ferent parts of the globe; and the grey man had
disappeared with my shadow.

CHAPTER II

Of what use were wings to a man fast bound in chains of iron? They
would but increase the horror of his despair. Like the dragon guarding
his treasure, I remained cut off from all human intercourse, and
starving amidst my very gold, for it gave me no pleasure: I
anathematised it as the source of all my wretchedness.

Sole depository of my fearful secret, I trembled before the meanest of
my attendants, whom, at the same time, I envied; for he possessed a
shadow, and could venture to go out in the daytime; while I shut myself
up in my room day and night, and indulged in all the bitterness of
grief.

One individual, however, was daily pining away before my eyes--my
faithful Bendel, who was the victim of silent self-reproach, tormenting
himself with the idea that he had betrayed the confidence reposed in
him by a good master, in failing to recognise the individual in quest
of whom he had been sent, and with whom he had been led to believe that
my melancholy fate was closely connected. Still, I had nothing to
accuse him with, as I recognised in the occurrence the mysterious
character of the unknown.

In order to leave no means untried, I one day despatched Bendel with a
costly ring to the most celebrated artist in the town, desiring him to
wait upon me. He came; and dismissing the attendants, I secured the
door, placing myself opposite to him, and, after extolling his art,
with a heavy heart came to the point, first enjoining the strictest
secrecy.

"For a person," said I, "who most unfortunately has lost his shadow,
could you paint a false one?"

"Do you speak of the natural shadow?"

"Precisely so."

"But," he asked, "by what awkward negligence can a man have lost his
shadow?"

"How it occurred," I answered, "is of no consequence; but it was in
this manner"--(and here I uttered an unblushing falsehood)--"he was
travelling in Russia last winter, and one bitterly cold day it froze so
intensely, that his shadow remained so fixed to the ground, that it was
found impossible to remove it."

"The false shadow that I might paint," said the artist, "would be
liable to be lost on the slightest movement, particularly in a person
who, from your account, cares so little about his shadow. A person
without a shadow should keep out of the sun, that is the only safe and
rational plan."

He rose a