a dash of the woman in him, besides. He had the strength, but also the charm that Emotione recognized as being a part of her own nature. "Ah" sighed Emotione, "here is a man who can understand me." The fascinating stranger smiled sweetly, and looking her in the eyes, masterfully asked to be admitted. "No, no," replied Emotione, "I cannot let you in, for Volos told me not to." "Ah, fair lady," said the Stranger softly. "Volos means all right, but he is rather old-fogyish, and behind the times. He does not 'understand,' as do you and I. Pray, let me in." And, like Mother Eve, Emotione took the bait.
Well, to make a long story short, when Volos came home he found that Emotione had subscribed to a set of "Villeveaux Modern Art," a beautiful work published by the De Luxe Bros. of Fifth Avenue, to be issued in 824 weekly parts, at the nominal price of $5 a part—739 parts of which were already out, and would be delivered shortly. She had also given a number of side orders for manifold wares, which had dazzled her untrained and unguarded fancy. Volos cried aloud to the gods of his land—but it was too late, the contracts had been signed.
But this was but the beginning. Volos did not understand just what was the matter, and contented himself with scolding Emotione, whereat she wept bitterly. But the poison went on with its deadly work. And when Volos again was absent from home, the habit reasserted itself, and when the fascinating stranger again called at the castle, he was admitted. And when Volos returned, he found the castle furnished from dungeon to watch-tower with costly rugs, and furniture, and various other articles, bought from "Morganstern's Popular Installment House," at $1,000 down and $100 per week. He also found that the castle had been lightning-rodded from ground to turret, on each wing, tower, and annex; and that sundry promissory notes, containing a law-proof, judgment-confessed clause, had been given in exchange therefor. And then Volos swore by the Beard of Mars, the war-god, that he would have no more of this—he would remain at home thereafter. And he did.
But the subtle stranger was onto the game, in all of its details. And this is how he played it on Volos, even though the latter remained at home.
A few days after Volos had determined to remain at home, there came a band of mountebanks, singing, dancing, and performing juggling tricks. Volos sat on the great stone beside the open castle gate, and his attention was attracted by the sounds and sights. Faster the dancers whirled—louder beat the drums—sweeter grew the singing—more bewildering grew the feats of jugglery—until poor Volos forgot all about the open castle gate, so rapt was he at the strange sights, sounds, dances, and feats of jugglery. Then one of the mountebank gang (who was really the attractive stranger disguised in motley array) slipped, unseen, past Volos, and in a moment was engaged in eager conversation with the impressionable Emotione.
Volos watched the crowd until it moved away, and then entering the castle, and closing the gate behind him, was confronted by Emotione, in tears, for she dreaded the coming storm. "Alack a-day, woe is me," she cried, "I am again in trouble, O, Volos, my liege lord! I have just ordered from the fascinating stranger, who slipped past you at the gate, a baby-grand, self-playing, automatic, liquid-air-valved, radium carburetter, piano-playing, Organette, upon which I may play for you all classes of music, ranging from Vogner's Gotterdammerung to the popular "Merry Widow Waltz" with feeling, depth of expression, and soulful understanding, according to the words of the fascinating stranger who took my order."
"Gadzooks!" ejaculated Volos, "Fain would I cry aloud the name of that production of Vogner's just mentioned by thee. And by my halidom, e'en shalt thou soon be performing the waltz just mentioned by thy false red lips! Zounds! Of a truth I have been stung again by that fascinating stranger. I must gaze no more upon these fleeting scenes of merriment and amazement, lest I be again decorated with the asses' ears. Aha! Volos is himself again, and the next time the fascinating stranger appears upon the scene, he shall be smitten hip and thigh with my trusty battle-axe, and my snickersee shall pierce his foul carcass!"
But, alas! even once more was poor Volos deceived and trifled with—once more poor Emotione fascinated by the stranger. And it came about in this way.
On the day of his last undoing, Volos sat on the open step, in front of the narrowly opened castle door. "No man shall pass me now," cried he. But fate willed otherwise. For as he sat there, there approached many people who took seat upon the steps before the gate, and engaged Volos in long heated, and wearisome discourses regarding the outlook for the crops; the presidential campaign; the Japanese question; race-suicide; the new theology; how old was Ann; the problem of the final outcome of the collision between the irresistible force and the immovable body; the canals on Mars; what Roosevelt will do with his big stick when his term expires; and many other weighty, interesting, and fascinating topics of general interest. Most agreeable were these visitors, and most considerate of Volos' feelings were they. And although they seemed to differ from him at the beginning of each argument, still they courteously allowed him to convince them inch by inch, until they finally acknowledged that he was invincible in argument, and invulnerable in logic. "'Tis passing strange," quoth Volos, "but nevertheless 'tis true—that I always find myself on the right side of every question. And the wonder grows when they all admit it in the end. Verily, am I developing into a wise guy!"
And, pondering thus, he fell sweetly asleep from the rigor of the disputes; the flattering attentions shown him; the joy of the victory; and the exceeding amount of attention and interest he had expended, for human nature has its limitations, even in the case of one so strong as Volos. And while he slumbered, the fascinating stranger (who was really the leader of the argumentative visiting committee), crept into the house and unloaded upon Emotione a choice collection of gilt-edged mining stock (pure gilt, all the way through in fact); a bunch of flying-machine bonds, and a 5,000 monkey-power, vestibuled drawing-room, observation-car Automobile called the "Yellow Peril." And when Volos discovered what had happened he wept aloud, crying bitterly, "Odds-bones; s'death—of a cert am I the Baron E. Z. Mark." And thereupon he sent for the wise man who dwelt in the next barony.
The wise man came, and after hearing the story said: "My children, yours is a sad case, but matters may be adjusted without a visit to Sioux Falls, and without the raising of the question of alimony. The trouble is as follows: "Volos, without Emotione, has no desire or incentive to do things. He has no wants to satisfy, and therefore does nothing. He needs Emotione to supply the desire. And without her he has no feeling—he is nothing but a hard-shell clam. Therefore he needs her to supply the feeling, for verily, and of a truth, feeling is the spice of life. And without her he has no imagination, and cannot see beyond the end of his nose—and what is life without imagination? Gadzooks, one might as well be a mummy!
"And on the other hand, Emotione without Volos, is a consuming fire of desire; an unrestrained imagination; an intuitive faculty degenerated into the basest superstition, most deplorable credulity, and the idlest fancy. Volos has no desire, emotion, or imagination of his own—and Emotione has no will of her own. "Verily, cannot it be seen by all that this couple needs one another the worst way? Each, alone, is but an incomplete half. United they stand—divided they fall. In union alone is there strength for them.
"And more than this, each, without the other, falls a prey to the wiles of some fascinating stranger. We have seen how Emotione was fascinated and controlled by the stranger who gained access to the castle. But I have also seen (by my magic art) that when Volos was away from home on important business, and not having Emotione along to keep him straight, he fell a victim to the wiles of the Desire and Imagination of a fair stranger across the river, and did her bidding, and used his will to perform her tasks, instead of those desired by his own Emotione. Verily, art these people quits with one another and should now begin over again. True it is that harmony will be theirs only when they are together.
"And this is the secret of the undoing of Emotione. Without the will of Volos to protect her, direct her, and advise her, Emotione allowed her desire imagination, and emotion to run wild and unrestrained. And so she became so impressionable as to allow herself to be mastered by the will of the stranger, who took advantage of the same and gathered to himself many choice orders for things. And even when Volos sat by the door watching the players, dancers, and jugglers, his attention was so centered on what he saw, that the fascinating stranger slipped through the gate—it was even as if Volos had been absent from home. And, again, when Volos allowed himself to become engaged in weighty discourse with the visiting committee,