THE EYES OF ST. LJUBOV
I
“TELL it us! O tell us it!”
Elphénor Pistouillat de la Ratiboisiére, the Master Magi-
cian, hearkened unto his disciples, who sat cross-legged around
his incense-bowl. His lips parted in that unapeable grin of
his, and he stopped his nostrils awhile with his two fore-
fingers. Then he blew on the charcoal and began.
“Yes, I will tell it to you, intellectual infants, I will.
Listen. Two hundred and one years ago—when I was thin
and thirty—I chanced upon a couple, living in South Russia.
Boy and girl they were still; but, as it were, they unwittingly
founded a strange sect of self-mutilated followers, and, being
the only man alive who witnessed the beginnings thereof, I
will undertake to keep you interested for more than sixteen
minutes with their history.”
The room was now darkened, and three large globes of
crystal, set under the rays of a lamp, stood alone, attracting
the eyes. The first globe was limpid and colourless, the
second was of the palest amethyst, the third of a rich yellow.
Worlds were revolving within. Then Elphénor broke the
silence again.
“She was a little girl and he was a little boy . . .’
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