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caught hold of it with both hands, and then, adopting the tactics of a gymnast, I began slowly working my way through the hole feet foremost, like an acrobat going over a horizontal bar. This feat, which required great muscular strength, flexibility, and tenaciousness, was the very hardest physical performance I ever accomplished, for, besides being unable to get a firm grip on it, I found, to my dismay, that the great pillar I clung to was insecure in its position, and threatened to fall and crush me beneath its weight. And as inch by inch I slowly and persistently worked my way upward and outward, so inch by inch did it slowly, but surely, work its way downward. Passing my feet and legs beyond the brink of the opening, I doubled myself up in such a way that the lower half of my body rested upon a sort of a level platform, and, with head downward, I pushed my way up until I found myself kneeling upon the crust I had previously broken through, and which I subsequently decided must have been a great pane of glass, covered by the coagulated settlings of the air, which for centuries had been forming a solid coating. I remained in a kneeling position for several moments, catching my breath and regaining strength. I feared to move, lest the thin layer upon which I rested would once more give way beneath me. It appeared to waver, as did everything else around me. After a short rest, I carefully arose to a standing position, and then observed that I was located in a sort of a pit, surrounded by rocks of various shapes and sizes. As I cautiously climbed upward, each one of them appeared to tremble at my very touch, until just as I reached the topmost point the whole mass apparently gave way at once, I lost my balance and fell forward, there was a terrible crash, and after that I became dizzy and confused.

The most peculiar and disconnected sensations then passed through my mind. First I thought there was a great hole in the side of my head, which I tried to fill with small stones. Then my head became full of holes, and finally I fancied that I possessed a half dozen heads and all of them were cut and bleeding. And then apparently all of these heads were suddenly and mysteriously severed from my body, and floated away in space like a lot of toy balloons. Following that, it felt as if every bone in my body had been broken, and I was taking these bones from their places and trying to repair them. Then I imagined that I had several different bodies, and all of them were bruised and mangled. These forms increased in numbers until I could see nothing else but them, and they appeared to be struggling to extricate themselves from beneath a huge object which seemed to grow in size until it was as large as a mountain. Finally released, they began climbing up the mountain until the summit was reached and then gradually decreased until there was but one left.

"What is the matter with me?" I wondered. "Who am I, what am I, and where do I belong?" I tried to think coherently, but my mind was feeble and incapable of grasping an intelligent thought. Day and night went and came many times, but still I remained on that mountain wondering, wondering, wondering. Sometimes I would expand until I felt larger than the mountain itself; then again I would shrink to the size of a flea. One time I would feel as if I were up near the North Pole, surrounded by ice and freezing to death. At another time I would imagine that I was in the middle of the Sahara Desert, being roasted alive by the scorching rays of the sun. And, still again, I would feel that I was shipwrecked upon a barren island, and was slowly dying for the want of food and water. Sometimes I fancied that I could see ships all about me, and I would yell, and roar at the top of my voice to attract attention, but without results, as they would pass beyond view without taking any notice of me. At other times it seemed that ships would cast their anchors right in front of my eyes, and apparently remain stationed there for weeks and months at a time, and yet no one would come to my assistance. At last there appeared to be ten thousand ships all of the same pattern lowering small boats into the water, and these boats manned by stalwart oarsmen started to race with each other in my direction. What an evenly matched contest. On, on, on they came, bunched closely together, each using the same uniform stroke as if all were guided by the same coxswain. Now they were right upon me. "Great race," I shouted, as they came within hearing distance. "Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" "The poor devil is mad," I fancied I heard someone exclaim, and my mind became a blank.

CHAPTER XXIII

FIRST VOICE: "This is a most peculiar case of enteric fever, in which the patient baffles all medical aid towards a cure. The fellow has been out of his head ever since he was brought here, two months ago, and fancies that he has been in a trance since the time of Noah and the Ark. He has a strange hallucination that he can be awakened from his protracted nap by a kiss from a certain female, whom he describes as Arletta the Beautiful. Although he is as crazy as a loon, yet some of his utterances are really remarkable for the depth of logic they contain. The case has its amusing side also, for every woman by the name of Arletta who visits this hospital cannot resist the temptation of kissing the man, in order to ascertain whether they possess the secret charm to restore his right senses. But so far the osculatory experiment has proved a dire failure. He bears evidence of being a handsome and distinguished person, notwithstanding he is a charity patient, and without friends. His identification is unknown, he having been picked up on the street in his present condition by the police, who had him sent here. I fully believe-but Miss, you are crying. Evidently your nature is too emotional for the sick room, so come, we will pass along."

SECOND VOICE: "No, wait a moment, Doctor. I--I think--I am positive that I know this man. In fact, I was very well acquainted with him a few years ago. It all seems so strange, but-well-you see-he often told me that he loved me. Yes, my name is Arletta, but I did not love him, nor even like him. My father and mother hated him, and we all had to secretly leave home and travel abroad in order for me to avoid his undesirable attentions. But notwithstanding that, my heart now bleeds for him in his terrible plight, and I want to do something for him. My conscience would not allow me to pass along without trying to aid him. You say that in his ravings he claims that a kiss from Arletta would save him. I have never done such a thing before in my life, but now an irresistible force from within has taken possession of me and I feel that it is my duty to try the experiment myself, and see if it will have the effect of restoring his normal condition. Therefore, Doctor, whether this strange method proves efficacious or not, I shall rely upon your honor to keep the secret, and never mention the incident to him. If he knew of it I should die of shame. My parents would disown me for such an act."

As though awakening from a long and profound sleep the aforesaid colloquy seemed to have been impressed upon my mind, and then I opened my eyes and looked about in astonishment. The strangeness of my position and surroundings surprised me beyond expression. I was lying upon my back in a small narrow bed stationed within a large oblong room about one hundred by fifty feet in dimensions. Long rows of little white beds extended from one end of the apartment to the other, each containing the form of a human being. Most of these forms appeared to be soundly sleeping, some lay awake silently meditating, while others tossed about nervously from one position to another as if in terrible agony. An occasional howl of torture rent the air. Moving hither and thither among the different beds were women attired in white dresses and wearing little white caps on their heads. They carried in their hands, spoons, tumblers, trays, and various instruments and vessels of peculiar design.

At the front of my bed stood a man of medium height and build, with a heavy reddish mustache and pointed beard. At one side, half way between the head and foot of my bed, was the figure of a woman, apparently about twenty-one years of age. She was tall, slender, graceful, and magnificently gowned in street clothes. Her head was shapely and covered with an abundance of dark brown hair. Her physiognomy was intellectually strong, and the whole cast of her features showed extraordinary beauty. Her eyes were clear and bright, and expressed a tender and sympathetic nature. She was looking straight at me in a half-startled sort of a manner, and appeared to be backing away from the bed upon which I lay. As my eyes met her steady gaze I involuntarily exclaimed, "Arletta!" Then instantly my memory returned, and I remembered all that had taken place, as explained in the preceding chapters.

Notwithstanding, however, that my mind became clear and well-balanced, I became extremely puzzled as I looked at this beautiful woman, to note that she bore a striking resemblance to the sublime being, who had just passed away among the remnants of Sageland, and I became still further confounded when she timidly approached me and softly said: "You are John Convert, are you not?"

"Yes," answered I, "that is my name."

"And do you recognize me?" inquired she.

"I recognize in you a living demonstration and positive realization of the principle of re-incarnation, as embodied in the Sageman's theory of Natural Law," answered I, slowly and deliberately. "I recognize in you the soul of Arletta, of Sageland, my eternal companion, and a fulfilment of her prophecy that she would be born again. But while I make this declaration with the utmost positiveness, still I am at a loss to understand how such a thing could be, as the soul of that lovely being, having but just left its material body, should according to Natural Law, have attached itself to an embryo form, while you are a full-grown woman." At these words she appeared considerably amazed for a moment, but quickly recovering herself, she said with much sympathy and tenderness of feeling: "Come, now, Mr. Convert, try and think clearly and talk sensibly. Don't you recollect how, three years ago, we became acquainted in Paris; how persistently you followed me all over Europe, then crossed the Atlantic aboard the same steamer, and finally journeyed out West to my home? Don't you remember how angry Papa became, and how he threatened you with dire punishment if you did not stop annoying us?"

"No," said I emphatically, "there must be some mistake, for I have never visited Paris and I distinctly recollect having been in Japan three years ago, as I celebrated my nineteenth birthday in Tokio."

"Now that is absurd," said she, with a mingled look of pity and suppressed amusement. "Three years ago you told me that you were forty years old. Don't you recollect how you once cautioned me not to consider you an old man simply because your hair was white, and how angry you became because I called you Grandpa? Come now, think real hard."

At these words

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