“Oh, very soon, I dare say,” he rejoined.  “The world is a wonderfully small place, after all, as men find when they jostle up against each other unexpectedly in the most unlikely corners of far countries.  You may, if you choose, correspond with me, and that is a privilege I accord to few, I assure you!” He smiled, and then went on in a more serious tone, “You are, of course, welcome at our monastery whenever you wish to come, but, take my advice, do not wilfully step out of the sphere in which you are placed.  Live in society, it needs men of your stamp and intellectual calibre; show it a high and consistent example—­let no eccentricity mar your daily actions—­work at your destiny steadily, cheerfully, serenely, and leave the rest to God, and—­ the angels!”

There was a slight, tender inflection in his voice as he spoke the last words,—­and Alwyn gave him a quick, searching glance.  But his blue, penetrating eyes were calm and steadfast, full of their usual luminous softness and pathos, and there was nothing expressed in them but the gentlest friendliness.

“Well!  I’m glad I may write to you, at any rate,” said Alwyn at last, reluctantly releasing his hand.  “It is possible I may not remain long in London; I want to finish my poem, and it gets on too slowly in the tumult of daily life in town.”

“Then will you go abroad again?” inquired Heliobas.

“Perhaps.  I may.  Bonn, where I was once a student for a time.  It is a peaceful, sleepy little place,—­I shall probably complete my work easily there.  Moreover, it will be like going back to a bit of my youth.  I remember I first began to entertain all my dreams of poesy at Bonn.”

“Inspired by the Seven Mountains and the Drachenfels!” laughed Heliobas.  “No wonder you recalled the lost ‘Sah-luma’ period in the sight of the entrancing Rhine!  Ah, Sir Poet, you have had your fill of fame! and I fear the plaudits of London will never be like those of Al-Kyris!  No monarchs will honor you now, but rather despise! for the kings and queens of this age prefer financiers to Laureates!  Now, wherever you wander, let me hear of your well-being and progress in contentment; when you write, address to our Dariel retreat, for though on my return from Mexico I shall probably visit Lemnos, my letters will always be forwarded.  Adieu!”

“Adieu!” and their eyes met.  A grave sweet smile brightened the Chaldean’s handsome features.

“God remain with you, my friend!” he said, in a low, thrillingly earnest tone.  “Believe me, you are elected to a strangely happy fate!—­far happier than you at present know!”

With these words he turned and was gone,—­lost to sight in the surging throng of passers-by.  Alwyn looked eagerly after him, but saw him no more.  His tall figure had vanished as utterly as any of the phantom shapes in Al-Kyris, only that, far from being spectre-like, he had seemed more actually a living personality than any of the people in the streets who were hurrying to and fro on their various errands of business or pleasure.