with its flying bosom and was
sleeping now in its high places and the air was filled with a mild moony
radiance and a great stillness.

Now let me speak with restraint and exactness. I was not afraid but felt
as I imagine a dog feels in the presence of his master, conscious of a
purpose, a will entirely above his own and incomprehensible, yet to
be obeyed without question. I followed my reading of the command,
bewildered but docile, and understanding nothing but that I was called.

The lights were out. The house dead silent; the familiar veranda
ghostly in the night. And now I saw a white figure at the head of the
steps--Brynhild. She turned and looked over her shoulder, her face
pale in the moon, and made the same gesture with which she summoned her
birds. I knew her meaning, for now we were moving in the same rhythm,
and followed as she took the lead. How shall I describe that strange
night in the jungle. There were fire-flies or dancing points of light
that recalled them. Perhaps she was only thinking them--only thinking
the moon and the quiet, for we were in the world where thought is the
one reality. But they went with us in a cloud and faintly lighted our
way. There were exquisite wafts of perfume from hidden flowers breathing
their dreams to the night. Here and there a drowsy bird stirred and
chirped from the roof of darkness, a low note of content that greeted
her passing. It was a path intricate and winding and how long we went,
and where, I cannot tell. But at last she stooped and parting the boughs
before her we stepped into an open space, and before us--I knew it--I
knew it!--The House of Beauty.

She paused at the foot of the great marble steps and looked at me.

"We have met here already."

I did not wonder--I could not. In the Ninth vibration surprise had
ceased to be. Why had I not recognized her before--O dull of heart! That
was my only thought. We walk blindfold through the profound darkness of
material nature, the blinder because we believe we see it. It is only
when the doors of the material are closed that the world appears to man
as it exists in the eternal truth.

"Did you know this?" I asked, trembling before mystery.

"I knew it, because I am awake. You forgot it in the dull sleep which we
call daily life. But we were here and THEY began the story of the King
who made this house. Tonight we shall hear it. It he story of Beauty
wandering through the world and the world received her not. We