3537 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
IN PREPARATION 
 The Old, Old Story ; Only Differently Treated 
 
The Legend of hove 
 
 By 
 
 Howard V, Sutherland 
 
 Author of "Idylls of Greece" 
 "The Woman M^ho Could" 
 
 New York 
 
 Desmond FitzGerald^ Inc. 
 
 1911 
 

 Copyright 1911 
 
 By Desmond FitzGerald, Inc. 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 (g)CI.A303275 
 
To 
 THE PIG 
 
 Whose eyes were shadow'd haunts of rest. 
 Whose hair outgloom'd the Night; whose breast 
 Was white as whey. 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 Once upon a time, in the happy days 
 when the harmonies of wind and wave 
 were heard above the grinding of the 
 wheels of life; when the flowers turned 
 upward their faces, expectant of the 
 kisses of the night-angels ; and when 
 the birds sang to the 3"ouths and maid- 
 ens such songs as are never heard to- 
 day, there lived a youth whose name 
 was Yverdel. 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 This youth was the only child of a 
 great prince and warrior, Cholef de 
 Coeur d'Or, whose dominions were sit- 
 uated in a now long-forgotten corner of 
 the Old World. 
 
 The castle in which he resided was 
 a huge pile as awe-inspiring as the 
 massy rock that upheld it ; a castle be- 
 neath whose windows the clouds drifted, 
 and upon whose dizzy turrets the far- 
 seeing eagles rested. Despite its seem- 
 ingly impregnable position, this castle 
 was surrounded by a deep moat, hol- 
 lowed from the very rock, and filled at 
 all times with water from a spring whose 
 source was protected within the gloomi- 
 est vault of the castle itself. Only the 
 strongest bowman was able to shoot an 
 arrow over the moat, which could be 
 crossed by the inhabitants of the castle 
 by a tremendous drawbridge, responding 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 slowly to the movement of huge and 
 clanking chains. 
 
 Why the castle was so strongly forti- 
 fied no one knew, for Cholef de Coeur 
 d'Or's nearest neighbor was a certain 
 King Ba, and he lived fully fifty miles 
 away. This King Ba, it must be said, 
 was a powerful and tyrannical ruler 
 who had castles with moats and draw- 
 bridges of his own. His name, however, 
 was seldom mentioned in polite society; 
 for, besides being heartily disliked by 
 rich and poor for his tyranny, he had 
 the unsavory reputation of being a 
 magician. He was, moreover, the owner 
 of the Flaming Topaz of the Smaragds. 
 
 To dabble in the black arts was ac- 
 counted a great sin in those days ; and to 
 own the Flaming Topaz of the Sma- 
 ragds was enough to arouse the hostil- 
 ity, and awaken the envy, of all the 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 knights of Cliristendoni. In a little 
 while you shall be told why. Had there 
 lived a king powerful enough to pick a 
 quarrel with him, King Ba might have 
 been seriously inconvenienced ; as it was 
 his belted brothers left him severely alone, 
 and he, being somewhat cynical, felt not 
 a whit the worse for their behavior. 
 
 The chronicles of the time relate that 
 when Cholef de Coeur d'Or and the 
 wicked King Ba were entering upon 
 manhood they were quite friendly. To- 
 gether they made an excursion to the 
 great-granddaughter of the Witch of 
 Lut, a fortune-teller and personage of 
 no small repute in her day, who lived 
 in Persia. It took the young men 
 many, many months to reach her cave 
 in the Kordufeb Desert, and many of 
 their retainers perished by the way ; but 
 at last they found her, and finally asked 
 4» 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 her how they could best become wise and 
 famous men. 
 
 For many minutes the Witch made 
 no reply. Her shaggy eyebrows 
 twitched convulsively ; her underlip 
 hung almost to her breast, disclosing 
 a row of yellow teeth from which the 
 gums had long ago receded ; her gnarled 
 and taloned hands moved waveringly in 
 the air ; and her gray eyes, over which 
 grayer shrouds were beginning to 
 gather, seemed to pierce the very air 
 that trembled above the desert. Pres- 
 ently her hands fell into her lap, her 
 eyebrows ceased twitching, her hideous 
 lip resumed its natural place and she 
 spoke, and her voice was like the hiss 
 of a venomous serpent before it 
 strikes. 
 
 While the two young men watched 
 her in fear and trembling, she told them 
 5 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 she had in her possession a book which 
 contained the latest secrets about 
 necromancy, astrology, palmistry, and 
 faith-healing, together with a full ex- 
 planation of the number Four, by 
 which any one would be able to gain a 
 perfect understanding of everything 
 on, above, and below the earth, and 
 which would also reveal to its possessor 
 the whereabouts of the Flaming Topaz 
 of the Smaragds. This jewel, she went 
 on to say, gave to its wearer control 
 over the elements and the powers of 
 darkness ; over the fairies and elves of 
 woods, and groves, and fields ; of mead- 
 ows and hills and caves ; of hearths, 
 and homes, and seas, and rivers. Upon 
 its surface, as upon that of the famous 
 Cup of Jamshyd, was portrayed what- 
 ever the owner wished to behold. It 
 was, indeed, a wonderful jewel, and 
 6 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 no less marvellous than the coveted 
 book. 
 
 But these things, she said, shaking 
 her head, were not to be acquired for 
 nothing. Oh, no! He who would own 
 the book, and then the Flaming Topaz 
 of the Smaragds, must do something 
 which, as yet, no one had been willing 
 to do. Even Schmring, the three-eyed 
 king of the Groogloobees, who walked 
 backwards and took their sustenance 
 through holes in their arm-pits, had re- 
 fused to acquire the book at its stipu- 
 lated price. Tonsk, Lord of the Urals, 
 had returned home without it, and so 
 had Pthiptho, whose subjects occupied 
 the plains between Mjur and Nardjibul. 
 With evident pleasure the Witch mum- 
 bled these names to herself, forgetting 
 the young men who stood before her; 
 but presently she rose to her feet and, 
 
 7 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 leaning heavily on her staff, told them 
 the precious volume would be given only 
 to him who was willing to part with his 
 own soul and that of his firstborn! 
 The former was to be claimed after 
 death, the latter only during the life 
 of the child. When the owner of the 
 unique volume died, his soul would be 
 borne away to eternal torments ; the 
 soul of the child, on the other hand, 
 would be released by death forever and 
 forever. 
 
 " The child shall be soulless," she 
 muttered. " The child shall have no 
 soul." 
 
 But even in those days children were 
 never counted until they were hatched, 
 and so King Ba thought the whole thing 
 very ridiculous, and burst out laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 Now Cholef de Coeur d'Or, who was 
 
 8 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 a most worthy and valiant young man, 
 shuddered as the Witch turned on him 
 her baleful gaze; he vowed he would 
 sooner trust to fate and his own right 
 arm, or in the possibility of making a 
 rich marriage, than buy knowledge and 
 power at such a fearful price. But his 
 companion. King Ba, laughed boast- 
 fully, and demanded the book at once, 
 saying he was willing to agree to the 
 terms if in the meanwhile he could not 
 think out a scheme by which the con- 
 tract might be broken. Smiling grimly, 
 the Witch hobbled into her cave, whence 
 she presently issued bearing in her lean 
 arms a thick quarto volume with uncut 
 edges and a superior binding ; and after 
 having made King Ba sign the agree- 
 ment in red and blue blood, she handed 
 it over to him, and bade the youths 
 depart. 
 
 9 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 The chronicles further state that on 
 the homeward journey Cholef de Coeur 
 d'Or offered to carry the book for his 
 friend. The retainer who vouched for 
 this says that King Ba winked his left 
 eye and said nothing, but the book was 
 never out of his possession. He carried 
 it by day and slept on it each night, 
 and Cholef de Cceur d'Or never so much 
 as peeped inside its covers. It is, more- 
 over, presumed that the incident caused 
 a coolness between the two young men, 
 a coolness which lasted even until they 
 married and had children. And it is 
 further surmised that the coolness be- 
 came eventually a dislike, and the dis- 
 like akin to hatred; and it was only a 
 wholesome fear of each other's power 
 that kept one from attacking the other. 
 
 King Ba called his firstborn, a girl, 
 Eidole, because she was made to be wor- 
 10 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 shipped. He had possessed himself of 
 the Flaming Topaz of the Smaragds, 
 and now lived with his daughter in abso- 
 lute seclusion, fearful lest they met with 
 a fatal accident, when the powers of 
 darkness would demand of him his own 
 soul in exchange for that of his beauti- 
 ful child. 
 
 When my story opens, Yverdel, the 
 son of Cholef de Coeur d'Or, was a youth 
 of twenty summers. His mother, who 
 had died shortly after his birth, was a 
 lovely woman, and from her he had in- 
 herited his perfect beauty, sweetness of 
 disposition, and nobility of character. 
 For youths were indeed noble in those 
 days. They were trained amid strong- 
 thewed warriors and gray-haired min- 
 strels ; they learned the arts of war, of 
 the chase, of music, and of song. They 
 were taught to be respectful to their 
 11 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 elders, courteous to their equals, and 
 considerate of those beneath them in 
 station. Of young ladies thej knew but 
 little ; the only woman who entered their 
 lives was the Madonna, and that is why 
 they remained true to their ladies when 
 they became men. 
 
 In early boyhood, after the few hours 
 devoted to the perusal of missals were 
 over, Yverdel was allowed to do just as 
 he pleased. There being no other chil- 
 dren of his age in the castle, it was 
 his custom to sit and dream in the little 
 oratory, where everything was so 
 hushed that one could almost hear the 
 whispering of the angels as they stood 
 by the leaded windows or lingered be- 
 side the marble altar ; or he would wan- 
 der out into the great fir forests, where 
 he would lie on the scented, brown car- 
 pet, watching the glinting webs that 
 12 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 hung from bough to bough and dream- 
 ing the dreams of boyhood. Thus in 
 fancy he was led away into the secret 
 paths of fairyland ; or he would peer 
 into the depths of a motionless pool, 
 and, Narcissus-like, growing sad at the 
 reflection of his own sweet beauty, 
 would grasp at it, and wonder why it 
 always eluded him. Then he would rove 
 again into the shadows of the woods to 
 where the doves had their nests, and 
 would sing to them of his growing dis- 
 content and ask them why it was. But 
 the doves, who had gone through it all 
 that very Spring, only sighed and said 
 nothing. The male dove nestled per- 
 haps a little closer to its mate ; but 
 Yverdel could not see that — so, of 
 course, he was none the wiser. 
 
 When the summer was over, the en- 
 tire forest was covered with snow ; but 
 13 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 the boy loved it then all the more. For 
 in those days the elves and other forest 
 folk held high festivals in winter-time. 
 At midnight they danced around the 
 tallest fir-tree, and fortunate indeed was 
 the man or woman who, without 
 disturbing their revels, could watch 
 them. Never as yet had Yverdel seen 
 them ; but the oldest crone in the castle 
 told a tale of how a poor peasant, who 
 had lost his way in the blinding snow, 
 was found dead beneath a fir-tree, with 
 a heap of cones piled on top of him to 
 keep his body from the teeth of the 
 hungry wolves. In each of his cold, 
 white hands lay a snowdrop. And this, 
 said the trembling crone, was a proof 
 that the elves had found him — for any 
 one else would have folded his hands 
 upon his breast and placed a wooden 
 cross therein. 
 
 U 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 Thus it was that Yverdel passed the 
 years of his boyhood, among the trees 
 and the singing birds, with the fairies, 
 or beside the silent waters. As the 
 flowers open to the sun, so his heart 
 opened naturally to beauty. But as he 
 grew older, he began to want something 
 more. Not that he did not believe as 
 of yore in the flowers and the birds, or 
 that they no longer appealed to him ; 
 but something seemed to be wanting — 
 one link to make the chain of his life 
 complete. And as the birds would not, 
 or could not tell him what it was, he 
 determined to find elsewhere the answer 
 to his heart's questioning. 
 
 (O, Beloved, why is it that the song- 
 birds, God's humble choristers, may not 
 reveal to us the things the heart yearns 
 to know, and which might make us 
 happy? Could they but tell us — for, 
 15 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 surely, the song-birds know! — the se- 
 crets they see inscribed on the snow- 
 white pages of the great Book of Life, 
 which lies open at the portal of heaven, 
 how much pain could be spared our 
 quivering hearts ; how many murmurs 
 would become anthems of praise and 
 happiness, and swell the praise-waves 
 that lave the threshold of the Holy of 
 Holies!) 
 
 One evening, when Yverdel was sit- 
 ting near the log fire in the great feast- 
 hall of the castle, listening to the me- 
 lodious strains of a white-haired, blind 
 harpist, he became very unhappy. 
 Presently the touching music drew tears 
 to his eyes, and he shyly approached the 
 player and told him of his sorrow, ask- 
 ing why no one could give him consola- 
 tion. The old man laid aside his harp, 
 and, groping for the lad, drew the 
 
 16 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 golden head upon the folds of his white 
 robe. There he pressed him closely 
 for a while, until the scalding tears 
 ceased flowing, and then he said : " My 
 little Prince, beneath the branches of 
 an elm within the silent Gardens of the 
 Dead there once grew a shy wild pansy. 
 Within the Gardens all was very, very 
 beautiful, but very, very still. Every 
 day the little flower would look up to 
 the great Sun, pleading that he, for 
 sweet pity's sake, would stay a while 
 and play. But the haughty Sun gave 
 no answer — only passed on. 
 
 " And when with night came the 
 Moon, the pansy felt sure that one with 
 so pale and sad a face would have pity 
 in her heart ; so it cried to her to tarry a 
 while on her journey, and play. But 
 the Moon said nothing — only passed on. 
 
 " The giddy Stars would not even 
 
 17 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 look at the little griever, but followed 
 the path of their mistress ; and so the 
 pansy was left alone to grieve beneath 
 the silent elm. 
 
 " But one evening, grown weary with 
 ministering to the unhappy, there wan- 
 dered into those silence-haunted gardens 
 the loving and immortal Gardener. 
 Being tired, and somewhat sad, he 
 happened to sit beneath the elm, 
 and, looking down, saw at His 
 feet the tear-stained face of the 
 pansy, wistful even in sleep. His 
 eyes grew soft with compassion, and 
 presently He, too, passed on. But 
 when the pansy awoke next morning, 
 beside it was a bright-faced daisy, peep- 
 ing expectantly from the fragrant soil. 
 Happy now and content, the two flow- 
 ers told each other their dreams, laugh- 
 ing at the rage of the Winds, and car- 
 18 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 ing nothing for the proud Sun, the 
 frigid Moon, or the frivolous Stars. 
 Day by day they became dearer and 
 fairer to eacli other, and, enjoying to 
 the full every hour of life, awaited with- 
 out fear the return of the Gardener to 
 transplant them to a happier and 
 brighter land." 
 
 The boy looked into the calm old 
 face above him, and gravely asked how 
 the daisy could possibly help the pansy 
 in its sori'ow, and who was the Immortal 
 Gardener, and what the story had to do 
 with his own life? The old man, telling 
 him to think it over, took up his harp 
 and played a very sweet air. And soon 
 the meaning dawned upon the boy, for 
 he kissed the harpist on his lidded eyes, 
 then laughed happily and ran away. 
 
 19 
 
Le Diablon was the name of the castle 
 wherein resided the vricked King Ba 
 with his soulless daughter, the Princess 
 Eidole. 
 
 It was, indeed, a grewsome-looking 
 place, a menace in granite ; and trem- 
 bling merchants, knights and bearded 
 pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, 
 though wearied by the da^^'s journey, 
 preferring night in the forest to night- 
 mare within its walls, passed on with 
 an imprecation and speedily left it be- 
 hind. Within the castle there were no 
 white servants, King Ba mistrusting 
 them, one and all, and having secured 
 the services of well-trained negro mutes 
 to attend to his wants and those of his 
 beautiful daughter. 
 
 The King spent all day and the 
 20 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 greater part of the night in his labora- 
 tory, where, with face protected by a 
 crystal mask and hands encased in 
 gauntlets of steel, he toiled to discover 
 the secret of the essence of the soul. 
 It was a matter of great importance 
 to him, for only by so doing could he 
 hope to escape the clutches of Satan, 
 when the latter demanded of him his 
 soul, which, as you will remember, was 
 to take place in the solemn hour of his 
 death. 
 
 And morn after morn, noon after 
 noon, and night after night, the Prin- 
 cess Eidole sat motionless in her cham- 
 ber, hearing only the ticking of the 
 death-watch within the wall, and the 
 gnawing of the rats beneath the oaken 
 floor. Sometimes the bloated things 
 came out and crawled over her tiny 
 feet. Yet she heeded them not ; for 
 21 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 morn after inorn, noon after noon, and 
 night after night, she was thinking, 
 thinking, thinking — thinking of some- 
 thing she knew she should possess, and 
 yet had never known. Motionless she 
 sat in the gloom of her guarded cham- 
 ber, dressed in a gown as gray as a 
 dusty spider's web, her hands folded in 
 her lap, her gaze seeming to burn 
 through the floor with its terrible and 
 never moderating intensity. 
 
 Yet she saw nothing, heard nothing, 
 and knew nothing ; and certainly knew 
 nothing of that which she was seek- 
 ing. 
 
 And while the Princess Eidole sat in 
 her chamber, wondering what it was 
 that had never been hers, her father 
 was groaning and cursing over his 
 fruitless efforts to counterfeit the soul 
 he so soon might lose. He was too busy 
 22 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 to even talk to his daughter. He 
 thought only of how time was flying and 
 how hopeless it seemed to elude his fate. 
 He no longer found pleasure in reading 
 his wonderful book, and he no longer 
 gazed on the surface of the marvellous 
 Topaz of the Smaragds. And thus 
 they lived in Le Diablon, day after day, 
 noon after noon, and night after night, 
 among the gnawing rats and the negro 
 mutes, the spiders and the ever-ticking 
 death-watch. 
 
 Now, King Ba was a very avaricious 
 man; and often, when resting from his 
 labors in the laboratory, he had envied 
 the good fortune of his neighbor, Cholef 
 de Coeur d'Or, whose lands were more 
 fruitful and valuable than his own. 
 After much thought and deliberation, 
 and afraid to attack him outright, he 
 conceived the idea of wedding his daugh- 
 23 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 ter to the young Prince Yverdel. This 
 he imagined, would bring him one step 
 nearer his desire, and upon a befitting 
 occasion he hoped to put Cholef de Coeur 
 d'Or out of the way, and then play the 
 part of benevolent guardian to the un- 
 suspecting children. 
 
 In the pleasure this project afforded 
 him, King Ba even forgot his other dis- 
 appointments ; but one afternoon, while 
 he was drinking deeply from flagons of 
 Rhenish and Burgundy, who should ap- 
 pear before him, as if out of the very 
 air, but the great-granddaughter of the 
 Witch of Lut ! Without even apologiz- 
 ing for shocking the King's already un- 
 steady nerves, she horrified him with the 
 menace of her shrivelled and taloned 
 hands, and hissingly told him the Prin- 
 cess Eidole must ever remain single, 
 otheiTvise the compact would be broken 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 and her soul would be returned to her 
 before the stipulated time. 
 
 " And what about mine ? " asked the 
 King, hiding his satisfaction at this 
 remarkable news, and endeavoring to 
 look unconcerned. 
 
 But the Witch only grinned and 
 cawed at him, still weaving his fate 
 about him with her terrible old hands. 
 For many minutes she did this, making 
 no reply to his question; and then, 
 pushing her hideous lower lip into the 
 hole that contained her yellow teeth, she 
 suddenly disappeared, shocking the air 
 with a noise like a ghostly jackal's 
 laughter. 
 
 " The marriage must take place at 
 once ! " said the King, and hurriedly 
 emptied his flagons. " She shall have 
 every advantage. And when I've saved 
 her soul I'll cheat the Devil of his due 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 and save my own. A fig for the Witch 
 of Lut!" 
 
 Without telling his daughter his 
 plans, he threw open the castle to all 
 comers. He engaged new servants with 
 white faces and soiled linen, and treated 
 the Princess Eidole to a course of eti- 
 quette, French, and Delsarte; so that 
 after three months she became quite pre- 
 sentable, and was every inch a lady. 
 
 36 
 
\. 
 
 One glorious Spring morning, at the 
 delicious hour when the birds cease their 
 matins, a trumpeter, dressed in flesh- 
 ings and a robe of salmon and green 
 decorated with the signs of the Zodiac, 
 and borne by a richly caparisoned Bar- 
 bary steed, approached the gates of the 
 castle of Cholef de Coeur d'Or, demand- 
 ing the reception in fitting style of 
 King Ba and his daughter, the Prin- 
 cess Eidole. 
 
 Once only did the silvery notes of his 
 trumpet quiver on the crisp air; before 
 it was necessary to repeat the sum- 
 mons the great drawbridge was lowered, 
 and a gallantly attired page ap- 
 proached the outrider, bearing mes- 
 sages of welcome from Cholef de Coeur 
 d'Or to the King and his entire retinue. 
 27 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 Inside the castle all was hurry and 
 bustle. The gray-haired retainers be- 
 gan to think of the old times, when the 
 arrival of a sprinkling of kings and 
 princesses was a weekly occurrence ; the 
 seneschal saw to it that fresh reeds 
 were strewed in all the rooms ; the cel- 
 larmen tapped their huge casks signifi- 
 cantly, and the cooks took a keener in- 
 terest than usual in the welfare of their 
 pigs and poultry. The blind harpist 
 tuned anew his harp, and tried to re- 
 member snatches of quaint melodies 
 which haunted his memory like half-for- 
 gotten dreams. Yverdel tried to im- 
 agine what the Princess Eidole looked 
 like; and his father wondered what the 
 deuce had entered King Ba's head to 
 make him pay so unexpected a 
 call. 
 
 Wondering, however, did no good; 
 28 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 and, before long, the neighing of horses 
 and jingling of silver bells announced 
 the arrival in the courtyard of his fair 
 guest and her illustrious father. 
 
 With a courtly smile and bow, Cholef 
 de Coeur d'Or helped Eidole from her 
 horse, and then, having exchanged 
 greetings with the King, escorted them 
 to the great hall, whence the serving- 
 women led the Princess to the apart- 
 ments allotted her. 
 
 Yverdel, who all this time had been 
 standing behind a pillar, feasting his 
 eyes on the girl, ran to the blind harp- 
 ist and described to him the scene. 
 
 " What is the Princess like, my 
 Prince.? " the old man inquired. 
 
 " She is beautiful," answered the boy, 
 his heart beating wildly. 
 
 " Very beautiful ? " asked the harp- 
 ist. 
 
 29 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 The boy nodded his head slowly. 
 " Very, very beautiful," he continued, 
 as though he had not heard the ques- 
 tion. " Her face is as pale and calm as 
 the moon on a night of frost; and 
 masses of soft, black hair fall down to 
 her hidden knees. Once, as she looked 
 past me, I saw into her eyes, and it 
 seemed as though I were looking into 
 eternity — but it was an eternity with 
 nothing beyond. Her mouth is a well 
 of love ; but the waters thereof may be 
 bitter, for she seldom speaks, and never, 
 never smiles ; and from her person there 
 emanates a scarcely perceptible yet 
 alluring perfume, like the odor of the 
 first cool breath of Death as it creeps 
 slowly from out the gray-hued East. 
 She must be about my age," continued 
 the youth, thoughtfully, and with a 
 sigh ; " but she is much wiser. For she 
 80 
 
N. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 looks like one who has known great 
 sorrow; like one who has wandered 
 through the Valley of Eternal Silences 
 to the shores of the Sea of Life, and 
 there has seen the souls of little chil- 
 dren embark hopefully upon the out- 
 flowing tide to return aged and 
 embittered with the flood. And her 
 knowledge has made her sad." 
 
 " Do you like her, my little Prince.'* " 
 asked the old man, sorrowfully. 
 
 And the boy answered, very sweetly: 
 
 " I love her ! " 
 
 * *- * «- * 
 
 While the Princess Eidole was ar- 
 ranging her costume. King Ba and 
 Cholef de Coeur d'Or stepped into a re- 
 tired chamber, and held a hurried con- 
 versation. The King candidly told the 
 Prince it was his fond hope that their 
 two children might fall in love with one 
 31 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 another and inherit their combined pos- 
 sessions. 
 
 Cholef de Coeur d'Or looked rather 
 dubious at the idea of marrying his only 
 son to a girl who had no education what- 
 soever, who liadn't even a soul she might 
 call her own, and whose armorial bear- 
 ings were as blotted over as the manu- 
 scripts of his hired poet ; but, being 
 of a generous disposition, and resolving 
 not to annoy his guest with his mis- 
 givings, said tlic idea was worthy the 
 King's philanthropic nature, and finally 
 gave to it his full consent. 
 
 The affair, they both decided, should 
 be allowed to work itself out ; but, in 
 his heart of hearts, the Prince wondered 
 if the King had not already taken his 
 daughter into his confidence and given 
 her some useful pointers. 
 
 32 
 
%. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 Before sitting down to the great feast 
 that night, Cholef de Coeur d'Or led his 
 son to the Princess Eidole, and pre- 
 sented him to her. Aloof from the oth- 
 ers, with her mysterious eyes gazing 
 stonily into the shadows, she stood be- 
 neath a flaring torch, seemingly uncon- 
 scious of what was going on around. 
 She was, indeed, thinking of other 
 things than banquets ; she was thinking 
 of heavy spiders and scurrying rats, of 
 the dusty webs that tapestried her 
 gloomy chamber in Le Diablon. And 
 she was thinking of her soul. She was 
 dressed in a robe of pale j^ellow. 
 Around her neck hung a magnificent to- 
 paz, the famous Topaz of the Smaragds, 
 and upon her brow lay a circlet of yellow 
 daffodils. Yverdel kissed the hand she 
 extended to him, and later, when they 
 entered the dining hall, stood by her 
 33 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 chair till she languidly bade him sit 
 beside her. 
 
 Heavily laden was the table in front 
 of them. At one end was a huge boar's 
 head, with bristles and tusks complete ; 
 at the other was a haunch of venison 
 large enough to satisfy the wants of a 
 score of hungry beggars. Scattered 
 about lay every kind of bird, fish, and 
 vegetable imaginable, and enormous 
 pasties ; and beside every dish stood 
 silver flagons of ruby and amber-colored 
 wines and sparkling ales. Three and 
 forty people sat down to eat, and all 
 were too busy discussing the viands to 
 talk or look about them— all save 
 two. 
 
 One of these was love-sick Yverdel 
 who watched the Princess eat, and 
 seemed to derive enough nourishment 
 out of that enjoyment to satisfy his 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 own appetite; the other was the jester, 
 who, after a while, nudged the elbow of 
 the Prince, and bade him watch them. 
 Cholef de CcEur d'Or sighed, and whis- 
 pered his fool that his son must be cau- 
 tioned to keep away from her in the fu- 
 ture. The fool replied that it would be 
 as wise to caution the nutmeg to keep 
 away from the grater, or the fish from 
 out the frying pan. So the fool proved 
 his wisdom. 
 
 By eight o'clock the meal was over. 
 Rising from the table, all the company, 
 as was the custom in the good old days 
 of yore, made the sign of the Cross — 
 all save King Ba and the Princess 
 Eidole. So Yverdel made the holy sign 
 twice, once for himself and once for 
 her; and the jester, who saw him do it, 
 winked deliberately five times and then 
 laughed immoderately. 
 36 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 When all who had n mind to were 
 seated around the burning logs, petting 
 the hounds, dozing, or listening to the 
 strains of the harp, Yverdel threw him- 
 self on a bearskin beside the Princess 
 and asked her why she had not made the 
 sign of the Cross after the meal. Then 
 the Princess considered him thought- 
 fully with her fathomless eyes, and, 
 with a half-stifled yawn, answered: 
 
 " Because we do not believe in it. 
 We are descended, as you may have 
 heard, from the thief who repented at 
 the eleventh hour at Golgotha. It is 
 the blackest stain upon our escutcheon, 
 and I have never forgiven him, although, 
 of course, he must have suffered con- 
 siderable agony at the time. One of 
 his teeth was extracted after his death, 
 and has been in the possession of our 
 family ever since. My father curses 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 by it whenever he is in a particularly 
 bad mood. Some day I will show it to 
 you." 
 
 Then Yverdel grew very sad, re- 
 membering all the strange tales he had 
 heard about King Ba, who, like the 
 Stadings, worshipped a black cat, and 
 looked upon Satan as a most maltreated 
 deity. The boy could not understand 
 how so beautiful a girl could believe in 
 so sinful a doctrine ; but when he asked 
 her if she had never been told about the 
 gentle Christ, she only shook her head 
 and stared at the burning logs. Yver- 
 del w^as now kneeling beside her, and 
 presently he took from around his neck 
 a silver chain, to which was attached a 
 little crucifix of carved black wood, and 
 asked her to wear it for his sake. This, 
 at first, the Princess would not do ; but, 
 seeing he took her refusal so much to 
 
 S7 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 heart, she finally accepted the gift and 
 promised to wear it occasionally. 
 
 " Papa does not like me to accept 
 gifts from young men unless they are 
 of value," she murmured. " But, I can 
 persuade him this is antique, you 
 know." 
 
 When he heard this, the heart of the 
 boy became very tender and happy. 
 His father and King Ba were discussing 
 the weather and other impersonal 
 topics, and so he leaned to her, and 
 kissed her cheek, and, taking one of her 
 hands in his, whispered in her ear : " I 
 love you, Eidole ! " 
 
 But the Princess stared at the fire, 
 and said nothing. She had forgotten 
 all about him. 
 
 " You are so beautiful, Eidole ! " the 
 boy continued. " You are more beauti- 
 ful than the modest star that bids us 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 await the blessed Evening, more beauti- 
 ful than the gentle Dusk and the con- 
 secrated Night. You are more beauti- 
 ful than the Madonna in the silent 
 oratory where I whisper prayer." 
 
 But the Princess still stared at the 
 fire, and said nothing. 
 
 " You are the thing I have wanted," 
 he went on, and his voice was as tender 
 as a flute. " In the forest there is only 
 peace, in the meadows only sunshine 
 and fragrance ; when I wander in the 
 woods I hear only the songs of the birds. 
 Others prize these things, but I have 
 been lonely everywhere. Nothing has 
 seemed perfect, because I wanted you." 
 
 But the Princess still stared at the 
 fire, and said nothing. 
 
 Then the boy touched her cheek again 
 with his lips, looking at her wonder- 
 ingly. " Eidole ! Eidole ! " he whispered. 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 passionately. " Don't you hear me? 
 I love you ! I love you ! " 
 
 From the fire she slowly turned her 
 gaze, and, chilling his ardor with the 
 impenetrable mystery of her eyes, she 
 answered : " My mirror tells me that I 
 am beautiful. Can you tell me nothing 
 new? " 
 
 And the boy whispered again, and yet 
 again : " I love you, Eidole ! I love you ! ' ' 
 
 But the Princess only shook her 
 head. " I cannot understand you, lit- 
 tle Prince," she said. " I know what 
 it is to eat, and what it is to drink, and 
 what it is to fall asleep. But what it is 
 to love I really do not know." 
 
 Yverdel leaned still closer to the girl. 
 " You must know," he whispered. " To 
 love is " 
 
 " Yes, yes," she replied, wearily. 
 " Now I remember. To love is Aimer," 
 40 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 then she repeated mechanically: 
 " J^aime, tu aimes, il aime; nous " 
 
 " No, no ! " cried the boy, who knew 
 nothing whatever of her latter-day edu- 
 cation. " That is only one of those 
 horrid French verbs. The love I want 
 to tell you about " 
 
 " I studied so hard," she interrupted. 
 " It really hurt my neck." 
 
 But Yverdel took her hand in his. 
 " When one is in love," he began, 
 " one " 
 
 " Should never eat peas with a 
 knife," said the Princess, remembering 
 page three hundred and fifty-six of her 
 book on etiquette. 
 
 "Oh, Eidole!" cried the boy. 
 " What is the matter with you ? When 
 one is in love one eats nothing. Love 
 is a beautiful pain. Love is a golden 
 
 flame. When one loves " 
 
 41 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 " One should cross one's feet so as 
 to display the ankles," she interrupted, 
 mechanically. " In Delsarte one learns 
 all about it. Please go on talking, lit- 
 tle Prince. Your voice reminds me of 
 the plaintive aspen leaves. You should 
 cultivate it." 
 
 Then the poor boy repeated to her 
 the words, and tried to explain them; 
 but the Princess only shook her head, 
 and said she did not understand what 
 he meant. 
 
 Yverdel then told her the tale of the 
 pansy and the daisy in the Garden of 
 the Dead, and how the Immortal Gar- 
 dener came to take them heavenward, 
 where they could blossom eternally. 
 Then he said that they, too, were hu- 
 man flowers, whose perfect happiness 
 was dependent upon the other's being; 
 and that if she would only love him. 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 and trust the One whose figure was 
 depicted on the Cross, she would earn 
 the right to immortality and happiness 
 when her eyes were closed to the beauty 
 of the world. 
 
 " It is a pretty story," said the 
 Princess, wearily. " You should write 
 it on a vellum scroll, and I will illumi- 
 nate the initial letters." 
 
 But as her soul was still in the pos- 
 session of the powers of darkness, she 
 could understand nothing of love or 
 immortality; and the boy could only 
 hold her hand in his, vainly seeking to 
 give her light, and whispering again 
 and again : " I love you, Eidole ! Won't 
 you love me too .'' " 
 
 Long before the fire burned low, the 
 Princess retired. When she was all 
 alone, she laid the little crucifix upon 
 her snow-white breast. 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 " I wonder what he was talking 
 about?" she murmured. "Love! It 
 is probably a disease to which only very 
 young men are subject. But this," she 
 continued, examining the little crucifix, 
 " is certainly very curious. I wonder 
 if they make them of gold? " And 
 then, after looking at it for a few min- 
 utes, she consulted her mirror and went 
 
 to bed. 
 
 ***** 
 
 But Yverdel was too unhappy to 
 sleep. While his father and King Ba 
 continued to discuss the safe topic of 
 the weather, waxing eloquent over the 
 merits of their respective barometers, 
 he crossed the huge drawbridge and 
 wandered into the forest. After walking 
 for quite a while, bewailing his fate and 
 that of the girl he loved, he heard in 
 the distance a strange noise, as of 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 some one chanting a dirge. Proceeding 
 cautiously beneath the trees, and step- 
 ping with the hghtness of a fawn, he 
 suddenly found himself near a moonlit 
 clearing, in the center of which, dressed 
 in a spangled gown and with a steeple- 
 shaped red hat on her head, was a hid- 
 eous old woman. She was hobbling 
 around in a circle, waving with one 
 hand an ebony rod, and crying out 
 in a cracked and querulous voice: 
 " Memel! memel! Estafa, Kabakosh! " 
 
 What this meant, Yverdel did not 
 know ; but, being of an inquiring turn 
 of mind, and unafraid, he hid himself 
 behind a tree and closely watched the 
 proceedings. Presently a loud rum- 
 bling was heard, and, when at last 
 everything was quiet again, he beheld, 
 emerging from a hole in the ground 
 along with heavy fumes, a horrid, un- 
 46 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 substantial Thing, which swayed about 
 in the chill night air as though impa- 
 tient to return to a more congenial 
 temperature. Then, ceasing her invoca- 
 tion, the old woman made three passes 
 with her hands and hissed like an angry 
 snake, whereupon the Thing muttered: 
 
 " What desirest thou of me, O 
 Sorceress ? " 
 
 " I desire to know," answered the 
 hag, clawing now at her bristled chin, 
 " how much longer the soul of the Prin- 
 cess Eidole shall remain in your pos- 
 session? " 
 
 " Before the moon looks twice again 
 upon this selfsame spot her soul will be 
 in the possession of the powers of 
 light," the Thing answered, swaying to 
 and fro. " Already the angels have pre- 
 pared for her an orb to inhabit, to 
 which shall later be gathered the soul of 
 
 46 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 her boy lover — the fair Prince Yverdel." 
 
 " What more canst thou tell nie, O 
 Spirit ? " questioned the inquisitive old 
 hag. 
 
 " That I have seen it written," an- 
 swered the Thing, " that thou and the 
 false King Ba shall be demanded of 
 the Earth Spirits within that same 
 period. Ye are doomed, and shall be 
 delivered unto the tormentors of souls, 
 to suffer throughout eternity for j'our 
 wickedness." 
 
 Without another word, the Thing 
 then coiled itself slowly into the hole, 
 which closed silently ; and the old hag, 
 after stamping above it till midnight, 
 hanged herself in despair to the limb 
 of an inviting oak. 
 
 " That is enough for one night," said 
 Yverdel, and thoughtfully wandered 
 home. 
 
 47 
 
The next morning, Yverdel went at the 
 accustomed hour into the little oratory 
 to pray. Through the panes of stained 
 glass the sun shone softly, and the 
 youth soon found himself thinking more 
 about the Princess Eidole than of his 
 prayers. By degrees the sunbeams ca- 
 ressed the marble statue of the Blessed 
 Virgin, and the attention of the boy 
 was drawn to it immediately, for he 
 stretched out his hands to it, as though 
 in supplication, and cried : 
 
 " O sweet and gentle Mother ! Thou 
 who hast ever watched over me and 
 heard my murmurings, canst thou not 
 turn the heart of my loved one to me? 
 Mother of the motherless ! wilt thou not 
 pity me for the sake of thy Son, whose 
 wondrous Transfiguration atoned for 
 48 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 His awful sorrow? O Beloved of the 
 weary and the unbeloved ! thou knowest 
 love's joy and love's deep anguish ; leave 
 me not helpless, but lead her to me, and 
 save us both forever." 
 
 Slowly^ the head of the boy drooped 
 upon his arm, and presently into the 
 sunlight stepped the Blessed Virgin, 
 lifting her hands above his form to bless 
 him, the while in womanly sweetness her 
 voice echoed through the hushed chapel. 
 
 " Dreamer," she said, " be not un- 
 happy. The one thou lovest shall some 
 day be given to thee, and shall be to 
 thee the realization of thy fond ideal. 
 Opportunity must first be given her to 
 learn the depth of divine mercy and of 
 thy love. In the meantime thou must 
 tarry upon the earth, until thy soul, 
 purified through thy yearning, burns 
 through thy body's clay, and wings its 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 flight heavenward to bathe amid the 
 glorious brilh'ance of the Eternal. Be 
 undismayed though the shadows of life 
 fall about thee ; for, from the Porch of 
 Paradise, as the stars watch the sleep- 
 ing world, thy loved one shall watch 
 thee, distinguishing thee from all men. 
 And there, until the Angel takes thee 
 hence, she will await thee; the dew 
 shall remind thee of her happy tears, 
 and the roses' fragrance of her awak- 
 ened and undying love." 
 
 The voice ceased, and when the boy 
 awoke he doubted he had dreamed; for 
 the sun no longer warmed the silent ora- 
 tory, and the Blessed Virgin still stood 
 within her niche. Yverdel crept softly 
 to her and looked questioningly into her 
 face ; but it was very calm, and he 
 hardly knew if the expression thereon 
 was one of happiness or sorrow. So 
 50 I 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 he hastily finished his prayers, and then 
 went out to seek the Princess. 
 
 In the courtyard of the castle he 
 found the retainers assembled. They 
 were laughing together, smacking each 
 other on the back, and giving every evi- 
 dence of being in a particularly pleas- 
 ant mood. 
 
 Inquiring of a favorite man-at-arms 
 the cause of this hilarity, the boy was 
 told that a woodcutter had come across 
 a hideous old woman, suspended from a 
 branch of an oak ; and that the body, 
 out of deference to the wish of King 
 Ba, was to be burned in the forest that 
 midnight. 
 
 Telling nobody of what he had seen, 
 not even his friend the old harpist, 
 Yverdel left the merrymakers and tried 
 to find Princess Eidole. But when he 
 knocked at the door of her apartment, 
 
 61 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 and asked to be admitted, she said she 
 was combing her hair and would see him 
 when they sat down to dinner. When 
 he knocked again, and called to her, she 
 would not even reply. 
 
 All alone he spent the day, and in the 
 evening was told that the Princess was 
 still combing her hair and would eat in 
 her own chamber. And so it was with a 
 heavy heart that he sat down to the 
 table, and listened to King Ba tell 
 ghost tales of Le Diablon, hoping there- 
 by to impress his host and his other 
 companions. As the flagons began to 
 circulate. King Ba became more talka- 
 tive than ever. First he told how it 
 was written, in a certain Book of Wis- 
 dom, that the soul of a suicide could 
 not escape until the body wherein it 
 was imprisoned was burned on a pyre 
 of oak boughs ; then, seeing the expect- 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 ant faces around him, he told them 
 how he had settled a long-outstanding 
 grudge against his own brother, who, 
 after an unhappy love-aifair, had died 
 by his own hand, by placing the body 
 in a leaden sarcophagus and commit- 
 ting it to the custody of the sea, thus 
 depriving him of his only chance of im- 
 mortality. When he had told this tale, 
 King Ba laughed so heartily that he 
 had the hiccoughs, and for a time was 
 in danger of dying in his chair; but 
 the man next to him squeezed him so 
 hard below his ribs that he recovered. 
 In return for this attention he was 
 about to tell what he did to cure his 
 wife's aversion to the fiddle, when a 
 servant held aside the tapestries at the 
 end of the banqueting hall, saying it 
 was nearly midnight, and that every- 
 thing was ready for the burning. 
 53 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 Rising noisily from the table, out 
 they trooped — King Ba and Cholef de 
 Coeur d'Or, the jester, and the ever- 
 hungry poet, fifteen or so wandering 
 friars and a sprinkling of migratory 
 hermits, the pages and the father con- 
 fessor, the captain of the guard and 
 his men-at-arms, the head cook and the 
 butler, and all the menials and varlets, 
 and underlings, and bottle-washers, 
 and men-servants and maid-servants, 
 who in those days constituted the house- 
 hold of a feudal baron. Ahead of them 
 went the band, each man with a dif- 
 ferent instrument, and each instrument 
 with an opinion of its own which it 
 endeavored to express as loudly as pos- 
 sible. And behind this uproar, Yver- 
 del followed with lagging feet and a 
 heart that seemed heavier than lead. 
 
 Thus the procession noisily disap- 
 54 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 peared into the gloom of the forest, 
 leaving only one old waiting-woman, the 
 blind harpist, and the Princess Eidole 
 in charge of the silent castle. 
 
 In due time the revellers arrived at 
 their destination. A huge pile of wood 
 confronted them, and upon it could be 
 seen the pitifully lean body of a hideous 
 old woman. When Yverdel saw her, he 
 knew immediately who it was ; but he 
 said nothing. King Ba, on the other 
 hand, became delirious with joy. 
 
 " It is the great-granddaughter of 
 the Witch of Lut ! " he cried. " Look, 
 Cholef ! It is our old friend from the 
 Desert of Kordufeb ! " 
 
 Then seizing a torch from the hands 
 of a page, he darted forward and ap- 
 plied the fire to the wood ; and soon 
 there was a hissing and a crackling and 
 a cracking, that told of bursting and 
 65 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 burning boughs as the flames, envelop- 
 ing the Witch, disappeared leapingly 
 into the monstrous vault of the 
 night. 
 
 Beside himself with joy, King Ba 
 danced with satyr-like movements 
 around the pyre ; and very soon the 
 feeling became contagious, for every 
 one danced ; even the hermits, the friars, 
 the father confessor, and Cholef de Coeur 
 d'Or. Only Yverdel remained apart, 
 sadly watching the flames. But, of a 
 sudden, the dancers became immovable 
 from terror; for the mouth of the 
 Witch opened, and out of it slowly un- 
 furled itself a long, unsubstantial Thing, 
 the same Thing Yverdel had seen in the 
 woods the night before. But now it 
 suddenl}^ descended upon King Ba; it 
 coiled about him and hid him from view, 
 and bore him away, willj^-nilly, shriek- 
 
 56 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 ing through the upper darkness. With 
 white faces and knocking knees the 
 revellers returned to the castle. As 
 they staggered through the forest, no- 
 body spoke except the fool, who nudged 
 Cholef de Coeur d'Or with his elbow, and 
 said : " I told you so ! " 
 
 And thus once more the fool gave 
 
 proof of his wisdom. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Shortly after midnight, the Princess 
 Eidole heard a strange noise at the foot 
 of her bed. Withdrawing her head 
 from underneath the sheets, she had a 
 vision of her beloved father, dead, in 
 the clutches of a fearful monster. For 
 only a second she beheld him, then he 
 seemed to vanish into the darkness, and 
 the silence of the castle was shattered 
 by her awful scream. 
 
 When the old waiting-woman and the 
 6T 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 blind harpist found her, she was lying 
 unconscious on the rush-strewn floor; 
 and though they lifted her tenderly and 
 placed her in her bed, it soon became 
 apparent that she must pass away. 
 Staring before her, as moveless as a 
 thing of marble, she lay there ; and it 
 was with relief that the old couple heard 
 the baying of the dogs below, welcoming 
 the castle's inmates. 
 
 When told of what had befallen his 
 love, Yverdel was heart-broken. He 
 flung himself beside her bed, calling her 
 endearing names and telling her she had 
 nothing to fear now that he was near. 
 But it was all of no avail ; the dark eyes 
 looked at him with a vacant stare; the 
 proud, white lips would not return his 
 kiss ; and the heart within her bosom 
 fluttered as dispassionately as though 
 it were the heart of a bird. 
 68 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 And when the boy saw how hopeless 
 it was, and how minute by minute she 
 was passing away from him, he wept; 
 and his tears warmed her cheek and 
 brought to her lips some slight sugges- 
 tion of color. Then she sighed, and with 
 a frail white hand touched the wavy 
 glory of his hair. It was a small act, 
 but it heartened the unhappy boy. 
 
 " I love you, Eidole ! " he whispered. 
 " Speak once to me before you go." 
 
 Then those around her little bed fell 
 back, and the lover was left alone with 
 her who lay there so quietly. And 
 presently, after she had gazed at him, 
 she touched his hair again. " I al- 
 most understand," she whispered. " I 
 shall know soon. The torches must be 
 burning low, because it seems so dark. 
 I — almost understand." 
 
 But though the boy kissed her cheeks 
 
 69 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 and lips, and told her the torches were 
 burning brightly, she closed her eyes and 
 remained silent. 
 
 Toward dawn, while yet the sky was 
 leaden-hued, a low wind arose and stirred 
 the roses at the casement. The old 
 woman, who had watched faithfully 
 through the night, heard its moaning, 
 and muttered as she closed the window: 
 " It is the cradle-song of Death ! " 
 
 The Princess Eidole heard it, too ; 
 for suddenly she smiled. Her eyes 
 brightened, and saying " I come ! " her 
 head drooped against the shoulder of 
 her lover, and ere he knew it she was 
 dead. 
 
 Along with masses of heliotrope and 
 
 jasmine, she was placed in a casket of 
 
 purest crystal, and left to slumber in 
 
 a quiet grotto dedicated to the iris and 
 
 60 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 the nightshade. Upon her breast lay 
 the small black crucifix, the light of 
 which was to guide her through the dark 
 halls of Death, and lead her at last to 
 where all souls are gathered. So white 
 and pure she looked within her crystal 
 casket that even Yverdel feared not to 
 leave her there ; and when the grotto 
 had been closed forever, and sealed, he 
 returned to the little oratory and 
 prayed. 
 
 Looking wistfully into the face of the 
 Madonna, wishing she would comfort 
 him again, the tears began to drip down 
 his cheeks as he thought of his great loss 
 and the loneliness that must be his. But 
 while he knelt there, the blind harpist 
 groped his way to him, and hearing his 
 sobs, told him that the swallows were 
 singing of a beautiful soul they had seen 
 journeying eastward to greet the dawn. 
 61 
 
THE LEGEND OF LOVE 
 
 Then the youth remembered that even 
 now she might be watching him from tlie 
 Porch of Paradise, so he lifted his arms 
 to her and smiled; and then, with his 
 hand in that of the old man, left the 
 oratory and sought the ever-blessed 
 sunshine. 
 
 And this is THE LEGEND OF 
 LOVE. 
 
 .#"?^i 
 
 G2 
 
Of The Legend of Love one 
 hundred copies were originally 
 printed in San Francisco in 
 1893 for private distribution. 
 Of this edition eighty-five 
 were immediately destroyed. 
 
 63 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS