choose to take it. But the earthly old legend will have it that this mad,
high-minded, heroic, murderous lord did insist upon it with himself that
he must murder this poor, loving, and beloved child.

"I do not wish to delay upon this horrible matter, and to tell you how he
argued it with himself; and how, the more and more he argued it, the more
reasonable it seemed, the more absolutely necessary, the more a duty that
the terrible sacrifice should be made. Here was this great good to be done
to mankind, and all that stood in the way of it was one little delicate
life, so frail that it was likely enough to be blown out, any day, by the
mere rude blast that the rush of life creates, as it streams along, or by
any slightest accident; so good and pure, too, that she was quite unfit
for this world, and not capable of any happiness in it; and all that was
asked of her was to allow herself to be transported to a place where she
would be happy, and would find companions fit for her,--which he, her only
present companion, certainly was not. In fine, he resolved to shed the
sweet, fragrant blood of this little violet that loved him so.

"Well; let us hurry over this part of the story as fast as we can. He did
slay this pure young girl; he took her into the wood near the house, an
old wood that is standing yet, with some of its magnificent oaks; and then
he plunged a dagger into her heart, after they had had a very tender and
loving talk together, in which he had tried to open the matter tenderly to
her, and make her understand that, though he was to slay her, it was
really for the very reason that he loved her better than anything else in
the world, and that he would far rather die himself, if that would answer
the purpose at all. Indeed, he is said to have offered her the alternative
of slaying him, and taking upon herself the burden of indefinite life, and
the studies and pursuits by which he meant to benefit mankind. But she, it
is said,--this noble, pure, loving child,--she looked up into his face and