: this
did the stars for their servant; shall we not also be servants to the
star?"

And they wore black garments like Morven, and went about prophesying of
what the stars foretold them. And Morven was exceeding wroth; for he,
more than other men, knew that the prophets lied. Wherefore he went
forth against them with the ministers of the temple, and he took them,
and burned them by a slow fire; for thus said Morven to the people: "A
true prophet hath honour, but _I_ only am a true prophet; to all false
prophets there shall be surely death."

And the people applauded the piety of the son of Osslah.

And Morven educated the wisest of the children in the mysteries of the
temple, so that they grew up to succeed him worthily.

And he died full of years and honour; and they carved his effigy on a
mighty stone before the temple, and the effigy endured for a thousand
ages, and whoso looked on it trembled; for the face was calm with the
calmness of unspeakable awe!

And Morven was the first mortal of the North that made Religion the
stepping-stone to Power. Of a surety Morven was a great man!

It was the last night of the old year, and the stars sat, each upon his
ruby throne, and watched with sleepless eyes upon the world. The
night was dark and troubled, the dread winds were abroad, and fast and
frequent hurried the clouds beneath the thrones of the kings of night.
And ever and anon fiery meteors flashed along the depths of heaven,
and were again swallowed up in the grave of darkness. But far below his
brethren, and with a lurid haze around his orb, sat the discontented
star that had watched over the hunters of the North.

And on the lowest abyss of space there was spread a thick and mighty
gloom, from which, as from a caldron, rose columns of wreathing smoke;
and still, when the great winds rested for an instant on their paths,
voices of woe and laughter, mingled with shrieks, were heard booming
from the abyss to the upper air.

And now, in the middest night, a vast figure rose slowly from the abyss,
and its wings threw blackness over the world. High upward to the throne
of the discontented star sailed the fearful shape, and the star trembled
on his throne when the form stood before him face to face.

And the shape said, "Hail, brother! all hail!"

"I know thee not," answered the star; "thou art not the archangel that
visitest the kings of night."

And the shape laughed loud. "I am the fallen star of the morn