It stood
above the moving sea of dancers; upon it sat the Autocrat of Life and
Death; and above him waved the canopy of flags torn from the dying
nations. The young man started, for he saw one among them dyed in gore,
and tattered into rags, and from its torn streamers, drop by drop, the
blood was ever falling; but no one saw or heeded it save himself. When
this sight fell upon his reeling gaze, he determined to repel with all
his force the allurements of temptation, and again his eye gleamed blue
and pure as it had done in the early morning.
A movement now began in the crowd. It dispersed, divided, and formed
into long lines upon the right and the left, leaving a wide, open
pathway through the whole length of the long vista of the apartments.
The Lord of the Palace descended from his Throne, and moved through the
living walls as if he were a God, while all prostrated themselves as he
passed along. He turned not aside, but went directly to the spot where
the young man was seated. Nearer and nearer he approached, wondrously
beautiful and strong. The young man rose and looked boldly into his
eyes. The Master of Life and Death did not frown upon him, but said
gently: 'Come, let us take a stroll together; I will show you the
wonders of my Palace!'
The youth stood as if transfixed to the spot, but the Lord of Life and
Death drew closer to him, stooped and pressed a kiss on his brow, and
led him away with easy grace.
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