The Equinox (Volume I, Number VI)

< THE EQUINOX Edgar Rolles sat curled up Hindu fashion on his bed. The sacred lamp still hissed. At his side lay Ida, her arms stretched out cruciform. She hardly breathed; there was no colour in her face. One would have said the corpse of a martyred virgin. On her white body its own purity hovered like a veil. Edgar Rolles watched the lamp, erect, attentive. It went out. Hardlya hint of grey filtered through the blackness. In his hands he held two threads. “ One is black, and one is white, he mused, and only God knows which is which. So only God knows what is sin. In our darkness we who presume to declare it are liars—Charlatans, groping quacks at the best. Will the sun never dawn? For us on whom the lightning of ecstasy hath flashed for a moment—‘much may be seen by its light’—the light of the tempest. But the Light of the Silver Star? Oh, my Brothers (be began to speak aloud) give me wisdom as you have given me under- standing! Knowledge and grace and power? These are nothing and less than nothing. Is not this a precious thing that you have given into my charge? Am not I too young among you to bear so wonderful a burden? It is the first time that I have dared so far. The Abyssl The Razor- Edgel Frail bridge and sharp! Yet is it not a ray of the Evening Star, a ray of Venus, of the Love Supernal? . . Can I tell black from white? It seems I can—and then the certainty flickers, and I doubt. I doubt. I am always doubting. Perhaps a wise man grows angry, and declares his will. ‘It shall be what o’clock I say it is,’ or . . . seel I lay the threads on her white breast. No doubt remains.” Then clear and loud: “Ave Soror 1 " 128