Whatever was to come he would have met nobly. He was of those
infrequent folk of some upper air who exhibit a certain purity even
in error, or in worse. He stood with his exquisite pale face
uplifted, his white hair in a glory about it, his white gown
embroidered by a thousand needles falling in virginal lines against
the warm, pure colour of that room with its wraiths of hue and
light. And he opened the heart of the green jewel that burned upon
his breast.
"Not for me the wine of youth," he said slowly, "but the poison of
age. The poison which, without me to unlock the secret, all mankind
must drink alone. May you drink it late, my friends!" he cried. "I,
who hold in my soul the secret of the passing of time and youth,
drink now to those among you and among all men who have won and kept
the one thing dearer than these."
He touched the green gem to his lips, and let it fall upon the
embroidered laces on his breast. Then quietly and in another voice
he began to speak.
With the first words there came to St.
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