I interrupted him.

“I must remain!” I said, firmly.  “Do with me whatever you like—­put me in a cell and keep me a prisoner,—­give me any hardship to endure and I will endure it—­but do not turn me away without teaching me something of your peace and power—­the peace and power which Rafel possesses, and which I too must possess if I would help him and be all in all to him—­”

Here I paused, overcome by my own emotion.  Aselzion looked full at me.

“That is your desire?—­to help him and to be all in all to him?” he said—­“Why did you not realise this ages ago?  And even now you have wavered in the allegiance you owe to him—­you have doubted him, though all your inward instincts tell you that he is your soul’s true mate, and that your own heart beats towards him like a bird in a cage beating against the bars towards liberty!”

I was silent.  My fate seemed in a balance,—­but I left it to Aselzion, who, if his power meant anything, could read my thoughts better than I could express them.  He rose from his desk and paced slowly up and down, absorbed in meditation.  Presently he stopped abruptly in front of me.

“If you stay here,” he said—­“you must understand what it means.  It means that you must dwell as one apart in your own room, entirely alone except when summoned to receive instruction—­your meals will be served there—­and you will feel like a criminal undergoing punishment rather than enlightenment—­and you may speak to no one unless spoken to first.  Moreover”—­he interrupted himself and beckoned me to follow him into another room adjoining the one we were in.  Here, leading me to a window, he showed me a very different view from the sunlit landscape and garden I had lately looked upon,- -a dismal square of rank grass in which stood a number of black crosses.

“These do not mark deaths,”—­he said—­“but failures!  Failures—­not in a worldly sense—­but failures in making of life the eternal and creative thing it is—­eternal here and now,—­as long as we shall choose!  Do you seek to be one of them?”

“No,”—­I answered, quietly—­“I shall not fail!”

He gave a slight, impatient sigh.

“So they all said—­they whose records are here”—­and he pointed to the crosses with an impressive gesture—­“Some of the men who have thus left their mark with us, are at this moment among the world’s most brilliant and successful personalities—­wealthy, and in great social request,—­and only they themselves know where the canker lies—­only they are aware of their own futility,—­and they live, knowing that their life must lead into other lives, and dreading that inevitable Change which is bound by law to bring them into whatever position they have chiefly sought!”

His voice was grave and compassionate, and a faint tremor of fear ran through me.