"It was about the size of Herb Paris, my son," replied the hermit. "But instead of being fourfold every way, it numbered the mystic Three. Every part was threefold. The leaves were three, the petals three, the sepals three. The flower was snow-white, but on each of the three parts it was stained with crimson stripes, like white garments dyed in blood." [[9]]
[9.] Trillium erythrocarpum. North America.
Then the boy started up, saying, "If there be such a plant on the earth I will find it for thee."
But the hermit laid his hand on him, and said, "Nay, my son, leave me not, for I have need of thee. And the flower will come yet, and then I shall see."
And all day long the old man murmured to himself, "Then I shall see."
"And didst thou see me, and the garden, in thy dream, my Father?" asked the boy.
"Ay, that I did, my son. And I meant to say to thee that it much pleaseth me that thou art grown so well, and of such a strangely fair countenance. Also the garden is such as I have never before beheld it, which must needs be due to thy care. But wherefore didst thou not tell me of those fair palms that have grown where the thorn hedge was wont to be? I was but just stretching out my hand for some, when I awoke."
"There are no palms there, my Father," said the boy.
"Now, indeed it is thy youth that makes thee so little observant," said the hermit. "However, I pardon thee, if it were only for that good thought which moved thee to plant a yew beyond the rosemary bush; seeing that the yew is the emblem of eternal life, which lies beyond the grave."
But the boy said, "There is no yew there, my Father."