d it seemed to him that each face was seeking for a thing
which had no name, and each tongue was calling for what might not be
found. And after a while the youth knew that he too was seeking what he
could not find, and he wondered if it might be that same thing for which
those stranger faces hungered. In the end, he came to a fair house, and
dwelt there, among those ones who sat in luxury and ease and those
others who toiled for them. And in this house was a certain place, of
which was said: 'This spot is holy ground. Here none may enter rashly.'
But the youth was rash, and entered."

His voice faltered. On the seat beside him the Lady Varia leaned
forward.

"And then?--" she said softly.

"And there he found what he had been seeking," said Nicanor, very low.
"What every soul upon this earth has a right to search for, but not
every soul has a right to take. The name of this thing, O lady of mine,
was Happiness; and some there be who call it also Love, and others there
be who know that it is Pain. For in the garden dwelt one fair and pure
and holy,--a daughter of the great ones of the earth. And because she
was fair he loved her; and because she was great he might not woo her;
and because she was pure he would not stain her. For she had taught him
to love as a woman may teach a man."

"He loved her?" Lady Varia said. Her voice was low and dreaming under
the spell of his.

"Ay, lady of mine, he loved her!" Nicanor said; and in place of the
vibrant tenderness of his voice was a swift fierce triumph. "He loved
her, and nothing could do away with that." Once more his tones were
hushed.

"On earth, between man and woman, are two kinds of love, my lady,--one
which a man may teach a woman, which is quick desire and the bitter
sweetness of passion, the meaning of a kiss, the thrill of a caress: and
this, when all is said and done, is of earth, and of the flesh; and one
which a woman may teach a man: and this is reverence, and tenderness,
and holiness, and of the spirit. And she taught the youth this kind of
love, my lady; taught him to revere and honor what in other women he had
ever held lightly; taught him that because she was weak she was so
strong that nothing he might do could prevail against her. And so--he
went away."

"And she?" said the dreaming voice. "Did she love him?"

There fell a pause. In the bushes, close at hand, one strained his ears
to listen, a naked knife gleaming in his hand.

"Ay," Nicanor ans