The Facts in the Curious Case of H. Hyrtl, Esq

The next morning Hugh was hard at work gain. The painting before him was a wonder to behold. It represented a hall, similar to the interior of a temple -- one in which fluted columns rose and met the dome; about it ran a gallery, and there, Heliogabalus, a painted boy of fifteen, lounged and laughed; near him were the magi come from afar to witness the nuptials of the Sun and Moon; opposite were musicians, and a little beyond a group of slaves were emptying huge baskets of lilies on the assembled guests beneath. Some of the latter, in flowers up to the waist, were trying to escape, but the door was barred. Others, aided by yellow couches, were trying to scale the wall and reach the gallery above, and on these a steady rain of red and white buds descended. In a corner, an avalanche of roses and violets had fallen, and from it men were struggling, their arms crooked, their eyes dilated. From the dome a glare of sunlight smote the purple draperies, danced on the sea of flowers and put a rainbow in the air. It was very gorgeous, a riot of splendid color, and to Hugh it meant nothing less than an encounter with that gracious lady whose name is Fame.

He was at work then on the sigma of gold on which the little emperor lounged, and that gold he was endeavoring to marry harmoniously with the brass of the trumpets and the crocus of the harps. The night before, on his return after a long tramp through Central Park, he had determined not to look again at the window across the court; for to look was to fall in love, and to fall in love meant "Fame, farewell! " and also "Starvation, welcome! " In spite of which, however, no sooner was his light extinguished than he took a look. Save a single star that glowed and glimmered, there was not a thing to be seen. Thereupon, with all the strength of virtuous resolutions, he had wrapped himself in slumber and dreams of her. And now on this particular morning, he had not tried more than ten or a dozen times to see if she were there.