and
without possessions."

Then the Neck replied, "There are treasures below the water as above,
and I desire no earthly riches. But if thou canst tell me how I may
gain a human soul, I will play on till thou shalt bid me cease."

And the hermit said, "I must consider the matter. But I will return
to-morrow at this time and answer thee."

Then the next day he returned as he had said, and the Neck was
waiting impatiently on the lake, and he cried, "What news, my father?"

And the hermit said, "If that at any time some human being will freely
give his life for thee, thou wilt gain a human soul. But thou also
must die the selfsame day."

"The short life for the long one!" cried the Neck; and he played a
melody so full of happiness that the blood danced through the hermit's
veins as if he were a boy again. But the next day when he came as
usual the Neck called to him and said, "My father, I have been
thinking. Thou art aged and feeble, and at the most there are but few
days of life remaining to thee. Moreover, by reason of thy loneliness
even these are a burden. Surely there is none more fit than thou to be
the means of procuring me a human soul. Wherefore I beg of thee, let
us die to-day."

But the hermit cried out angrily, "Wretch! Is this thy gratitude?
Wouldst thou murder me?"

"Nay, old man," replied the Neck, "thou shalt part easily with thy
little fag-end of life. I can play upon my harp a strain of such
surpassing sadness that no human heart that hears it but must break.
And yet the pain of that heartbreak shall be such that thou wilt not
know it from rapture. Moreover, when the sun sets below the water, my
spirit also will depart without suffering. Wherefore I beg of thee,
let us die to-day."

"Truly," said the hermit, "it is because thou art only a Neck, and
nothing better, that thou dost not know the value of human life."

"And art thou a man, possessed already of a soul, and destined for
immortality," cried the Neck, "and dost haggle and grudge to benefit
me by the sacrifice of a few uncertain days, when it is but to
exchange them for the life that knows no end?"

"Our days are always uncertain," replied the hermit; "but existence is
very sweet, even to the most wretched. Moreover, I see not that thou
hast any claim upon mine." Saying which he returned to his cell, but
the Neck, flinging aside his harp, sat upon the water, and wept
bitterly.

Days passed, and the hermit did not show himself, and