"But I must go to the bridge," he continued, finishing the sentence I had interrupted, "and I do not see how there can be evil in it."
"No, Max, it Is not wrong in itself," I said reprovingly; "but Castleman, evidently for good reasons, asked you to stay away from his house, and counselled us to remain close at the inn. It has also this evil in it for you, aside from the danger: it will make your duty harder to perform. When a man longs for what he may not have, he should not think upon it, much less act on it. Our desires, like covetousness and jealousy, feed upon themselves. We may, if we but knew it, augment or abate them at will."
"I shall always think on--on my love for Yolanda," he replied. "I would not abate it one jot; I would augment it in my heart. But, Karl--you see, Karl, it is not a question of my own strength to resist. I need no strength. There is no more reason for you to warn me against this danger than to admonish a child not to long for a star, fearing he might get it. The longing may be indulged with impunity; the star and the danger are out of reach."
I had nothing to say; Max was stronger and nobler than ever I had believed.
Max continued to go to the bridge, and I made no effort to prevent him. Meddling mars more frequently than it mends, and when the Fates are leading, a man is a fool to try to direct their course. Whatever was to be would be. Fate held Max by the hand and was leading him. I almost feared to move or to speak in his affairs, lest I should make a mistake and offend these capricious Fates. The right or the wrong of his visits to the moat depended entirely upon the answer to my riddle, "Who is Yolanda?" and I dared not put it to the touch.
On one occasion he returned from the bridge, and without lighting the lamp, sat on the arm of my chair. The moonlight streaming through the window illumined his head as with a halo. He tossed the damp curls from his face, and his eyes were aglow with joy. There was no need to tell me what had happened, but he told me.
"Ah, Karl, I've seen the star," he cried triumphantly. He was but a boy-man, you must remember.
"I was sure you would see her," I answered. "How did you bring the meeting about?"
"I did not bring it about," he answered, laughing softly. "The star came to the child."
"All things come to him that waits at the bridge," I replied sarcastically. He paid no heed to the sarcasm, but continued:--