. His face
changed and grew longing; his keen eyes dimmed. Quite suddenly he rose
to his knees, kneeling as he had seen Eldris kneel, and clasped his
hands as Eldris had clasped hers.

"Oh, Little Brother of the World, if thou lovest all men, love me also,
for I have no one else. When I have sought love, it hath ever turned
from me, prospering nothing. But since it seemeth that all men must love
something, woman, or fame, or gold, it may be that it is not for me to
love one woman only, but all men. If it be that I must choose, I will
lose love of woman, and love of friend, and love of child; I will live
alone to the end of my days, if but this soul of mine, which singeth in
my loneliness, may return to me and my lips be no longer dumb. Love hath
chained them; let now love set them free. And this my tale shall be
strong as the wind that calls across the hills, and pure as flame, and
great as love which takes in all the world, to the end that it may be
worthy. Mine it is, and mine only; I made it, and it is blood of my
blood and flesh of my flesh, and none may take it from me. Yet it is
all, and I am naught but the voice which speaks."

His voice sank. He sat in silence, looking beyond the sunset, his hands
about his knees.

So slowly the waters closed over the sun, and the day died, and the
shadow of night descended upon Thorney.

VII

Old oaks caught the sunlight in their reaching hands and dropped it down
to earth in flakes of gold; beech and larch and linden reared their tall
heads above the road, and vines clung to them in woven tapestries of
living green. There opened from this road dim forest aisles, veiled in
dusk in which sunbeams quivered, paths of mystery, winding toward
strange twilight worlds where wild wood-creatures wandered. Warm
earth-scents drenched the air; soft sibilant whisperings stirred
overhead, and hidden birds chattered in the leafage.

Here Nicanor sat in the dusk and gold of the forest's afternoon, his
back against a gray tree-trunk, his hands about his knees. Hither every
day he wandered, drinking new life from Earth's brown bosom, with idle
hands and weaving brain. Here, where he had lost his vision, he was
drawn back as by enchantment. He wished to dream again; to conjure forth
the flying figure from the void into which it had vanished. To him it
was more real than reality; for want of the substance he strove to keep
the shadow in his heart.

In the spirit he roamed world-wide, wi