el knives and forks. Here the Christmas
dinner was eaten, and afterward the two began a close conversation.

"Mother," said the youth, "I shall have to leave here to-morrow night. I
should go away so much more contented if I could see you living down in
the village among people. Here you are dwelling alone, far from human
help if you should require it. The winter coming on!"

"Rule! I hate the village! I hate the haunts of human beings! I love the
wilderness and the wild creatures that are around me!"

"But, mother, if you should be taken ill up here alone!"

"I should get well or die; and it would not in the least matter which."

"But you might linger, you might suffer."

"I am used to suffering, and however long I might linger, the end would
come at last. Recovery or death, it would not matter which."

"Oh, Mother Scythia!" said the youth, in a voice full of distress.

"Rule! I am as happy here as my past will permit me to be. I abhor the
haunts of the human! I love the solitude of the wilderness. The time may
come when you too, lad, shall hate the haunts of the human and long for
the lair of the lion! You will rise, Rule! As sure as flame leaps to the
air, you will rise! The fire within you will kindle into flame! You will
rise! But--beware the love of woman and the pride of place! See!
Listen!"

The face of the weird woman changed--became ashen gray, her form became
rigid, her eyes were fixed, her gaze was afar off in distant space.

"What is it, mother?" anxiously demanded the youth.

"I see your future and the emblem of your future--a splendid meteor,
soaring up from the earth to the sky, filling space with light and
glory! Dazzling a million of eyes, then dropping down, down, down into
darkness and nothingness! That is you!"

"Mother Scythia!" exclaimed the youth, in troubled tones.

The weird woman never turned her head, nor withdrew her fearful, far-off
stare into futurity.

"That is you. You are but a poor apprentice. But from this year you will
soar, and soar, and soar to the zenith of place and power among your
fellows! You will be the blazing meteor of the day! You will dazzle all
eyes by the splendor of your success, and then, 'in an instant, in the
twinkling of an eye,' you will drop into night, and nothingness, and be
heard of no more!"

"Mother! Mother Scythia! Wake up! You are dreaming!" said Rule, laying
his hand on the woman's shoulder and gently shaking her.

"Oh, what is this? Rul