"Disbelieve as you will in electric spiritual force," I said. "Your message to her then through me was--TELL HER I HAVE SEEN HER LOVER."
At these words a sombre shadow flitted over the Prince's face.
"I tell you," he said slowly, "that I believe I was on that occasion the victim of an hallucination. But I will explain to you what I saw. A superb figure, like, and yet unlike, a man, but of a much larger and grander form, appeared to me, as I thought, and spoke. 'Zara is mine,' it said--'mine by choice; mine by freewill; mine till death; mine after death; mine through eternity. With her thou hast naught in common; thy way lies elsewhere. Follow the path allotted to thee, and presume no more upon an angel's patience.' Then this Strange majestic-looking creature, whose face, as I remember it, was extraordinarily beautiful, and whose eyes were like self-luminous stars, vanished. But, after all, what of it? The whole thing was a dream."
"I am not so sure of that," I said quietly, "But, Prince Ivan, now that you are calmer and more capable of resignation, will you tell me why you loved Zara?"
"Why!" he broke out impetuously. "Why, because it was impossible to help loving her."
"That is no answer," I replied. "Think! You can reason well if you like--I have heard you hold your own in an argument. What made you love Zara?"
He looked at me in a sort of impatient surprise, but seeing I was very much in earnest, he pondered a minute or so before replying.
"She was the loveliest woman I have ever seen!" he said at last, and in his voice there was a sound of yearning and regret.
"Is THAT all?" I queried, with a gesture of contempt. "Because her body was beautiful--because she had sweet kissing lips and a soft skin; because her hand was like a white flower, and her dark hair clustering over her brow reminded one of a misty evening cloud hiding moonlight; because the glance of her glorious eyes made the blood leap through your veins and sting you with passionate desire-- are these the reasons of your so-called love? Oh, give it some other and lower name! For the worms shall feed on the fair flesh that won your admiration--their wet and slimy bodies shall trail across the round white arms and tender bosom--unsightly things shall crawl among the tresses of the glossy hair; and nothing, nothing shall remain of what you loved, but dust. Prince Ivan, you shudder; but I too loved Zara--I loved HER, not the perishable casket in which, like a jewel, she was for a time enshrined. I love her still--and for the being I love there is no such thing as death."