"Starting before the dawn I travelled all day by the river and through the forest, till at evening I came to the ruined temple which I knew, and began to climb its broken stair. As I neared the top, a man appeared from beneath the leaning arch that is the gateway of the stair, and stood gazing at the ball of the setting sun. He was an aged man, clad in a linen robe only, very light in colour, with long white beard and hair, a nose hooked like a hawk's beak, and fierce eyes that seemed to pierce those he looked upon and to read their most secret thoughts.
"'Greeting, brother,' he said, speaking in our own tongue, but with a strange accent, and using many words which are unknown to me, 'What brings you here?'
"Then he looked at me awhile, and asked slowly:
"'Say, brother, are you sick at heart?'
"Now, lord, when I heard those words whereof you know the meaning, I was so astounded that I almost fell backwards down the ruined stair, but, recovering myself, I tried him with a sign, and lo, he answered it. Then I tried him with the second sign, and the third, and the fourth, and so on up to the twelfth, and he answered them all, though not always as we use them. Then I paused, and he said:
"'You have passed the door of the Sanctuary, enter, brother, and draw on to the Altar.'
"But I shook my head, for I could not. Next he tried me with various signs and strange words that have to do with the inmost mysteries, but I was not able to answer them, though at times I saw their drift.
"'You have some knowledge,' he said, 'yet you do but stand at the foot of the pyramid, whereas I watch the stars from its crest, warming my hands at the eternal fire.'
"'None of my order have more, lord,' I answered, 'save the very highest.'
"'Then there are higher in the land?' he asked eagerly, but started suddenly, and, looking round, went on without waiting for an answer, 'You are in sorrow, Child of the Heart, and have come from one who was sick to the death; to your business, and perchance we will speak of these matters afterwards.'
"'First, lord,' I said, 'I have brought an offering,' and I set down the basket at his feet.
"'Gifts are good between brethren,' he replied; 'moreover, in this barren place food is welcome. Come hither, daughter, and take what this stranger brings.'
"As he spoke a lady came forward through the archway, dressed like her father, in a white robe of fine fabric, but somewhat worn. I looked at her, and it is truth, lord, that for the second time I went near to falling, for so great was the loveliness of this girl that my heart turned to water within me. Never before had I seen, or even dreamed of, such beauty in a woman."
"To your tale, Molas, to your tale. What has the fashion of a woman's beauty to do with the business of the Heart?" I broke in, angrily.
"I do not know, lord," he answered; "and yet I think that it has to do with all earthly things." Then he continued:
"The lady, whose name was Maya, looked at me carelessly, and took the basket. Following her through the archway to the terrace beyond, I set out the matter of my wife's illness to the doctor—or rather to him who passes as a doctor, and who is named Zibalbay, or Watcher—praying that he would come to the village and minister to her.
"He listened in silence, then took the lock of hair that I had brought with me, and, going to a fire that burned near by, he laid some of the hair upon an ember and watched it as it writhed and shrivelled away.
"'It would be of little use, brother,' he said, sadly, 'seeing that your wife is now dead. I felt her spirit pass us as we talked together in the gateway; still, until I burnt the hair, I did not know whether it was she who went by, or another.'
"Here I may tell you, lord, that, as I found afterwards, my wife departed at that very hour of sunset, though whether the doctor, Zibalbay, guessed that she must die then from the symptoms which I described to him, or whether he has the spirit sight, and saw her, I do not know.
"Still, it seems natural that at that moment of her passing she should come to bid farewell to the husband whom she loved, though I think it is a bad omen for me, and I pray that I may never see that place again. At the least, when I heard him speak thus I did not doubt his truth, for something within me confirmed it, but I hid my face and groaned aloud in the bitterness of my grief.
"Then, taking my hand, Zibalbay, the Watcher, spoke great words to me in a solemn voice that seemed to soothe me as the song of a mother soothes a restless child, for he talked with certainty as one who has knowledge and vision of those who have gone beyond, telling me that this parting was not for long, and that soon I should find her whom I had lost made glorious and folded close to the Heart of Heaven. Then he laid his hand upon my head, and I slept awhile, to wake, sad, indeed, but filled with a strange peace.
"'Food is ready, my brother,' said Zibalbay. 'Eat and rest here this night; to–morrow you can return.'
"Now when we had eaten, Zibalbay spoke to me in the presence of his daughter, who, though a woman, is also of the Order, saying:
"'You are of our Brotherhood, therefore the words I speak will be repeated to none who are not brethren, for I speak upon the Heart.'
"'I hear with the Ears, lord,' I answered.
"'Listen!' he went on. 'I come from far with this maiden, my daughter, and we are not what we seem, but who and what we are now is not the hour to tell. This is the purpose of our coming—to find that which is one, but divided; that which is not lost, but hidden. Perchance, brother, you can point the path to it,' and he paused and looked at me with his piercing eyes.
"Now, lord, I understood to what his words had reference, for are they not part of the ritual of the service 'Opening of the Heart?' Still, because I desired to be sure, and not commit myself, I picked up a piece of burnt wood, and, as though in idleness, bent down, and, by the light of the fire, I drew the half of a heart with a saw–like edge upon the pavement of the chamber where we sat. Then I handed the stick to Zibalbay, who took it and passed it on to his daughter, saying:
"'I have no skill at such arts; finish it, Maya.'
"She smiled, and, kneeling down, traced the half of a face within the outline that I had drawn, saying:
"'Is it enough, or do you need the writing also?'
"'It is enough,' I answered. 'Now, lord, what do you desire?'
"'I desire to know where that which is hidden can be brought to light, and if it dwells in this land, for I have journeyed far to seek it.'
"'It dwells here,' I answered, 'for I have beheld it with my eyes, and he guards it who is its keeper.'
"'Can you lead me to him, brother?'
"'No, for I have no such commands; but perhaps I can bring him to you, though I must journey by sea and land to find him—that is, if he wills to come. Say, what message shall I give? That a stranger whom I have met desires to look upon the holy symbol? It will scarcely bring him so far.'
"'Nay, tell him that the hour is come for "Night" and "Day" to be joined together, that a new sun may shine in a new sky.'
"'I can tell him this, but will he believe it, seeing that I have no proof? Will he not rather think that some cunning stranger and false brother lays a plot to trap him? Give me proofs, lord, or I do not start upon this errand.'
"'Will he believe that which you have seen with your eyes?'
"'He will believe it, for he has trusted me from childhood.'
"'Then look!' said the man, and, opening his robe at the neck, he kneeled down in the light of the fire.
"There, lord, upon his breast hung that which has been hidden from our sight since the sons of Quetzal, the god, ruled in the land, the counterpart of the severed symbol which is upon your breast. That is all my story, lord."