of India."

"Perhaps, but when you study them deeply, you will discover the same
features in both. These common features are manifest in the legend of
'Arivana,' at least. The principal character is that of a young priest
who has consecrated himself, body and soul, to the service of his
divinity, to the holy fire, but in time he is mastered by an earthly
love with all its glow and passion, till his priestly vows dissolve in
its consuming flame."

He stood opposite her, quietly and respectfully, but his voice had an
odd, covert sound, as if something of deeper significance were hidden
beneath this story. Frau von Wallmoden looked up at him suddenly, and
said, gazing earnestly into his face:

"And--the end?"

"The end is death, as in all these legends. The knowledge of the broken
vows comes to light and the guilty ones are offered as a sacrifice to an
enraged deity--the priest perishes in the flames with the woman whom he
loves."

There was a second's pause after the last words were spoken, then
Adelheid rose abruptly; she would end this conversation at once.

"You are right; no doubt the legends do resemble ours; it is only the
old story of sin and atonement."

"Do you call that sin, my dear lady?" Hartmut dropped suddenly the more
formal madame or baroness. "Men call it sin and punish it accordingly,
without any premonition that such a punishment will lead to perfect
happiness. To pass away in a flame of fire after one has enjoyed the
highest earthly joys, and is yet surrounded by them in death. Ah! that
is to die like a god--far better such a death than a long, stupid,
humdrum existence. Eternal, undying love rises like a flaming brand to
the heavens above, in defiance of mankind's sentence--do you not think
such an ending is enviable?"

Adelheid's face was pale, but her voice was as steady and cool as ever,
as she answered:

"No, nothing is enviable but death for a high and holy duty. One can
forgive sin, but can never admire it."

Hartmut bit his lips and gave the slender, white robed figure who stood
near him a threatening glance.

"Ah, what a hard sentence to meet my drama at the outset, for I have
expended all my strength in transfiguring just such love and death. What
if the world's judgment is like yours--I beg your pardon, madame."

He crossed to the divan upon which she had been sitting, where her fan
and the camelia blossom yet lay.

"I thank you," said Adelheid, extending her hand for them,