Hamilton looked thoughtful.
“You certainly seem convinced that there is something out of the ordinary there,” said he. “Well, as you know, I’m no sceptic. I’m quite ready to admit that there may be things which science knows nothing of. I went to a séance once, out of pure curiosity, and some really extraordinary things happened, though I imagine that about seventy-five per cent of that sort of thing is trickery. Are you quite sure there’s nothing like that here?”
“Who would gain anything by it? What good would it do? I suppose you mean Dr. Gaunt and his colleague. No, John, you can rule them out. They’re genuine. Gaunt’s shown me some amazing things; he has genuine power. He’s quite won me over to this way of thinking.”
“So it seems. And what’s this ‘ancient wisdom’ he’s teaching you?”
“He calls it ‘theurgic mysticism,’ or the occult philosophy. It is the hidden knowledge which has been handed down for countless ages by a chosen few.”
“That sounds very fine, Tony, but knowledge of what?”
“Knowledge of ourselves first, John, of the human mind and will, and the wonders which they can work. Then knowledge of the answer to the riddle of the Universe. You know, I’ve always lacked a purpose in life — something real to do. I’ve found it now. I’ve always wanted to know what Life was all about — what it all meant. I’m finding out now.”
“Then I’m very glad, Tony. If this occult business helps you at all, carry on by all means. I know Gaunt’s a sound man, and you’ll come to no harm in his hands.”
Tony’s face lit up with pleasure.
“Oh, John. I’m so glad you feel like that about it!” he exclaimed. “I know you’re right. I couldn’t have a better teacher.”
“How is he teaching you?”
“First by training me in concentration. I have to spend hours a day — it was only a few minutes at first — just looking steadily at some object or other, and excluding everything else from my mind. It’s amazing how one improves with practice. At first I couldn’t keep my attention fixed for five minutes even — a host of vague thoughts kept intruding. Now I seem to get right inside the thing I’m meditating on, and see more in it than I ever saw before in a whole landscape. This month I’ve started learning to concentrate on ideas too — with no material object to help — that’s much more difficult.”
Hamilton scratched the back of his hand with his chin.
“It all sounds very interesting, Tony,” he said, “but where does it lead to?”
“Simply to an increase of will-power — merely a means to an end. And when that end is achieved there’s scarcely any limit to the power of the human will.”
“ ‘Man is not subject to the angels, nor to death utterly, save by the weakness of his own feeble will,’ ” quoted Hamilton. “That’s Poe, I fancy. Well, then, what? First this increase of volition, and afterwards…?
“Afterwards the transcendental business — access to higher planes of being — ultimate union with Reality; mystical stuff, you know. However, all that will come later; it means years of work, but it’s immensely worth while, John.”
“If you think so I suppose it must be. It sounds very much like common or garden mysticism to me, though, and I somehow hadn’t thought of you as quite the mystic type, Tony. It needs a tremendous lot of faith to go blindly into the dark like this. I’d have thought you’d wanted quicker results than the mystic way can give, and more certain knowledge of where you were going.”
A little frown gathered on Tony’s face.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said; “I’m getting results already — small, but promising enough. And I shall get the knowledge all right when I’m initiated — “
“Initiated!” exclaimed the other. “There is some sort of Order, then?”
“Rather! Gaunt is Master of the London Chapter.”
Hamilton whistled softly.
“There’s more in this than I thought,” said he. “When will this initiation take place?”
“Early next month.”
“So soon?”
“Yes. You see, Vaughan wants me to have some sort of idea about this occult business so that I can help him destroy the curse. And he wants to do that on September 25th.”
“Why?”
“That is the anniversary of the day upon which the Abbot first pronounced the curse. Apparently it is particularly suitable.”
“Well,” said Hamilton, “that sounds reasonable. But tell me, Tony, aren’t you ever scared of all this business you’re letting yourself in for? It’s so unlike what I’ve ever known of you in the past. You’ve never taken anything so seriously before.”
“I know, John. That’s been my trouble: never could take anything seriously. Well, this is serious: deadly serious. I’ve got to smash the curse. I feel that I am the one to set Kestrel free. The only way I can do it is by learning all I can of the inner workings of such matters, and then putting myself freely into the hands of a real expert like Vaughan.”
“But that is not your only reason for taking up these occult studies? You are fascinated by the whole thing?”
“Not altogether, John. It is fascinating, of course, but then it promises unlimited knowledge and power.”
“I’m not at all sure that they are desirable, Tony.” Hamilton’s voice was quiet, but very serious. “I don’t want to damp you ardour, but I suppose you know what all this would have been called a couple of hundred years ago?”
“Yes, John. I know what you’re going to say. Magic, wasn’t it? Odd how the word has deteriorated. Nowadays it means sleight-of-hand and conjuring tricks. Rabbits from top-hats. Then it meant — what? All power and all knowledge. It’s a big thing, John.”
There was a long silence after Tony had finished speaking, while the two friends sat, not looking at each other, but gazing across the sea to the distant Cornish coast. Overhead a gull slid by on motionless wings. All else was still as a painted picture in the hot sunlight.
When Tony broke the silence his voice was almost timid:
“John, does it interest you at all? I mean — would you care to join me? Have you never wanted anything more from life than just — just living?”
Hamilton smiled, and, taking his pipe from his mouth, knocked it out on a stone.
“Just living is good enough for me, Tony,” he said. “But then I’m differently made from you. I have, I suppose, some sort of artistic sense, insight — call it what you will. At all events I can see beneath the surface of life to a certain extent, and feel the grand adventure of it all; the golden glory of success; the exquisite pain of ecstasy; the quiet peace of happiness; the blood-red, royal road of agony.
“I have seen something of the heroism which goes on continually in other people’s lives — in the struggles of the very poor, the repressed, the aged, the forgotten. I try, in my humble way, to set down on paper a record of these things, that other people may see with my eyes the things they cannot see for themselves. Whether I succeed or not is quite another matter, but the effort is there. My cup of life is full to the brim, Tony. I have no room for anything more. And when I have drained it to the dregs I will face the last and greatest adventure of all with a quiet mind.”
Tony was deeply impressed by Hamilton’s words, but all he said was:
“You are very fortunate, John. I have never experienced these things — never even seen them in others. Certainly I have no purpose like yours — at least, I hadn’t at one time. I have one now, but it seems very remote from your own. Must our paths lie apart now, John? I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, Tony. There is no reason why we should not be friends, in spite of our different motives. One last question, though: do you believe in God?”