"A passion of men's hearts,--the wish that evil may befall others. When the hatred is bitter enough, and the opportunity fair, they kill!" Gnulemah shuddered slightly and looked sad. Then she leaned towards Balder and touched his shoulder persuasively. "Never think of such things, or talk of them! Could you hate anyone, Balder? or kill him if you did?" With that glorious presence so near him,--her voice so close to his ear,--how could he answer her? His heart awoke, and beat and drove the tingling blood tumultuously forth to the remotest veins. She saw the flush, and caught the passionate brilliancy of his eyes. Happy and afraid, she drew back, saying in haste,-- "You have not told me yet about the ring!" That was not wisely said! Balder checked himself with a sudden, strong hand, and held still,--his brows lowered down and his lips settled together,--until his pulses were quiet and his cheeks once more pale. "I will tell you," he said; "but to understand, you must first hear some other things." He hesitated, face to face with an analysis of murder. The position was at once stimulating and appalling. To dissect and reduce to its elements that grisly murder-devil which had once possessed his own soul, and whose writhings beneath the scalpel he would therefore feel as his own--here loomed a prospect large and terrible! Nevertheless, Balder took up the knife. The white petal of an apple-blossom, part from its calyx, came floating earthwards; but a breeze caught it and wafted it aloft. It sank again, and was again arrested and borne skywards. Finally is disappeared over the cliff-edge. "The weight that made it fall is of the earth," said Balder (both he and Gnulemah had been watching the petal's course). "The breeze that buoyed it up was from heaven, and so it is with man. Were there no heavenly support, he would fall at once, but whether or not, he always tends to fall." Gnulemah objected, "It loves the air better than the earth!" "When man begins to fall, he becomes mad, and thinks he is not falling, but that earth is heaven, to which he is rising. But since earth is not like heaven, infinite, he does not wish others to enjoy it, lest his own pleasure be marred." "How can that be?" said the unwilling Gnulemah. "What can make men so happy on earth as other men?" "Each wants all power for himself," rejoined Balder, his voice growing stern as he pursued his theme. "They want to hurl their fellows out of the world, even to annihilation. Every moment this hatred is let grow in the heart's garden, it spreads and strengthens, till it gains dominion and makes men slaves, and madder than before. Each will be above his rival,--his enemy! he will be absolute master over him. And from that resolve is born murder!" "Why do you tell Gnulemah this?" she asked, lifting her head like a majestic serpent. But she could not stop him now. His voice, measured at first, was now driven by emotion.