fear lest you see me too closely; you would tremble if you knew me
better. Listen: I have no taste for earthly fruits. Your joys, I know

them all too well, and, like the sated emperors of pagan Rome, I have
reached disgust of all things; I have received the gift of vision.

Leave me! abandon me!" he murmured, sorrowfully.
Seraphitus turned and seated himself on a projecting rock, dropping

his head upon his breast.
"Why do you drive me to despair?" said Minna.

"Go, go!" cried Seraphitus, "I have nothing that you want of me. Your
love is too earthly for my love. Why do you not love Wilfrid? Wilfrid

is a man, tested by passions; he would clasp you in his vigorous arms
and make you feel a hand both broad and strong. His hair is black, his

eyes are full of human thoughts, his heart pours lava in every word he
utters; he could kill you with caresses. Let him be your beloved, your

husband! Yes, thine be Wilfrid!"
Minna wept aloud.

"Dare you say that you do not love him?" he went on, in a voice which
pierced her like a dagger.

"Have mercy, have mercy, my Seraphitus!"
"Love him, poor child of Earth to which thy destiny has indissolubly

bound thee," said the strange being, beckoning Minna by a gesture, and
forcing her to the edge of the saeter, whence he pointeddownward to a

scene that might well inspire a young girl full of enthusiasm with the
fancy that she stood above this earth.

"I longed for a companion to the kingdom of Light; I wished to show
you that morsel of mud, I find you bound to it. Farewell. Remain on

earth; enjoy through the senses; obey your nature; turn pale with
pallid men; blush with women; sport with children; pray with the

guilty; raise your eyes to heaven when sorrows overtake you; tremble,
hope, throb in all your pulses; you will have a companion; you can

laugh and weep, and give and receive. I,--I am an exile, far from
heaven; a monster, far from earth. I live of myself and by myself. I

feel by the spirit; I breathe through my brow; I see by thought; I die
of impatience and of longing. No one here below can fulfil my desires

or calm my griefs. I have forgotten how to weep. I am alone. I resign
myself, and I wait."

Seraphitus looked at the flowery mound on which he had seated Minna;
then he turned and faced the frowning heights, whose pinnacles were

wrapped in clouds; to them he cast, unspoken, the remainder of his
thoughts.

"Minna, do you hear those delightful strains?" he said after a pause,
with the voice of a dove, for the eagle's cry was hushed; "it is like

the music of those Eolian harps your poets hang in forests and on the
mountains. Do you see the shadowy figures passing among the clouds,

the winged feet of those who are making ready the gifts of heaven?
They bring refreshment to the soul; the skies are about to open and

shed the flowers of spring upon the earth. See, a gleam is darting
from the pole. Let us fly, let us fly! It is time we go!"

In a moment their skees were refastened, and the pair descended the
Falberg by the steep slopes which join the mountain to the valleys of

the Sieg. Miraculous perception guided their course, or, to speak more
properly, their flight. When fissures covered with snow intercepted

them, Seraphitus caught Minna in his arms and darted with rapid
motion, lightly as a bird, over the crumbling causeways of the abyss.

Sometimes, while propelling his companion, he deviated to the right or
left to avoid a precipice, a tree, a projecting rock, which he seemed

to see beneath the snow, as an old sailor, familiar with the ocean,
discerns the hidden reefs by the color, the trend, or the eddying of

the water. When they reached the paths of the Siegdahlen, where they
could fearlessly follow a straight line to regain the ice of the

fiord, Seraphitus stopped Minna.
"You have nothing to say to me?" he asked.

"I thought you would rather think alone," she answered respectfully.
"Let us hasten, Minette; it is almost night," he said.

Minna quivered as she heard the voice, now so changed, of her guide,--
a pure voice, like that of a young girl, which dissolved the fantastic

dream through which she had been passing. Seraphitus seemed to be
laying aside his male force and the too keen intellect that flames

from his eyes. Presently the charming pair glided across the fiord and
reached the snow-field which divides the shore from the first range of

houses; then, hurrying forward as daylight faded, they sprang up the
hill toward the parsonage, as though they were mounting the steps of a

great staircase.
"My father must be anxious," said Minna.

"No," answered Seraphitus.
As he spoke the couple reached the porch of the humbledwelling where

Monsieur Becker, the pastor of Jarvis, sat reading while awaiting his
daughter for the evening meal.

"Dear Monsieur Becker," said Seraphitus, "I have brought Minna back to
you safe and sound."

"Thank you, mademoiselle," said the old man, laying his spectacles on
his book; "you must be very tired."

"Oh, no," said Minna, and as she spoke she felt the soft breath of her
companion on her brow.

"Dear heart, will you come day after to-morrow evening and take tea
with me?"

"Gladly, dear."
"Monsieur Becker, you will bring her, will you not?"

"Yes, mademoiselle."
Seraphitus inclined his head with a pretty gesture, and bowed to the

old pastor as he left the house. A few moments later he reached the
great courtyard of the Swedish villa. An old servant, over eighty

years of age, appeared in the portico bearing a lantern. Seraphitus
slipped off his snow-shoes with the gracefuldexterity of a woman,

then darting into the salon he fell exhausted and motionless on a wide
divan covered with furs.

"What will you take?" asked the old man, lighting the immensely tall
wax-candles that are used in Norway.

"Nothing, David, I am too weary."
Seraphitus unfastened his pelisse lined with sable, threw it over him,

and fell asleep. The old servant stood for several minutes gazing with
loving eyes at the singular being before him, whose sex it would have

been difficult for any one at that moment to determine. Wrapped as he
was in a formless garment, which resembled equally a woman's robe and

a man's mantle, it was impossible not to fancy that the slender feet
which hung at the side of the couch were those of a woman, and equally

impossible not to note how the forehead and the outlines of the head
gave evidence of power brought to its highest pitch.

"She suffers, and she will not tell me," thought the old man. "She is
dying, like a flower wilted by the burning sun."

And the old man wept.
CHAPTER II

SERAPHITA
Later in the evening David re-entered the salon.

"I know who it is you have come to announce," said Seraphita in a
sleepy voice. "Wilfrid may enter."

Hearing these words a man suddenly presented himself, crossed the room
and sat down beside her.

"My dear Seraphita, are you ill?" he said. "You look paler than
usual."

She turned slowly towards him, tossing back her hair like a pretty
woman whose aching head leaves her no strength even for complaint.

"I was foolish enough to cross the fiord with Minna," she said. "We
ascended the Falberg."

"Do you mean to kill yourself?" he said with a lover's terror.
"No, my good Wilfrid; I took the greatest care of your Minna."

Wilfrid struck his hand violently on a table, rose hastily, and made
several steps towards the door with an exclamation full of pain; then

he returned and seemed about to remonstrate.
"Why this disturbance if you think me ill?" she said.

"Forgive me, have mercy!" he cried, kneeling beside her. "Speak to me
harshly if you will; exact all that the cruel fancies of a woman lead

you to imagine I least can bear; but oh, my beloved, do not doubt my