He called her name, but no answer was returned; then on a tablet upon the table he saw words written and brought them to the fire and read them.

"O Golden Archer, go back to thy tower, for the great winds have taken me on a long journey, and I shall never see thee again."

Then he knew that not his faithful winds, but the voice of old memories had called her, and he bowed his head in an imperishable sorrow.

Because his heart was broken he desired to cease from his humanity and return to the old white tower. As once his warm tears had thawed his s.h.i.+ning armor and made him an inhabitant of the world, so now his cold and bitter tears encased him again in hard metal.

Walking wearily and with stiff footsteps he went to the stable, brought out his horse and rode across the plain to the great white church upon which the midnight moon was s.h.i.+ning. He knocked on its west door, and from the vaults came the echoes.

"You cannot return, Golden Archer, for you have broken your vow!"

"But I have broken my heart also," he answered; "therefore, let me in."

"But you will come down again from the tower," cried the echoes.

"Nay, for only the broken-hearted know how to keep their vows," he answered.

So the doors swung open, and up the dim spiral stairs rode the Golden Archer, through bars of moonlight to the region of the great winds where again he mounted the tower. But always there is one dream left to the sorrowful, and his was, that some night the great winds would drive her soul against his breast.

Then he became very still and turned his arrow northward, for the wind was coming from the far circles of the Arctic ice.

Next day the sun rose red and glorious and made fires on the armor of the Golden Archer, and all the people upon the plain rubbed their eyes and cried out:

"There's a new Archer on the Cathedral. Now we shall know from which horizon comes the wind!"