"They had meaning for me, father. Also for her. They were to both of us a bright and mystical ideal, in the fumes of which we steeped our souls,--our very selves, till our natures seemed to know no hurt, seemed incapable of evil--" "Alas--the greater the pity!" "I was sure of myself. She was sure of me. I loved her. Her presence was to me as some intoxication of the soul--some rare perfume that captivates the senses, raising the spirit to heights too rarefied for breath--" "And you fell?" The words came from the monk's lips, slowly, inexorably, as the knell of fate. "I--all, but fell!" stammered Tristan. "One day in a chamber far removed from the inhabited part of the castle we sat and read. And suddenly she laid her face close to mine and with eyes in whose mystic depths lurked something more than I had ever seen in them before asked why, through Fate's high necessity, two should forever wander side by side, longing for each other--their longing unsatisfied--when the hour was theirs--" Again Tristan paused. The monk regarded him in silence. "You fell?" the question came again. "In that moment, father, I was no more myself, no more the one whose art is sacred and alone upon the mountain summit of his soul. Its freedom and aspirations were no more. I was undone, a tumbled, wingless thing. My pride had fled. Long, long I looked into her eyes, and when she put her wonderful white arms about me, I, in a dizzy moment of desire, dropped my face to hers. Then was love all uttered. Straightway I arose. I clasped her in my arms. I kissed--I kissed her--" The monk regarded him sternly, yet not unkindly. "It was a sin. Yet--there is more?" Tristan's hands were clasped. "One evening in the rose garden--at dusk--the evening on which she sent me from her--bade me go to Rome to obtain forgiveness for a sin of which I could not repent." The monk nodded. "Go on! Go on!" "The world had fallen away from us. We stood in a grove, our arms about each other. Suddenly I saw a face. I withdrew my arm, overwhelmed by all the shame of guilt. The face vanished and, passion overmastering once more, we touched our lips anew. It was the last time we were to see each other. I left behind the wondrous silken hair my hands had touched in our last mad caress. I left behind that tender face and form. She made no attempt to follow, or to call me back. I hastened to my chamber, and there I fought anew with all that evil impulse of my youth, to face the shame, as long as joy endured. If I had sinned in mind against my high ideal might I not some day recover it and be purified?" "What of God and Holy Church?" queried the monk. "To them I gave no heed, but to my honor. This upheld me." The monk gave a nod. "I left Avalon. It seemed as if without her my life were ebbing away. I joined a pilgrim party, and now my pilgrimage is ended. What must I do to still this inward craving that will not leave my soul at peace?" He ended in a sob.