was a mystery. What did it mean ? The characters were strange to Adrian, who knew l^nany '.anguages, but not these magic letters. 202 EARTH-noRN. Who was this man ? One of the secret brothers? Adrian hastily bared the man's right arm, but no sign of the Veiled Sphynx was found. Then he tore the velvet vest and frilled linen from the body, and there, over the stilled heart,, he saw the figure of the Veiled Isis deeply tattooed in India ink. This, then, was one of the Sons of Isis. One of the leaders in that strange and mystical band. And this was the sign by which they were known, which Philip would never disclose to him, in spite of all his questioning. Perhaps there was something more, and with eager fingers he felt around the body. Yes, there was a paper, and bringing it forth, Adrian unrolled it rapidly with trembling hands. " Faubourg St. Germaine, Pyramid 4. Amenophis." This was all that the paper contained which Adrian could decipher, though below it were more of the mystic letters, or sign3, seen around the frame of the portrait. Minotti may explain it. Can he awaken him ? Quickly he takes one hand of the priest, places his free hand upon the sleeper's forehead — bends his will steadily. He has not power sufficient. Then he utters the secret prayer to Nature. It is| still a failure. He can do nothing this way, and he must escape.] Minotti may have a knife. Quick, search with your trembling fingers. Aha ! found ! And with this pocket knife he| rapidly works at the door. Bitb; the stoi blade is again. Atlas Now . the little and the < Anothi yes, free But w] of the d pallid fac It is L whom ? Stoopir his breast "So p( publique !' This wr a lantern fly now w of the vau shadow. " Halt the Frencl colored c< him. " Who a " Adriar " Do yoi "He w: never saw -■o.:u\v EAKTII-BORN. 203 Bit by bit the small specks fall. Little by little the stone wears away under the steel. Now the blade is broken. Another is opened, and to work again. Thus for one hour — two hours — three. At last ! Now Adrian quickly catches the broken stiletto in the little notch he has made, gives a mighty effort, and the door moves. Another, and it swings inward, leaving him free-- yes, free ! But what is this? This quiet figure lying in front of the door with its priestly gown and its white, pallid face ? It is Le Blanc, dead, silent, murdered. But by whom ? Stooping over it, Adrian reads a paper pinned to his breast : " So perish all Royalist Priests. Vive la Re- publiqiie !'' This was all, and as Adrian raised himself he saw a lantern in the distance rapidly approaching. To fly now was impossible. He rapidly closed the door of the vault, and stepped a few paces back into the shadow. " Halt !" cried a harsh voice, and a figure, clad in the French uniform of the Life Guards, with a tri- colored cockade in his hat, rapidly strode toward him. " Who are you ?" " Adrian Courcey." " Do you know this priest ? " " He was my enemy, and strove to kill me. I never saw him till to-dav." ilr m '• L'o'low i::c.' CHAPTER XII. THE " SONS OF ISIS." Adrian followed the taciturn guide, it seemed for hours, without a word, until finally they reached a large room where were gathered a motly assembly of queer looking vagabonds, evidently of the lowest class. Some were stretched at full length on the floor, asleep. Others were engaged in card playing, and a half-dozen or so were sleepily listening to the har- angue of a red capped, evil visaged, poorly clothed vagabond, who was giving his experiences during the day, and narrating his wonderful deeds of prow- ess, and narrow escapes from the police. At sight of Adrian and his captor, some of the men banteringly addiessed his companion with cries of " Oho ! A capture ! " " The Gendarme has brought us a live prisoner of war." " Vive la Republique ! " " Vive les Voleurs ! " One or two bowed in mimic submission before him, while the majority went on with their gam- bling or other occupations, generally slumber, and: paid but little attention to the new arrivals. "You ma) laugh, my comrades, but there is or priest less since the Gendarme left you, and that oi is Le Blanc, who gave information of our band 1 >| 204 EARTH-BORN. 205 the police. I pursued him with some of you this morning, but he escaped in the crowd. To-night he sleeps in peace," growled the man, who now ttirew off his uniform, and appeared the true Parisian ras- cal that he was. " Aha ! Good ! And who is the gallant young man ?" said a wizen-faced old hunchback, as he peered into Adrian's face with an evil smile, " and how did you capture him ?" He laughed in ironical mirth. " Is he, too, a friend of the police and of Le Blanc?" " Not I," said Adrian, boldly, for he saw that he was in the midst of a band of those Parisian bandits who frequented the catacombs in these troublous times, and he knew that his safety could only be assured by complete renunciation of Le Blanc. " Your friend here did me a favor by his action, for the priest attempted to kill me." " I did not see you there till hours later," said his captor, suspiciously. " I was shut in a secret vault," replied Adrian. " Oho ! Another secret vault. These old galleries are full of them, and it was as well I found you, then, for you could not get out from these dark holes. You owe me for saving your life. Come, how much do you owe me ?" insinuatingly said his captor, while those who still lingered about them looked on with amused faces. Adrian made up his mind to deceive his captors, and gain a chance to escape. " I owe you much, and if you will come with me to the vault where I have been imprisoned, you can have all that it contains," was the bold reply. " And how much is that ?" " Enough to pay you for your trouble in guiding me to your friends." 206 EARTH-BORN. " But how much ? It's a long way back, and I wanjto know what it brings/' " It will pay you for your pains, but the exact amount I do not know." " Then we will go back to-morrow," growled the man, as he joined his comrades, furtively watching Adrian to see if he attempted to escape into the shadows. Adrian thought quickly at all times, and he re- solved to assume slumber, and then, if possible, slip away into the darkness at some time during the coming hours. It was always night in these dark caverns, and he pondered deeply, wondering how he could best guide himself should he plunge into their shadows. All the tales he had read or heard about the cata- combs rushed "nto his memory, as he lay upon some matting, and thought over his adventure. So many had been lost in its vast galleries, starved, never found, that he began to revolve in his mind the chances in favor of his escape, and they appeared few and small compared with those of being eternally entombed in these black passages and caverns. And yet he must escape, and discover the where- abouts of that band — but, wait, it is barely possible that some of these motly vagabonds may know something, and he arose with the thought, and care- fully studied the faces within his view. Nothing there but vice and crime, evidently. Then he walked to his captor, and stood watching the game in which he was engaged. It must have been nearly morning, he judged, as he looked at them, for they were almost alone in EiiKTH^BOlU; 267 their wakefulness, and slumber had fallen upon tlio rest generally. Suddenly his attention was riveted upon a dark faced, black eyed man, seemin<^ly an Italian, from his looks, who was sleepily watchin*^ the players, as he reclined upon a dirty mat near them. But it was not his face that attracted Adrian. No, that was ordinary, and stamped with the mark of villainy, but it was the figure of the Veiled Tphynx, tattooed upon his right arm, just over the muscle, with a bridle in its mouth. The curious tattooing showed plainly in the light, as he rested his head upon the other arm, and flung this one freely by his side. Here was, then, another member of that secret band, and Adrian slowly advanced toward him, and sat down by his side. Presently he quietly turned to the man, and pointing to the tattooing, said : " That is a queer looking piece of work. Could you tell me what it means, or what kind of an animal it is ? " The man sleepily turned toward him, and lazily replied : '' Yes, it is a queer looking thing, and a good many have asked me about it, but I never could find out how it got there, or what it was. P'rhaps you can tell me," and he laughed grimly, " for by the Holy Virgin, I can't tell you." " You mean that you don't care to," said Adrian, carelessly. " I mean that I don't know," he replied with a frown. " Dannamento I I wish the thing was out." He savagely slapped his hand over the spot to * I 1 i 1 1; ^- w \ ■ ) 11 208 EARTH-BORN. conceal it from view, and rolled over, closing his eyes as if weary and ready for sleep. Is this nman lying, thought Adrian, or can it be possible that he really knows nothing of this peculiar mark, and of those that use it. He pondered long over this, until finally the game was ended, and his captor said : " Don't you sleep, or are you always open-eyed ?'* The man's companions laughed, it seemed with unnecessary mirth, until finally one said : " Search him now, awake. You'll get what he has, anyway," and he laughed merrily at his sugges- tion. ^ " Hand over," said the captor. " I have nothing," replied Adrian, uneasily. He did not in any event propose to lose that portrait and the piece of paper, " out you will be well repaid to-morrow." " As you please," returned the other, turning aside with a wink at his companions, as much as to say, " Wait till he is asleep ; it is less trouble." Adrian caught the wink, but did not exactly un- derstand its purport. He became uneasy and nervous, and imagined that half those who slum- bered were awake, waiting to catch him asleep, and this thought effectually banished slumber from his eyes. The Italian rolled uneasily upon his mat, and Adrian saw the hilt of a poniard glitter in his belt. " Who is he," he deeply thought. " If I but knew his name — " " Mateo Spinoza," said the Italian sleepily, as if in answer to the secret wish. "Hey! Mateo! Mateo! Awake! You're not KARTH-nORN. 209 going to have 'nothcr fit, are you ?" said one of the gang, shakini:; him vigorously. "What's the matter?" said the Italian, at this moment, opening his eyes, *' Alaledetto ! Can't you let a man rest?" " He's ail right," said one, " and now let's to rest and be up to rule France in the morning, for we're all kings, now that the royal head of Louis has tum- bled. The people arc the kings, and we are the people, eh. Gendarme?" and he slapped the other vagabond on the shoulder with a mirthless grin at the jest. The rascally Gendarme made no reply to this, but gruffly pointed out a mat for Adrian to rest upon. Then, with the others, he laid down to sleep. From the moment the Italian had answered to his powerful secret wish Adrian felt relieved. He knew that the man was one of the tools of the Sons of Isis, but that such a vagabond was admitted to even the very lowest of their bands was surprising to him, and the man's ignorance he had no faith in, believ- ing it assumed for a purpose before his rascally companions. For some time he lay quietly thinking, and when all the band appeared asleep, he willed the Italian to cautiously come to his side. Mateo slowly and silently arose, glanced cautious- ly about, carefully picked his way, and stood beside Adrian, who also arose, and together they quietly stole out of the chamber, each taking a lantern, and Adrian a sheath knife which he found beside one of the thieves. After they had travelled for about half an hour, Adrian questioned the man, whose set lips and 210 EARTII-UOKN. jyi^lassy, unintelligent eyes, showed him fully UMcler the inrtuence of the (luestioiier. " Where are you leadini;- tne?" he quietly asked. *• Away from them. Anywhere you say," was the reply. But as he spoke, Adrian saw a dark fi'^urc behind, cautiously following them, while keeping in the shadoAv. For a moment he thouf the ;ained as one ecrets ray all which hiloso- is gen- spread imifica- nfortu- uffered i other ; to-day and be- vil, the |m what evil, so nuch of [eptship st won- jby the ler their e block [he best f years lers had late ob- led Sea, llic rock 227 at Meribah, and water flowed from it — it proved ihc mighty power, gained from the highest source 0/ all power, as also did many other Biblical wonders spoken of. But these powers were all taken away because of the base uses they were put to by un- scrupulous men. " There still exist remnants of this secret order to-day, he said, though yearly growing less and less, and here he mentioned Count Balzac's name, at which I immediately became inwardly excited, and carefully noted his words. " He claimed that Count Balzac had been a member of the order, and was a powerful adept or leader. That his wife, the beautiful Countess, was one of the rarest specimens of the highest order of impres- sibles, and that her spirit could be sent forth at will whenever the Count wished, even to other worlds, and returning, inform him through her entranced lips what she had seen or heard there. " He said that to rise above this Earth required the very highest type of purity in thought and action, bvit that many could, in an entranced state, visit Earthly places at the will of the adept. " He stated that the Count had accepted the friend- ship of some of the most dangerous men in the order, adventurers and charlatans, who used their power for ill. That at their instigation he had turned his own and his wife's fortune into one of their leader's hands, through an acknowledgment of debt never owing, under repeated promises that the whole of it should be used in building a temple in Alexandria, and restoring to the Sons of Isis a glorious recep- tacle for their Priestess in this ancient city, where, like the Oracle of Delphi, she could be consulted by ii;=' 228 EARTH-BORN. all. Here they would rebuild a mystical faith, bring purity to a fallen secret order, and generally benefit mankind through restored knowledge. " ' But why did not the Countess when entranced warn him of these plotteis ? * I asked. " ' Because she was under their control more than his own in these states. Their combined power at all times overthrew his, and unwittingly she herself became their instrument by reflecting their will and pretended grand beliefs and intentions, when she en- tered this state,' he replied. *^ Then this dying man told me how these charlatans worked upon the Count's mind, and induced him to make the final experiment and take the Countess with him. He told me how both had been in a trance state for several years, and that probably their spirits would never return, if the power of those dangerous adepts could prevent it." " And was this all ? " asked Adrian, as Minotti ceased speaking. " About all that I dare to tell you, for the rest mainly concerns other cases," was the reply. "And did this man, this member of the order, die?" '' I learned that he did, but ere he died he showed me his secret imprint over the heart, and said that he wished absolution, as he was one of those who had usea his power for ill, not only over Count Balzac, but others." . " What was his name ? ' asked Adrian, quietly. ** That is bound to secrecy by the veil of the con- fessional, and cannot be told. For tlie rest he vol- untarily asked me to use his confession to assist in| righting the wrong done to the Balzacs." tt furl <( ord( grar this inyc ''/ reply it wa: andn lost n slowlj never The this, p convei trait u charac Thefi remem otti lis Adrian pecuJia wonder niyster) "To- Jast, and [the folic bring benefit ranced re than )wer at herself will and 1 she en- larlatans d him to Countess een in a ably their of those Minotti jst mainly the order, le showed , said that those who int Balzac, luietly. If the con- ist he vol- to assist in EARTH-BORN. 229 "And how can it be righted? Did he give no further clew ? " " He said that if I could master the secrets of the order, and become a true adept; that the power thus granted would enable me to do justice to you, for by this time I had told him 3^our story and my interest in you/' answered Minotti sadly. "And did you try it?" was Adrian's astonished reply. ** Yes, but failed.. I studied carefully and long, but it was useless. I was unable to grasp the power, and never learned the secrets of the order, though I lost my peace of mind in the attempt," said Minotti, slowly and sorrowfully. " For years afterward I never knew content." They both were silent for some little time after this, pondering deeply, when Adrian resumed the conversation, and told Minotti about finding the por- trait upon the strange man's body. Of the cabalistic characters upon the frame, and of his -disposal of it. The finding of Tuaa, and what had occurred since he remembered meeting Le Blanc in the chapel. Min- otti listened carefully and attentively, and when Adrian showed him the paper, with its address and peculiar characters, he shook his head in puzzled wonder, and could offer no explanation of the strange mystery. " To-morrow we will see Tuaa," said Adrian at last, and they retired for the night, and slept till late the following morning. am Mi I <(' CHAPTER XIII. I AM ADRIAN ! WHERE IS SHE ? " Faubourg St.Germaine. Pyramid 4. Amenophis." Evidently an address and a password, thought both Minotti and Adrian, in exan"»ining it the next day. But to what ? That was the question. And it remained to be solved. The day advanced, and the hour was at hand to see Antoine and get the image. Adrian, accom- panied by Minotti, saw the locksmith, paid the amount, and soon Tuaa was at the room in the Rue Lacepede. Standing before it, Adrian earnestly questioned the image : " Tuaa, if indeed my spirit is in harmony with you, speak. Where is Philip?" ** He is here," replied the veiled image, " and he has much to tell you." " And will he tell it now, through you ? " said Adrian, joyfully. " To-night he will tell you," answered the i'^age. " Question him not vmtil this day is past." '* Where are the bodies of the Count and the Countess Balzac?" asked Adrian eagerly. " You will see both ere long. Your strange search is well nigh over." " And are the earthly shells they left behind again inhabited ? " 230 arc trail T for t ''j Eart then and t from "B rian. '^Y cast c Wait "Ai "Til doom. To-mo place the di be dra few." "To- wrongs " The here. for whic [>iatc th EARTH-IJORN, 231 • >» ophis. hougbt (\G next I. And hand to accom- )aid the the Rue estioned ith you, «' and he ?" said e i"iage. raid the ^e search hid again " The materir.hty which they cast aside is again animated," was tlie guarded reply. " Thank God ! " was the glad cry of Adrian and Minotti. "Mortals should tliank God when those they love arc freed from Earthly fetters — not when they are trammeled with its clay," replied Tuaa. The two friends pondered deeply over this reply for some moments, and then Adrian slowly said : '* And arc they unhappy since their return to Earth?" " Search this planet and find the perfectly happy, then ask if those who return could be more cor^tent, and thank God that the future is veiled mercifully from humanity," was the reply, still ambiguous. •' But are their spirits not content," persisted Ad- rian. '' You shall see them, and then judge. The veil is cast over them, and I am not permitted to lift it. Wait bid a little while and rest content." " And the Sons of Isis — what of them ? " " The fallen Sons of Isis soon will meet their doom. The glorious Sons of Isis shall arise again. To-morrow one slfall fall who has usurped the regal place that many ancient Pb raohs have filled. In the dust he has dragged it. In the dust he will be dragged. His crimes are legion — his virtues few." •* To-morrow ! And will his death right the wrongs of the Balzacs?" asked Minotti. "The wrongs of this Earth are seldom righted here. In part his death will right some of those ills for which he was responsible, and others he will ex- [)iatc through future ages in other lives of woe^ suf- 232 KAKTU-BORN. fering in each as he has forced others to suffer here in this existence." " And his name ? " " His name is blotted out already from the Book of Life. The mantle of Death, encircles him as I speak. The shadows which have gathered round for full three centuries claim him for their own at last, and as he faces Death, his ministers in other lands prepare to meet him on the border. He wills it, and they obey the silent call of the dying Hiero- phant. " The Sacred Uraeus encircles his livid brow like a wrathful demon of living fire, eating its way to his agonized brain, in a sure vengeance long delayed but now at hand. To-morrow, at the stroke of twelve, he perishes in the dark cave temple in the Isle of Elephanta. With him fall the foulest of his leaders, and each country will to-morrow at that hour record the death of one who, known or un- known, bears upon his breast the secret symbol, and has abused its power. If you would see a leader die, and one whose death unfolds a myster)^ that sur- rounds you, follow him who leads the crowd to the guillotine ere twelve o'clock to-morrow, present to him the cabalistic paper found upon his body in the vault, and take what he will give. Farewell ! " and the voice ceased. " To-morrow, then, the mystery will be cleared. To-night Philip answers to my questioning. The threads are drawing closer toward the end," said Adrian slowly, oppressed by indefinable sadness in spite of himself. " Let us walk about the city for a little while," said ^linotti, " but disguise yourself as I will, and th. ani the by I the a cl out T uarj pass theij morj wait solve whos myst Ev vast wrat] of Ki Mino To peop] times for thi their On the pr impul; here, prison! before, prisonc KAkTlI-nORN'. 233 here Book n as I round own at I other le wills Hiero- w like a ^ to his delayed ;roke of le in the ;t of his at that 1 or. un- ibol, and ader die, hat sur- d to the -esent to iy in the U!" and d cleared. tg. The id," said idness in while," will, and then we shall not be recognized by old acquaint- ances. To-day, on our Way to the locksmith, I met those whom I knew, and had they not been alarmed by weightier things I should have been discovered." Adrian secured disguises for both, and he appeared the priest, while Mirfotti seemed the citizen. So great a change the dress made, that they sallied forth with- out fear of recognition. The afternoon was chill and bleak, and the Jan- uary sun was obscured by wintry clouds, but as they passed familiar scenes, their hearts grew lighter, and their spirits rose in spite of the cheerless day, for to- morrow they would learn what they had so long waited for. To-morrow the problem would be solved, and then they would be reunited to those whose lives had been so strangely interwoven with mystery. Everywhere the city was lined with troops, for a vast army was being raised to defend Paris from the wrath of those who had sworn to avenge the death of King Louis XVI., and as they passed, Adrian and Minotti learned the condition of France and Paris. Together they walked past the excited crowds of people, and listened to the stirring events of the times as though they belonged to another century, for their private affairs drove other thoughts out of their minds at presenf. On they went, past Notre Dame, and then toward the prison of the Conciergerie, led by that indefinable impulse which occasionally leads humanity. It was here, in its silent cells, that nearly three hundred prisoners had been massacred a few short months before. It was here that many of the political prisoners were then confined. In its dungeons 234 EARTH-RORK. i :. Marie Antoinette and Robespierre were later to array themselves for death. ' Built originally as a regal palace for the Kings of France, the Palais de Justice, and the Conciergerie were now the prison and the guard. As they looked upon it with feelings of mingled *awe and distrust, a paper fluttered toward them and fell at their feet. Picking it up Adrian saw these words written in a bold, free hand : " As a priest of the church, Father Minotti is asked to receive the confession of one who dies within two hours. Inquire at the Conciergerie for the Abbe Renaud, before it is too late." " There is no time to be lost. Quick, let us hasten back, and you can don your priestly robes and re- turn at once," said Adrian eagerly. " Too late for that. The hours for visitors to the condemned will close ere we can return. You, Adrian, take my place, and if it concerns this mys- tery, listen to what he says with calmness, as Minotti. If it concerns other things, then tell the unfortu- nate that I could not reach him, but sent you in my stead. A few moments later Adrian was ushered into one of the cells of the Conciergerie. It was a dismal dungeon, situated next to the Seine, whose waters oozed through the solid stone in places, and left patches of green, slimy moss upon its sides. The booming of the wagons on the quay above, the splash of the river, and the footsteps of the passing crowd sounded hollowly and solemn in this sub- terranean dungeon, and but the faint lightof a tallow candle lit the cell, and cast its fitful shadows over the spot. Upon a pallet in a corner lay the figure of << I EARTII-nORX. 235 !r to gsof gerie )oked ust, a feet. I in a )tti is ) dies •ie for hasten nd re- to the You, is mys- inotti. iortu- in my d into dismal Iwaters id left The re, the )assing lis sub- tallow s over :ure of a man, with his face masked in black, moaning in pain and agony. " It is you — at last — Minotti ? " said the man, be- tween his gasps for breath. Adrian, who had drawn his cowl over his face, bowed in silence. " I have much — to confess — and but — a short time — to do it in," he gasped. Then Adrian noticed that the figure was not that of the stranger in the vault, and that it was also clad in priestly garments. He was about to make a cor- rection and explain his presence, as this was evi- dently not the stranger he expected to see, when the next words shut his lips. Slowly and painfully the man spoke : " You remember — the Count — Jules Balzac — and your charge — given now some — some twenty-six — years ago ? " Adrian hesitated a moment, then bowed and said : " I remember." " You remember the — the Countess — Lena Balzac — and — and her charge ?" " I remember," came in low tones from the priestly figure. ** You remember the — the confession — made to — you by — by the Baron — Rudolf sberg — the dyin'^ — Son of Isis — years ago ?" The priestly figure did not move, but the abb6 failed to notice it, and continued : " What did you — do with — with the — bodies left — left in — your care ?" " They were guarded till they disappeared," was the faint reply. ' "And — the boy — the young — Count — he is — still with — with you ?" 2$6 EARTH-BORN. . " Adrian is still with Minotti," was the low answer. " Then it — is not — yet too late — not too — late," and the abbe relapsed into silence for a few mo- ments, gasping heavily in the nr. urky atmosphere for breath, and partaking sparingly of a dark looking mixture from a vial that he held. " Count Balzac did not tell you all that night he disappeared," said the man, gaining strength and speaking rapidly, " and neither was he, as you have been informed, the innocent victim of a mystic con- spirac3% though the Countess led you to infer so, under his influence, and you have since been told this was the case by Rudolfsberg. He had a friend — named Count Jaroslav, also — a mystic, who pos- sessed a daughter — Vera, about fourteen years — of age, beautiful and — very impressible. " The two mystics agreed — that they would par- take — of the essence which produces coma at the same hour, and that Lena Balzac and Vera Jaroslav — should do the same, and then — six months later, after they had explored — the wonders of nature. Count Balzac — should, if possible, enter Count Jaroslav's entranced body. Lena Balzac should enter — Vera's entranced body. They should — awake in that state, and the — spirits of Jaroslav and Vera should— do the same with — the bodies of the Count and — the Countess Balzac. " The experiment was not— successful for most — of those concerned. Lena Balzac's spirit — fled into space immediately — and never returned. The others tried — to follow her, and — were lost far- some time — in the mysteries— of the Universe - separating there, and — none of them — meeting - again for — years." H pain] agon mixt patie resui propi "F into ^ and r the e daug] locate ered i That] bring] trial. wife, mutua prope; withoi protec as Jan expect he cou Thisd serfs w instruc would "Th tinue a that he and se EARTH-BORN 237 Here the masked man was again attacked with painful weakness, and drew his breath in short, agonizing gasps. He again partook of the dark mixture, a larger quantity, and Adrian waited patiently till the paroxysm passed, and the sufferer resumed, his voice growing clearer and stronger, in proportion to the dose he had taken : " Finally, Count Balzac escaped from the darkness, into which the pursuit of the Countess had led him, and returned to Earth. He succeeded in entering the entranced body of Jaroslav, which, with his daughter's body, rested in a similar tomb to Balzac's, located on Jaroslav's Russian estates. " Balzac then found that in France he was consid- ered not only dead, but dishonored, and a murderer. That he could not re-enter his own body without bringing the Countess with him, for fear of a judicial trial. He also found that his estates and those of his wife, which had been willed to Jaroslav under their mutual agreement (Jaroslav having also willed his property to Balzac, so that in case either returned without the other their mucual interests could be protected by the one returning) were so fixed, that as Jaroslav he could get the property, as his people expected Jaroslav's return. That as Count Balzac he could get nothing, his return being unexpected. This decided him to remain as Count Jaroslav, whose serfs were daily looking for his appearance, as he had instructed them to carefully tend his body, and he would surely come back and awaken from slumber, " Thus everything seemed fitted for him to con- tinue as Jaroslav, and his risks were great to assume that he was Balzac. He remained Count Jaroslav, and set to work endeavoring to bring back the !l 238 E iRTII-nORN. *• others who had tried tlic experiment with him. He secured the Bulzac estates, and then, by his adept- ship, assumed to be a dying man — the Baron Ru- dolfsberg — and sent for you, Minotti, to confess him. He told you many things that were true, but in order to secure you as a student of occult science, and gain your assistance in bringing the others back, he told you of a conspiracy against the Balzacs which did not exist, thinking and hoping that this would enlist your sympathies, and that you would become a true adept and assist him. " Well, you tried to do so, but could not, even with his unseen help, prevail against the influences which surrounded the chateau — for his occult studies in Black Magic had called many Earth-Born shadows about his dwelling and himself. You he expected would be a purely true adept of the high- est order, not a mixed one like himself, and being perfectly pure yourself, you could recall the pure spirits which had fled. You failed, and instead of controlling the Earth-Born shadows, they — con- trolled — you. They — mesmerized — you, instead — of your — mesmerizing — them." Here the masked abbe was again obliged to rest in the confession, for another attack had seized him. In a few moments, by the aid of his restorative, he resumed : " And now, the struggle which has always been on Earth between the God-born and the Earth-Born in- fluence, between the true spirit and the Earthly soul which surrounds it, began in Count Balzac's case, as in many olliers, to turn in favor of the Earthly, darker shadows. Gradually, little by little, his na- ture, originally true and honorable, began to sue- KAkTir-UORN. ^3$ He dcpt- Ru- nfess ;, but ence, back, ilzacs t this vould , even lences occult i-Born ou he ; high- 1 being pure ;ad of — con- ead — -est in him. [ve, he ;en on )rn in- ly soul |ase, as irthly, lis na- lo suc- cumb to the shadov.s his S')rccry had evoked to assist him. In a fc\v years they had obtained com- plete possession of him, and people wondered at the change in Jaroslav, who had by this time become in reality a fallen Son of Isis, and a dangerous man. His neighbors feared him, many strange crimes were committed, and a number of innocent tools were sent to Siberia, at his instigation. " He constantly feared that the true Jaroslav would return, or that you and others would discover through some means the deception he was practic- ing — for now he was as anxious that the spirits of those who had made the test with him should remain away, as before he had been that they should return. He determined never to yield his position to the true Jaroslav, should he come back. " Vera escaped from the wanderings she had been led into, after some seventeen years' absence, and re- turned, entering her body, which appeared as young and beautiful as it had been upon the night of the experiment. But Jaroslav ihrew her into a trance state, and kept her so, using her to unconsciously assist him in his schemes, for she was a superlative impressible, and would wander at his will through space. He brought her to Paris, and established a secret branch of the order, with himself as the Ruler, and Vera as the Priestess. Though professedly she was controlled solely by the wearer of the Uraeus, she in reality was controlled only by Jaroslav. He took her to St. Petersburg, to London, and the same procedure was adopted. " At this time Adrian appeared upon the scene, his son, a young man, full of the fire of youth, and with his father's mystic nature and inherent power. 240 EARTH-BORN. You, Minotti, told him the secret of his birth, set his brain on fire, and he determined. upon a search for those who had fled. " Jaroslav thought to frighten him from the pro- ject, and with all his now terrible power over the black shadows, he concentrated them at the chateau, and they appeared to Adrian. But he was not to be frightened. Jaroslav knew all his doings, through Vera, whose spirit hovered over Adrian often in his work, and returning told the master. " He could have killed Adrian at any tine desired, through others, through you, Minotti, had he wished, but he was proud of his courageous son, and know- ing that sooner or later he could circumvent him, let him go on. The day arrived. Philip and Adrian took the coma drop and started. Jaroslav knew the moment, and immediately sent Vera after tliem, with instructions to finally lead Adrian and Philip into the black darkness that had engulfed himself, Vera, and the true Jaroslav years before. She did so, at his bidding, uttering words which he put into her mouth. But he was unable to recall her, and she was lost to him forever. None but the truest adept gifted with the highest power, could recall that pure spirit from the negative Circle of Silence. " Adrian and Philip were lost — but so was his Priestess, and for many weeks he tried to find another. It was useless. Then he decided to re- move the bodies of Count Balzac and the Countess, for as he could no longer tell by an impressible what might happen to them, he still feared that the true Jaroslav might return, and being unable to enter his own body, take that of Count Balzac, s.nd by true adeptship overthrow him — for now his power was waning. * . ■ t^ARTH-nORX. 241 it his h for ; pro- r the iteau, to be rough in his jsired, ished, know- im, let \drian EW the ,with p into Vera, so, at [to her d she adept ,t pure las his lo find to re- mtess, what 3 true ter his true ;r was "So the two bodies were removed through the catacombs to his house in the Faubourij St. Germaine, and there he used as he deemed best, either the- body of Jaroslav, or that of Balzac, meantim**, in order to be rid of it, depositing the body of Vera in the sarcophagus ol the chateau. " He had tools among the priests, and when he learned that the chateau near Versailles had been sacked, and that Minotti had taken the coma drop — for he knew that he had not killed himself — and also that the bodies were to be removed, he entered the tomb, and placed himself beside Vera. Jaroslav was a strong Royalist, and was proscribed by the Rev- olutionists, and his life was in imminent danger at that time. So Jaroslav's body was carried with the others into the catacombs, it being placed beside you, Minotti, the others being buried elsewhere, at the suggestion of an abbe who assisted in the work. " He then used Balzac's body only, telling his people' that Jaroslav was ir such danger of his life, that he had gone upon a long journey. The rest you know, and to-da}-, he, as Jaroslav, returns from his journey, but now the Abbe — Renaud dies— ere the — guillotine can sever — his head — from his — body. His — power — has well — nigh — vanished." " And what of her — the Countess ? " asked Adrian, rising and bending over the prostrate abbe, who was laboring desperately for breath. Adrian quickly raised the vial to his lips, and for a moment it revived him. "The Countess — he tried to — recall — as his— Priestess in — Vera's place. Her — portrait — set — Le- murifcn --Sorcerer's prayer. Body — throne — Priest* ess— Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h— D-y-i-n-g !— dy "— i • * 242 EARTH-BOUN*. "Look at me ! I am Ar' an ! Where is she?*' shrieked the listener, raising- his cowl, and lookin^^ straight into those ci ing eyes as if to stop the spirit in its flight. " A-A-A-Adrian ! "— and the abbe lay still and speechless upon the pallet. Adrian thought him dead. But the dying abbe made a last final effort, and amid his moans whis- pered, while Adrian bent closely over his purple, parched lips, and looked into his death-glazed eyes : " T-o — m-o-r — r-o-vv — g-u-i-1 — l-o " — the death rattle gurgled, his hands fell nervously beside him, the black mask shuddered a second, and then all was silence. " Dead !" said Adrain slowly. Then he carefully lifted the black mask, and started back in horror ! The face was that of Count Jules Balzac! ¥t ^ * ^ f: " Another Royalist abbe cheats the guill(3tine," remarked the concierge some hours later, as he stood beside the pallet. " The air here is not good for Royalists." (( **1 w CHAPTER XIV. **IN COMING CENTURIES WE MAY MEET AGAIN." Again Adrian and Minotti stood before the veiled figure of Isis. Night had fallen over the city, and the deep toned bells of Notre Dame announced the midnight hour. The strange story of the Abbe Renaud had been committed to paper, and lay beside them on the table. The lamplight flitted fantastically over the room, and cast their shadows fitfully over the mar- vellous image, standing before them like a dethroned oracle of the olden days. •* Tuaa, is the hour at hand, and Philip here?" questioned Adrian, with throbbing heart and sad demeanor. " The hour and Philip are at hand. Write, while he dictates through me that which Minotti and your- self should know — the strange, weird story of .your voyage into space." For hours Adrian sat and wrote, and finally he finished. The marvellous story lay before them, and the identity of his beautiful mother with Eve was now complete, But, alas ! He greatly feared that never would he fold her to his heart in this life, and that she would be but a beautiful shadow, a lovely dream, too pure and fair to'^ lar encompassed by Lilith's power, to return to him on E^rih. Sadly he questioned Tuaa : " O ! Tuaa, will she not return ?" 243 244 EARTH-HORX. The veiled figure made reply : " Search well thy heart, and. if its truest love would dictate her return, then pray to that power which alone can grant your prayer." " Not Terrasal ? " " No. A far higher, nobler power than any Earths born spirit. Call him Zeus, Jove, Jehovah, or the Nameless One — the God of All. That power alone can help. But ere you call, search well thy heart for grain of selfishness, since prayers for self are answered not." Adrian bowed his head upon his hands. Minotti clasped his arms about the silent, sorrowful figure. " To-morrow night thy search for Eve shall end. Others will claim allegiance from thy heart. The dawn of another day will usher in a new life and a fresh existence. Arouse thyself to meet it." The veiled image spoke solemnly and low. " What shall be done ? " sadly and slowly answered Adrian. " At break of day, ere Paris is awake, the bodies of those who sleep so dreamlessly in the catacombs mu'='t be removed," said the image. " Where are they in those dark and silent galleries ? To where shall they be taken ? " " Un'ier the crucifix they rest, beneath the chateau in the Faubourg St. Germaine. You will know it when you reach the spot. Take them to the chateau through the secret entrance near their resting place. Follow Philip, who will lead you aright. Fare- well ! " ¥t' ¥t ¥t ¥: ^ The day was breaking as the two friends reached the church of St. Etie|ine du Mont, and entered the M^ 1 • I Iched the EARTIMJORN. 245 catacombs from its secret stairway, guided by a sure impression that they were right. With lanterns casting long fantastic shadows in their rear, they travelled onward, ever following the impulse. At last they stood beside the pile of stones, surmounted by the crucifix, in that lonely, rock-hewn cham- ber. Swiftly they worked, and soon their efforts were rewarded. The first empty coffin lay before them on the rocky floor. Then Philip's deformed body was carefully lifted from its resting place, and at last the beautiful sleeper, Vera, lay in sweet repose, pure and peaceful, before their gaze. Adrian started at sight of her. What was this fleeting, sweet memory, which mistily came to him as he gazed upon that charming face. Tenderly they lifted her beautiful figure from its resting place, and Adrian, clasping her in his arms, led the way while Minotti followed with Philip. A few steps brought them to a diverging gallery, and following it, they soon arrived at the secret entrance to the chateau. Mounting the short flight of rocky stairs, they entered an elegant apartment, and laid the inanimate figures upon divans, richly upholstered, as was all the furniture, and then, seating themselves, they rested from their labors, for they had not slept during the night just past, and they were very weary. This was the place they sought, evidently, yet the house was deserted. Overcome by drowsiness they closed their eyes, and sleep fell upon them. As they slumbered, through the open doorway came a powerful python, and drooped its head in submission at the feet of Adrian, closing its eyes as if in sleep. They slept 1 246 EAKTII-BOkN. for some time, when finally Adrian opened his eyes, and dreamily saw the scpcnt. " Karnac, Karnac," he softly whispered, and the python reared its head in obedience to the call, and looked at him. " Awake ! Minotti ! Awake ! " cried Adrian, sud- denly remembering the day, and the hour they were to be at the guillotine. Minotti quickly arose, and together they found the exit to the chamber, and passed through the house. Not a person was visible, and a deathlike stiUness reigned over the place. Karnac had followed them, but Adrian willed him to return and watch over the two bodies, and at the wish, he quickly turned and glided toward the chamber they had left. Over the gate leading from the grounds into the faubourg, they noticed a small pyramid, but without stopping, the two friends hurried toward the Place de la Revolution, whither the crowd were going, for to-day a number of prisoners were to be executed to appease the growing appetite of the mob for blood. They were none too early, and as they hurried along, jostled here and there by the savage crowd or the armed soldiery, they reached the Rue Royale, and the death carts came in sight. Standing within the first, his powerful frame cowering above the others, for there were four pris- oners in the cart with him, they saw the strong fea- tures of the man they sought. Daring, courageous, but cruel he looked. Still defiant, still a master. " Vive Ic Roi ! " He defiantly shouted this challenge in the teeth of the crowd, who in return surged madly about the cart, with angr}^ screapis of ; <( and « KARTH-IiORN.. 24; *' Vive la Republique ! " ''A mort le Royaliste ! " " La Guillotine / La Guillotine I " It was with difficulty the gendarmes kept the in- furiated crowd at bay, as this powerful figure hurled defiance at them. He appeared anxious to attract attention, and every few moments his flashing eyes would roam over the excited rabble as if in search of some one. • Seeing this, Adrian and Minotti pressed forward in the crush, and were soon within his gaze. His eyes lighted with a joyous expression, his lips sternly set themselves together for a moment, and then he turned to one of the gendarmes — it was Cabot — and looked steadily at him, never noting the howling mob. *' Death to the Royalist ! " shouted the rabble. He heeded it not for the moment, and still fastened his black, flashing eyes upon the man. Suddenly his face kindled as the gendarme sprang at the horses' heads, and turning them rapidly, the cart careened, upset, and all was confusion. At that second, with a powerful leap the prisoner sprang to Minotti's side, and handed him a packet so quickly that the crowd had not time to notice him in the confusion of the moment. " Where is the paper ? Quick ! " he whispered, and the next instant it was in his hand. " Vive le Roi .^ " he bravely cried. "The mob gathered about him in fury, and at- tempted to break through the cordon of guards, who were now quickly driving the rabble back from the cart, while others righted it. The prisoners again mounted their conveyance of 248 EAKTII-HORN. death, and once more the tall, commanding figure towered above his fellows. But, folding his arms in haughty silence, he no longer noticed the jeers of the crowd, or the fierce epithets bestowed upon him. His thoughts were far away, and his dark eyes looked into the dull and wintry sky, as though to pierce the depths which lay beyond. The jostling cart rolled onward. The seething mob howled and hooted in vain. He did not deign to answer then, and wildly they waved their rv^d bon- nets, their pikes and staves at him to attract atten- tion. His dark eyes still looked toward the bleak an '^^! 'try clouds, as though seeking for some sign of hope. The guillotine was reached, and one by one his fc: -ow prisoners descended from the cart, but yet he stood gazing into space with flashing eyes and ex- P'^ctant look. The guard roughly ordered him to descend and mak ' way for the rest. Slowly he gazed about him, and stepped from the conveyance to the ground below. One by one the other carts arrived, and the con- demned prisoners were formed in line for the last tragedy. But the dark eyes still scanned the bleak hori.7on and the dun. misty clouds. The death line moved forward, and now the first head has tallen into the basket. The delighted crowd howled and shrieked in demoniac joy as the knife descended, but no tremor shook the frame of the expectant watcher. Now his turn has come, and mounting the red steps of Death which led to the gleaming axe, no longer flashing, but wet with the gore of those who preceded him, he stood beside the executioners, and EARTH-BORN. 249 gave one searching look into the clouds — then smiled defiantly. Raising the paper he had received on high, he muttered a strange prayer in an unknown tongue, tore the paper to shreds, and fell into the arms of the executioners, who at that instant had seized him, and were ready to bind him to the bloody plank. " He is dead," said one of them. The bells of the city deep and dismally tolled the hour of twelve. " It matters little, save that his blood won't flow so easily, and there will be less to clean up," was the brutal reply, as the body was bound to the slippery plank, and placed in position under the knife. The gory axe fell — the head rolled into the basket — the blood-thirsty rabble yelled and jeered — and the two friends, Adrian and Minotti, sick at heart, pushed their way out of the ferocious crowd, and bent their steps rapidl}'^ toward the Faubourg St. Germaine. They were too pre-occupied with sad thoughts for much conversation, and soon they arrived at the chateau, noticing again the miniature pyramid over the gateway. It was made of copper, and appeared to be a sort of receptacle, for they saw a letter lying within the entrance. Reaching up, Adrian grasped it, and was surprised to find it addressed to himself. He quickly tore it open and read the following : "The King is dead — hail to the Dauphin. The Count and the Abb6 have perished — the son still lives. The Amenophis Circle of the Order of the Chateau, Pyramid 4, bids adieu to a city that is plunging into a bloody vortex which threatens to overwhelm all wealth and learning within its radius. Already our wonderful leader and several of the 250 EARTII-HOKN. most learned members have fallen. The clouds are hovering darkly over this doomed city, and while there is yet time we leave it for a brighter land. " All our efforts to save King Louis and our own brave Jaroslav have failed. We thought our leader absent, but last evening he reappeared and was ar- rested. You saw liis end as we did. " Disguised as Grey Friars we leave for Italy to- day. Beneath the chateau you will find our meeting place, in the old cavern of Charlemagne, used by him as a secret refuge for women and children in time of war, but for centuries forgotten. Care for Druna, whom you will find there, as we leave her in your charge. We will meet again under brighter skies. '* Adieu ! till then. << THE CIRCLE OF AMENOPHIS." Adrian showed it to Minotti, and then said : " They have left the chateau, having witnessed this morning's tragedy. Do you think they really ex- pected to see this strange man die, or did they sup- pose something would occur to save him, even at the guillotine?" " It is beyond me," was the answer. " But his glances toward the clouds would indicate that he expected something to appear which did not. His spirit evidently deserted the body ere the axe reached him." " Who can tell what he may have seen in those dun clouds," said Adrian, as they entered the chat- eau. " Perhaps he may have found the sign he looked for, when he smiled so defiantly." They entered the chamber where the bodies lay. There they were, guarded by Karnac, just as they had been left, but standing at the door which led into the catacombs, was a terror-stricken figure, K ART 1 1- BORN'. 251 which seemed made of stone, so si Unit it was, and so rigid with fear. His C3'es were fixed in terror iqxjn tlie great pytlion, who at the slightest indica- tion of life would have sprung upon him. It was the Gendarme, as he \\ as called, and as Adrian sent Karnac into another room, the man fell forward on his face as if dead, hut he soon revived, and seeing tliat the ser[)ent had disappeared, re- covered his courajjfe to some extent and told his story. It appeared that one of liis companions had seen Adrian and Minotti in the catacombs while they were at work removing the bodies that morning, and recognizing the priest as the one they had seen so strangely revived in the secret vault, he had told the Gendarme, who forthwith set out after tlxm, to claim his reward. lie arrived in the cham- ber but a short time after they had left it, and was set upon by Karnac, who would have killed him, had not his terror kept him i)aralyzed with fear until their arrival. " Holy Jesus ! Save me ! " he yelled, as Adrian willed the python to appear, which it did. The man made a spring for the door. But Adrian stopped him, and explained that the serpent obeyed his will, as he wished to impress the thieves through the man, that it would be dangerous to visit this spot. So he gave commands to Karnac, who glided about as he was ordered, and struck at the furniture or coiled around it, as Adrian desired. The thief was amazed, and it was easy to be seen, would not again visit the chateau. Then Minotti and Adrian both gave him a reward, as promised, and let him i I ' I 252 EARTH-HORN. depart as he had come, through the secret entrance, satisfied that he would never trouble them again. " Now for the packet," said Adrian, and Minotti produced it and it was opened. It contained first, two keys, one evidently for a desk or receptacle, the other for a door. Next they found a note, as fol- lows: " The chateau in the Faubourg St. Germaine, marked with a pyramid at the gate, as the residence of both the Abbe Renaud and the Count Jaroslav, is the meeting place of the leaders of that order to which they both belong. *' At this time, the Abbe having perished by con- finement in the Conciergerie to-day, and the writer, being incarcerated in another cell of the same prison, and much doubting his ability to escape the call of death which has this night descended to him, he now directs that any one into whose hands this note may fall shall take it to the chateau mentioned and in- quire for Minotti, once of the church of St. Etienne du Mont, and formerly of the Parish of St. Medard. " If he cannot readily be found. If no one there knows of him, then use the proceeds of the ring en- closed to advertise for his address. Give this packet to him, as you would escape the dying curse of one who knows how to put a threat into execution, be he living or dead. Any man receiving and failing to deliver this packet, will be pursued by the secret order of the chateau in this life and the next. " JAROSLAV." This note was wrapped about a ring, the solitaire jew^el of which flashed bright and clear as they looked at it. It was a ruby, of wondrous color, large and full of fire. More precious than a dia- mond, rare and beautiful, and as Adrian closely examined it, the stone seemed to emit sparks of in- KAKTH-nORK. 253 telligence and fire his brain. He quickly threw it from him, and they opened the next paper. This proved to be an appeal to Minotti to accept the keys, and unlock, first, the receptacle which would be found behind a picture of jaroslav in the main hall of the chateau ; to take from it the papers, and destroy all save the will and a confession. Next, to open the door of a secret cavern that he would find below the chateau, in the catacombs, and here a diagram was given showing its exact location and how to reafch it Then followed an appeal to the priest to find Adrian, and deliver to him all that would be his under the will, and, as a secret brother, to secure and properly inter the remains of the Abbe Renaud and of Jaroslav, unless the guillotine should disfigure the latter body, in which case nothing need be done with it. He wrote : " At this hour I am oppressed with a feeling of coming disaster more so than at any time in my troubled, strange career. " I see before me as I write, sitting silent and grim in the depths of darkness, a figure new and unfa- miliar. Among the shadows that have at all times surrounded me, this one alone refuses to be banished by the spells I utter, or the efficacy of the charmed nng. but one shadow thus has power to stay, and that is — Death ! Not Death alone of the body, for that is Earthly, and can be held at br^y by the strong spirit which knows its power ; but Death of the hving spirit, which I at last believe in. There is no God. No redemption for such as I have been. Read my confession, and you will then fully understand me. " As I speak to the unfamiliar shadow it ap- proaches, and within its fiery eyes I see no mercy. No hereafter that can promise aught of hope to me. ^54 EARTH-BORN. ^y " I tell it to begone ! " It lingers ?till before me. "I defy it in my waning power, and it sits, and grins at me with an ever deadly smile. " I call upon his name, the Great Hierophant, and passing before xne in the misty candlelight I see the grand Cave Temple of Elepnanta. Within it, sur- rounded by his satellites, reclines a pale and ghostly figure. Upon his brow the Sacred Uraeus burns like a living flame. The thin, parched lips open, but emit no sound. " The wavering shadows flit about him l-ke evil omens, and now, at his side, sits the unfamiliar figure —Death ! " He sees it, and his wan face darkens as he bids it depart ! ** It stays ! And he frowns heavily. *' Hark : I hear the summons wafted to me from the brink of eternity I " Meet me in Chaos to-morrow ! True ministers of mine ! " " And the strange, persistent figure, calmly looks at me with its fiery eyes. ** The vision fades ! No longer it defies me ! It has gone ! There is still hope ! There is yet one chance ! ** I pray to Her in my extremity ! To Her, whom I drew from the starry realms with my pure adept- ship in days of old. * ¥i ¥f * * " My prayer is answered, and she sits beside me. She is pleading, pleading, pleading, for that some- thing which I cannot give. She is with me now, and as she pleads the grim figure again appears. " * Back ! ' she commands, and it falls away from her, but with sinister mien beckon to me, and whispers giimly : " ' At twelve co-morrow I return ! ' *' It has gone, and she has promised to meet me at that hour, or before, if there is hope. EARTH-BORN. 255 " The first grey streaks of dawn appear, and now 1 rest. If I can but get the Cabahstic Lemurian prayer which I have lost, I may yet cheat Death. " It is the only hope, and she tells me you will bring it. ** Farewell ! Minotti ! Farewell ! Adrian ! Fare- well ! Earth ! Adieu to all ! "JAROSLAV." This was written in a bold hand, and dated that morning. Adrian and Minotti pondered over this strange letter, but it threw no light upon his fir 1I end. The Lemurian prayer he had received. What had it availed him ? Who could tell ? Not those who saw it given. They now examined the large, life-like portrait of Jaroslav in the hallway, and swinging it back, looked for some little time, and finally found a small open- ing. In a moment they had unlocked the recepta- cle, and in it they saw a number of papers, some musty and old, others of later date. In a little drawer they came across a will, and by its side lay a voluminous confession, marked in piain writing : " To be opened only when Count Jaroslav his disap- peared from the face of Earth." They destroyed the other papers as requested, and opening the will, found that it left everything to Adrian, Count Balzac, with the exception of the Jaroslav estates, which he was to hold in trust for Vera, should she return. The will was duly attested and signed. " He evidently knew there was no danger from the real Count Jaroslav. There was no habitation for him to return to that would place him in position to claim his own," said Minotti, 256 EARTH BORN. By this time they thought best to bring the veiled figure of Isis here to the chateau, before it grew dark, as the shadows were already lengthening out- side. So Minotti went after the image promising to likewise make an application at the Conciergerie for the Abb^ Renaud's remains before returning. Adrian sat alone beside the bodies of Vera and Philip. He had a dim and shadowy remembrance of seeing the beautiful fnce of Vera, and of its im- pressing him vividly, but he could not grasp fully the details of their meeting in space, although he had carefully thought it over in his writings the pre- vious night. Philip's objections to her had evidently fled, for his dictation betrayed no sign of ill-will, though me.itioning her frequently. As he looked upon Vera's pure, lovely face, his heart awoke within him, and he felt that should she return, he would willingly make amends for his father's actions toward her by a lifetime of dev(>tion. But his awakening love for Vera did not lift the gloom from his heart when he thought of Eve, and he silently hoped that both could quickly return, and then he felt that his life w^ould be content. Thi? day and night would decide it, and his search would end. But how? Would his presentiment regarding Eve be fulfilled, or would she return ? He pondered deeply over this momentous question until Minotti entered with the wonderful image, placing it carefully upon an ebony Uble in the apartment. The authorities had refused to, or were unable to state what had become of the Abbe Renaud's body, but Minotti intended making a thorough search for it the next day. Minotti silently stood by Adrian's sid< bef F tun woi ing wha in tt solv( At they belo^ diagi the a the r( theg stood the Vi to be it, anc a vast feeble seemii rock, in wor Ast pointir follow, dently, deaf, b feature She \va in a St EARTH-BORN. 257 ;arch iment ? jstion lage, the )le to )ody, :hfor Irian's side, and together they gazed upon the sleepers before them. Philip, by his own confession, did not intend re- turning. Vera, by the prophecy of the veiled image, would I robably awaken some time during the com- ing night. But of her — Eve — the long lost one — what of Eve? And in deep dejection Adrian sat in the fast approaching twilight, and endeavored to solve the question, Minotti sadly watching him. At last Adrian arose, and Minotti suggested that they should visit the secret cave of Charlemagne, below the chateau. So taking the key and the diagram they started, and lighting the lamps of the apartment, took one, and were soon descending the rocky stairway. In a few moments they reached the gallery indicated by the diagram, and soon they stood at the door of the cavern, which, like that of the vault, was made of a single stone, and appeared to be a part of the rocky wall. They soon opened it, and entering were surprised to find themselves in a vast cavern, extending far beyond the rays of their feeble lamp, while before them yawned a black and seemingly deep chasm, with steps cut from the solid rock, leading down — to where ? •' Whtit is this ? " said Adrian, looking about him in wondering curiosity. As he spoke a silent, queer figure joined them, and pointing to the steps below, beckoned for both to follow. It was a peculiar figure. A woman, evi- dently, old and wan, seemingly dumb, probably deaf, bent with age, and with the Hindoo cast of features plainly stamped upon her wrinkled face. She was dressed in faded yellow, and was evidently in a state of somnambula, for she bore no light in 11 258 EARTH-BORN. this dark cavern, and her eyes indicated that con- dition. Without a word they followed her, and down they went, down, it seemed to the two friends, a never ending stairway, anvi finally arriving at the bottom, they cast their eyes around, and looming before them, b:iilt from blocks of solid stone, there plainly rose the slanting side of an Egyptian pyramid, far larger than the one beneath the Chateau Balzac. They sought the entrance, and above it, carved in the stone tablet, they read : " Pyramid 4. Amenophis." They entered, and passing through the narrow, inclined stone passage, they were soon in the main chamber. Before them lay a picture strange and weird. This peculiar apartment was fitted through- out magnificently in the J^ncient style of fittings, re- gardless of expense. Heavy curtains hung in pro- fusion about the walls, embroidered in gold work of rich design. Turkish divans were scattered here and there in restful attitudes and inviting silence. Rugs culled from the richest patterns and most ex- pensive hues of Persia and of Turkey lay upon the polished marble floor. Here gleamed a golden figure of Serapis, and there the four-faced features of Brahma, while every- where in rest and peace together, as though the Earth had not been deluged in blood to convert the unbeliever to their different faiths, were scattered the images of the various gods of the world, ancient and modern. ' , The Turkish Koran lay beside the Indian Vedas. The hieroglyphics of the Egyptian Book of the Dead touched corners with the ancient Hebrew Scrip- EARTH-BORN. 259 s 1 con- they never )ttom, Defore ainly d, far alzac. ed in rrow, main and ough- ts, re- i pro- 5rk of here lence. St ex- n the , and !very- 1 the t the tered icient edas. Dead crip- tures, and everywhere there appeared that cosmo- politanism which was expressed by the words upon the beautiful banner hanging overhead : " All Nations here are Welcome." " We Live to Learn." A curtain at one end evidently shielded an alcove, and there the quiet guide led them, when they had gazed about the larger apartment. Not another person had they seen. Not the slightest indication that anyone had lately been in this elegant chamber, and as they lifted the curtain, both started back in astonishment. Before them, sitting calmly upon a beautiful throne, was — Eve ! The color of life illumined her complexion — the golden hair crowned her lovely face with lifelike coils of shining beauty. Her dress was of pure w hite silk, falling about her in folds of grace and modesty. One rounded arm was thrown carelessly behind her head, which leaned upon it, and partly against the support for the satin canopy above. The other hand fell listlessly into her lap, and held a letter. It was a picture of sleeping beauty, pure, modest, lovely, untainted, and as the two gazed upon it, Adrian suddenly knelt at her feet, and clasped the hand containing the letter, pressed it to his lips, and slowly said from the depths of his truest nature : ** Oh, my beautiful, charming Mother, awake, aw^ake, and return to me." But no answering movement broke the stillness, and the sleeper slept on as before. Adrian bowed his head with anguish, and Minotti 26o EARTH-BORN. silently placed a hand upon liis grief-stricken figure. For a few moments neither spoke, and then Adrian sorrowfully said : ** Tuaa was in error, for the figure stated that both were animated." . " That was last night," returned Minotti, sadly, i " True/' said Adrian, ** and if she was here then her spirit may yet return," and he unfolded the letter he had taken from her hand with trembling fingers. Quickly he read the delicate tracery : " For one short day I have been permitted to re- turn, that at the last hours of his doomed life, I might plead with an utterly lost son of Earth. It has been useless, as those who permitted the supplication knew it would be. " All the dismal night I plead with him, entreating a repentance that he could not feel. Asking a recog- nition he would not' admit of One whom he has wronged the most. " I failed. 'Tis over, and his wretched, outcast spirit soon will pass from this sheath of clay forever. Not till ages hence can he gain pardon. Never again will his restless spirit wander o'er this Earth in human form. " His lives are past ! His future lost ! '* O ! Adami ! — Red Earth, grand and glorious ! How have your children fallen. The tree of knowl- edge leads them oft astray, and warring minds would each command the way to Him, who rules in charity. " Farewell ! Adrian, my beloved son of an Earthly- life. To-night I will send one to cheer you in your loneliness. I must meet his fallen spirit as it passes, and then forever we are parted. " Adieu to Earth — to you, my Adrian — to this frail shell forever. The hour is at hand. I go to him. Farewell ! " KARtH-BORN. 261 Again Adrian and Minotti stood before the veiled image of Isis. Again they looked with sad eyes upon the reclining figures of the dreamless ones. The lamplight cast its shadows over the rich apart- ment, and touched the faces of the sleepers with its silent caress, bringing out in strong relief the fine, spiriUielle features of Vera, in beautiful contrast to the intellectual, melancholy ones of Philip. Night had fallen again over the city, and was far advanced. Outside the wintry snow was falling. Falling like a baptism of purity — over the wrathful passions of men — over the sorrowing hearts of man- kind — over the storm-tossed city. As it fell, Adrian stood with bowed head beside the veiled figure, and felt that each flake dropped upon the grave of his lost aspirations for his lovely Mother — Eve — and buried them under a covering of purer, truer motive, white as the driven snow. " Courage, Adrian, courage," whispered Minotti, placing his arms about the silent figure. " Cast from thy heart all thoughts of self, and a purer, truer adeptship will draw you closer to the throb- bing heart of nature and the highest power. For years I studied and I failed. It has passed. The Earth-Born shadows ne'er shall encompass me again. Cast the wish from vou that stiil holds thy heart." " Cast it from you, Child of Earth," said the veiled figure. " Send it forth, and the night and the shadows will reply." As the veiled image slowly spoke, Adrian lifted his bowed figure, and without a tremor said : " I would not that she should return to Earth, if through His will her life here has been ended." The words ceased, the room faded awav and melted 262 EARTH-BORN. into nothingness, and through the snowy clouds oi Earth around them and above them shone the beauti- ful, clear starlight. Far, far away in the blue ether, travelling toward them like a wonderful line of stellar fire, shot from the furnace of creation, fell a nebulous, glorious path of light. Soon it encircled them, lighting their features with its brilliant purity, and ns ^hey looked through its lo- ; stretch of iPur ; i:atioi>> t :ey saw at the end the wonderful ice-bound < rvcrrv of Neptune. Majestic and grand the cold, clei i gl.r'^'ers shone in the astral light. Deep and fathomless tiie abyss of the crater stretched before them, while the shifting snow flakes drifted here and there, eddying down, down the sides of the frozen glaciers, into the vast depths below. Standing within the ice-bound cavern, fantastically dressed in its weird costume of crystal icicles, while about them fell the drifting snow flakes, were the three figures — haughty, powerful, commanding Li- lith, wearing her crown of the blazing sun. Beauti- ful, spirituclle, star-eyed Eve, pure and tender as a dream of innocence. And beside them Vera — radiant, lovely, fair and fresh as the morning. Down the long and misty vistas of space came the beautiful Vera, and as she sped toward them, these words fell echoing faintly before her, like the last sad notes of a mournful requiem : " Adrian, my cherished Child of Earth, mourn not for Eve. In coming centuries we may meet again. From the starry realm I send you one with my fare- wells and benediction. Adieu ! " Down, down through the glorious, white astral light, drawn by the adeptship of purity, sped the EARTH-BORN. 263 ds of ;auti- racliant vision of beauty. Like sweetest melody from the stars floated her tender greeting : "Adrian, my king, I come to you." Far, far awn to the North, looming above the horizon like an .mpenetrable figure of fate, stood the grand ana awf il shape of Terrasal, his f'ony eyes looking over t! e w.->rld in an unfathomable glance, and h'.r waitin;^- attitude one of sure power and final possession. As they silently gazed upon this luminous, wonder- ful figure, casting its grand reflections over the steely, told, blue icebergs — over the great, wide oceans — over the land and sky — this warning rolled solemnly around the world, echoing in its mountains and its valleys : *' The Earth is mine, and mine alone. Like atoms its peoples ' xist and return to my bosom. They are finite. All— all — Earth-Born." ¥: * * -It ^ * * The vision faded away, Adrian turned his head, and there, standing beside him in the lamplight, Vera, pure and lovely, held out her arms to him with the glad cry : "At last!" ^ -yr «- * -X- * * The long, strange search was ended, and outside the winter's snow still silently fell. Fell like a mantle of charity. Fell like a cloud-born benediction. THE END. THE GREAT m p,.MA/V/5 An Invaluable Food FOR Invalids & Convalesce ts . BECAUSE ; ICaslly DigeBted by th« WEAKEST STOMACH. Useful in domestic economy for making delicious Beef Tea enriching (rravies and boups. I * V 4 Burdock BLOODr THE KEY TO HEALTH unlocks all the clogged secretions of the Stomach, Liver, jBuwels and Blood, carrying off all humors and [impurities from the entire system, correcting Acid- ity, and curingBilioiisness, Dyspepsia, Sick Head- ache, Constipation, Rheumatism, Dropsy, Dry Skin, Dizziness, Jaundice, Heartburn, Nervous |and General Debility, Salt Rheum, Erysipelas, [Scrofula, etc. It purifies and eradicates from the Blood all poisonous humors, from a common Pimple to the worst Scrofulous Sore. • GREAT uable Food •OR Convalesce ts ou eeo' » *' ' CAU8K : ;ested by the • STOMACH, omestic economy elicious Beef Tea ravios and 8oup8. 3AIjTH unlocks he Stomach, Liver, )ff all hnmor3 and ;m,correctingAcid- spepsia, Sick flead- tism, Dropsy, Dry leavtburn, Nervous Rheum, Erysipelas, eradicates from the 3, from a common us Sore.