Death of an Adept

Their ascent took them through a shallow gorge which bore signs of having been used as a stone quarry. As they emerged on the other side, Lockhart uttered a muffled exclamation of discovery and hastened forward. The cause of his excitement was a small sapling rooted in a bed of loose earth among a nest of small boulders.

"Acacia!" Lockhart exclaimed softly.

The word brought Adam enlightenment. Acacia was revered among Freemasons, and Lockhart was an ardent Freemason. According to Masonic legend, it was an acacia sprig that had marked out the hidden grave of Hiram Abiff, the master-architect of the temple of Jerusalem and the father of Masonic tradition.

As Lockhart reached out with trembling hands to pluck the sprig from the earth, Adam smiled - for he now knew the general structure that Lockhart's encounter with the Master would take. The older man clasped the sprig to his heart as he hurried on toward the temple above with renewed speed.

The temple was a great domed edifice surrounded on all four sides by a colonnaded porch. Lockhart made his way as if by instinct to a lofty portal in the west facade, where the frieze above was enriched with colored marble and semiprecious stones arranged in a complex pattern of geometric designs. Shining pillars flanked the portal, cast in bronze and polished to the lustre of burnished gold.

At Lockhart's word and touch, the doors parted. Adam followed him through, for he, too, had the Mason's Word. An aisle paved like a chequerboard stretched toward the central crossing, where a dais elevated the high altar beneath the soaring vault of a golden dome. Waiting before the altar stood a tall figure majestically garbed in the white-and-red vestments of a Masonic Templar of the highest degree. When Lockhart would have faltered to a standstill, the figure lifted a white-gauntleted hand and beckoned both men closer with a gesture both of welcome and command.

Adam accompanied Lockhart to the foot of the dais, where the Templar Master accorded them a solemn bow of greeting before accepting Lockhart's acacia sprig and conducting him forward to the altar. From that altar the Templar Master took a furled scroll bound with a tasselled golden cord, reverently setting the acacia sprig in its place between the altar's two tall candles before presenting the scroll to Lockhart with a gentle smile.

The look on Lockhart's face was one of awe, but encouraged by a sign from the Master, he slipped the golden bindings from the scroll and carefully unfurled it. The inscription within was limned in letters of fiery gold, clearly decipherable to Adam from where he stood:

Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

Lockhart gazed at the scroll in tearful wonder, looking up as the Templar Master addressed him by name.

Alan David Lockhart, with honor and love have you discharged all your appointed tasks - and more than was ever asked. Take to your heart these words of immortal favor, knowing that you have been faithful to the last. The battle has been well-fought, and the victory won. Nothing now remains but for you to return Home.

Lockhart's hands trembled as he reverently cradled the scroll to his chest, but a faint shadow disturbed his look of joy.

"Reverend Master, I am awed and humbled to hear such words of grace," he said meekly, "but I think I must not come before I fulfill a promise sworn years ago to one whose love I would never, ever betray. I have lived by my honor, and by the honor of God. To be forsworn at my life's end would set all my life's previous honor at naught, and would do no honor to Him whom I have served."

What promise have you left unfulfilled? the Master inquired.

Lockhart's face took on a sad, wistful expression as he lowered his gaze.

"When my daughter was eight, I promised that on her wedding day I would place her hand in that of her chosen beloved," he said softly. "She - tells me she loves the man who stands beside me, and he has vowed that he loves her." Lock-hart lifted his gaze boldly to the Master's. "If this match is not meant to be, then I have no wish to precipitate an action that will make them both unhappy, merely to satisfy a dying man's last wish. But if he is prepared to cherish her as I have done, then I - would see them wed before I die. Do I ask too much?"

"I think he does not," Adam interposed quietly, "for I have some inkling of the love that lies between Alan Lockhart and his daughter - and of its reflection, in the love that she and I share."