Produced by Robert Cicconetti and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive/American Libraries.)
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Italics have been transcribed using _underscores_, small capitals as ALLCAPITALS. Inconsistencies in hyphenation and spelling have not beencorrected. Punctuation has been silently corrected. A list of othercorrections can be found at the end of the document.
THE MYSTERY OF CHOICE
BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS
AUTHOR OF THE KING IN YELLOW, THE RED REPUBLIC, A KING AND A FEW DUKES,THE MAKER OF MOONS, ETC.
NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1897
COPYRIGHT, 1897,BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS.
_DEDICATION._
_There is a maid, demure as she is wise, With all of April in her winsome eyes, And to my tales she listens pensively, With slender fingers clasped about her knee, Watching the sparrows on the balcony._
_Shy eyes that, lifted up to me, Free all my heart of vanity; Clear eyes, that speak all silently, Sweet as the silence of a nunnery-- Read, for I write my rede for you alone, Here where the city's mighty monotone Deepens the silence to a symphony-- Silence of Saints, and Seers, and Sorcery._
_Clear eyes that, lifted up to me, Free all my soul from vanity; Gray eyes, that speak all wistfully-- Nothing but these I know, alas!_
_R. W. C._
_April, 1896._
INTRODUCTION.
_I._
_Where two fair paths, deep flowered And leaf-embowered, Creep East and West across a World concealed, Which shall he take who journeys far afield?_
_II._
_Canst thou then say, "I go," Or "I forego"? What turns thee East or West, as thistles blow? Is fair more fair than fair--and dost thou know?_
_III._
_Turn to the West, unblessed And uncaressed; Turn to the East, and, seated at the Feast Thou shalt find Life, or Death from Life released._
_IV._
_And thou who lovest best A maid dark-tressed, And passest others by with careless eye, Canst thou tell why thou choosest? Tell, then; why?_
_V._
_So when thy kiss is given Or half-forgiven, Why should she tremble, with her face flame-hot, Or laugh and whisper, "Love, I tremble not"?_
_VI._
_Or when thy hand may catch A half-drawn latch, What draws thee from the door, to turn and pass Through streets unknown, dim, still, and choked with grass?_
_VII._
_What! Canst thou not foresee The Mystery? Heed! For a Voice commands thy every deed! And it hath sounded. And thou needs must heed!_
_R. W. C._
_1896._
CONTENTS.
PAGE
POMPE FUNEBRE 39
THE MESSENGER 47
THE WHITE SHADOW 109
PASSEUR 175
THE KEY TO GRIEF 185
A MATTER OF INTEREST 213
ENVOI 283
THE PURPLE EMPEROR.