He raised a thin hand and held it upright. It was so transparent that the light of a candle behind turned it to blood red.
"Let my presumptuous desires be forever silent," he chanted. "'East is east and west is west,' and I erred gravely. But, worship is worship, and worship is sacrifice."
I could hardly speak, my voice was hoarse, his words had given me such a picture of Juanita up there in the clouds.
"I am not a Prince, I only have a very ordinary title. If you know England, you understand what a baronet is."
"I know England. Prince, your Princess is waiting for you and sighing out her heart that you have not come to her."
I leapt to my feet and swore a great oath that made the attic room ring.
"Prince, the Lily of all the lilies, the Rose of all the roses, alone, distraught, another Ophelia--no, say rather Juliet with her nurse--has honored me with the story of her love. She never told me whom she longed for, but I knew that it was some one down in the world."
"It is my humble adoration for her which has sharpened all my wits," he answered. "It seemed an accident--though the gods designed it without doubt--that made you save my life to-night, but now I know you are the lover of the Lily. And I am the servant--the happy messenger--of you both."
"My friend, tell me, tell me all about her. Is she happy?--no, I know she cannot be that--but--"
He lifted himself up in the bed, and there was something priest-like in his attitude as he folded his thin hands upon his breast and spoke.
"Two thousand feet above London there is a Palace of all delights. Immeasurable wealth, the genius of great artists have been combined to make a City of Enchantment. And in every garden with its plashing fountains, in its halls of pictures and delights, upon its aerial towers, down its gilded galleries, lurking at the banquet, mingling with the music, great shapes of terror squeak and gibber like the ghosts Shakespeare speaks of in ancient Rome."
"There is a noble intellect overdone and dissolved in terror. In all other respects sane as you or I, my savior and benefactor, Gideon Morse is a maniac whose one sole idea is to preserve himself and his daughter from some horror, some vengeance which surely cannot threaten him."