Prev | Current Page 252 | Next

Stevenson, Burton Egbert, 1872-1962

"The Gloved Hand"


It had a pungent, unpleasant taste, but I could feel it running
through my veins, and it cleared my mind and steadied my nerves as
though by magic. I sat up and looked at the crystal. The other lights
in the room had been switched on, and the sphere lay cold and
lifeless. I passed my hand before my eyes, and looked at it again;
then my eyes sought Silva's. He was smiling softly.
"The visions came," he said. "Your eyes tell me that the visions came.
Is it not so?"
"Yes," I answered; "strange visions, Senor Silva. I wish I knew their
origin."
"Their origin is in the Universal Spirit," he said, quietly. "Even yet
you do not believe."
"No," and I looked again at the crystal. "There are some things past
belief."
"Nothing is past belief," he said, still more quietly, "You think so
because your mind is wrapped in the conventions amid which you exist.
Free it from those wrappings, and you will begin really to live. You
have never known what life is."
"How am I to free it, Senor Silva?" I questioned.
He took a step nearer to me.
"By becoming a disciple of the Holy One," he said, most earnestly.
But I was myself again, and I rose to my feet and shook my head, with
a smile.


Pages:
240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264