but the sinews of my body."

The Lad looked at him and said, "I have given you hard words, and
fits of temper, and much injustice."

"Have you?" said William. "I remember only your tenderness and your
tears. So keep the opal in love's name."

The Lad tried to answer, but could not; and he slipped the opal
under his shirt. Then he faltered, "My Great-Aunt--" and still he
could not speak. But he made a third effort, and said, "There is a
cake in the larder," and turned on his heel and went away quickly.
And the King looked after him till he was out of sight, and then
very slowly went to his bath and his fresh linen. But he left the
cake where it was.

And he sat by the door of the forge with his face in his hands until
the length of his shadow warned him that he must go. And he rose and
went for the last time up the hill, but with a sinking heart; and
when he stood on the top and gazed upon the beauty of the earth he
had left below, in his breast was the ache of loss and longing for
one he had loved, and with his eyes he tried to draw that beauty
into himself, but the void in him remained unfulfilled. Yet never
had her beauty been so great.

"Beloved and lovely earth!" he whispered, "why do you appear most
fair and most desirable now that I am about to lose you? Why when I
had you did you not hold me by force, and tell me what you were?
Only now I discover you from mid-heaven--but oh! in what way should
I discover you from heaven itself?" And he looked upward, and lo! a