"Remember the words of a very old man, who has known all of pain and joy, who also has lived through the hell of remorse though it came too late ... too late.... Mayest thou never learn how sad is the word: Too late! Go thy way, my son. Search for the treasure thou dreamest of, and when it is thine hold it fast. It may come to thee in quite unexpected form--at first even thou mayest not realize that thou art so near; it may not come in splendid raiment with a crown on its head, but keep thy heart open as well as thy eyes; turn not away from the humblest call, never leave undone a deed of love. "I, in my solitude, well know what it is to bitterly regret. All the wisdom I have acquired is but ashes to me because never did I understand how to use my riches,--I cherished what was of brass, and what was pure gold, in my vanity, I trampled underfoot. Thou hast within thee something that makes me believe thou art of those who win! Now I have said enough, and thou must continue thy road; but that thou shouldst not forget the grey hermit of the hills, I have for thee a gift, which, in the days of my youth, was my most trusted friend. In thy hands it will have greater power than ever it had in mine." So saying the old man rose, went to the bed, and drew something out of the dark. When he came back he held within his hand a shining sword. "This sword have I loved in the pride of my youth, and even now, in my bitter old age, it was ever at my side. Whilst I worked at the cold, hard marble, it lay on the table near my hand; it alone felt my hot tears of gratitude on the day I had completed my work. "A legend is attached to it: it is said that if carried by hands that are clean of all sin it has unknown powers that reveal themselves in time of need. It may be true ..." the old man bowed his head.... "But my hands ... were never clean ... so no miracle shone on my road. "To me it was simply a good strong sword which I used in my own defence. I used it, too, against my country's foes, and many an evening has it dripped with blood. Gird it round thy waist and go forth with my blessing. I know not if the blessing of a man such as I hath worth in the eyes of God; nevertheless it comes from the deepest depths of my weary soul, and may it follow thee wherever thou goest and help thee to win." Eric bent his knee, and the hermit laid both his hands on his golden locks, lingering tenderly over them as if loath to take his fingers away. "One more gift have I for thee, my son, for I know the peril and loneliness of thy road. Here inside this box"--and he drew a small casket from his breast--"thou shalt find some tablets I once learnt to make, and which possess marvellous power to keep the traveller alive when he can find no food on his way; one of these alone is as much as a feast at the table of a king. Neither is this their only magic; for he who tastes of them to him is given command over all languages spoken under the sun."