OLD AGE, 1. The Mantle of Immortality, Part 2
In addition to the immortals I have named were the King of the Knooks, who had come from his home in the jungles of India; and the King of the Ryls, who lived among the gay flowers and luscious fruits of Valencia. Sweet Queen Zurline of the Wood-Nymphs completed the circle of immortals. But in the center of the circle sat three others who possessed powers so great that all the Kings and Queens showed them reverence. These were Ak, the Master Woodsman of the World, who rules the forests and the orchards and the groves; and Kern, the Master Husbandman of the World, who rules the grain fields and the meadows and the gardens; and Bo, the Master Mariner of the World, who rules the seas and all the craft that float thereon. And all other immortals are more or less subject to these three. When all had assembled the Master Woodsman of the World stood up to address them, since he himself had summoned them to the council. Very clearly he told them the story of Claus, beginning at the time when as a babe he had been adopted a child of the Forest, and telling of his noble and generous nature and his life-long labors to make children happy. "And now," said Ak, "when he had won the love of all the world, the Spirit of Death is hovering over him. Of all men who have inhabited the earth none other so well deserves immortality, for such a life can not be spared so long as there are children of mankind to miss him and to grieve over his loss. We immortals are the servants of the world, and to serve the world we were permitted in the Beginning to exist. But what one of us is more worthy of immortality than this man Claus, who so sweetly ministers to the little children?" He paused and glanced around the circle, to find every immortal listening to him eagerly and nodding approval. Finally the King of the Wind Demons, who had been whistling softly to himself, cried out: "What is your desire, O Ak?" "To bestow upon Claus the Mantle of Immortality!" said Ak, boldly. That this demand was wholly unexpected was proved by the immortals springing to their feet and looking into each other's face with dismay and then upon Ak with wonder. For it was a grave matter, this parting with the Mantle of Immortality. The Queen of the Water Sprites spoke in her low, clear voice, and the words sounded like raindrops splashing upon a window-pane. "In all the world there is but one Mantle of Immortality," she said. The King of the Sound Fays added: "It has existed since the Beginning, and no mortal has ever dared to claim it." And the Master Mariner of the World arose and stretched his limbs, saying: "Only by the vote of every immortal can it be bestowed upon a mortal." "I know all this," answered Ak, quietly. "But the Mantle exists, and if it was created, as you say, in the Beginning, it was because the Supreme Master knew that some day it would be required. Until now no mortal has deserved it, but who among you dares deny that the good Claus deserves it? Will you not all vote to bestow it upon him?" They were silent, still looking upon one another questioningly. "Of what use is the Mantle of Immortality unless it is worn?" demanded Ak. "What will it profit any one of us to allow it to remain in its lonely shrine for all time to come?" "Enough!" cried the Gnome King, abruptly. "We will vote on the matter, yes or no. For my part, I say yes!" "And I!" said the Fairy Queen, promptly, and Ak rewarded her with a smile. "My people in Burzee tell me they have learned to love him; therefore I vote to give Claus the Mantle," said the King of the Ryls. "He is already a comrade of the Knooks," announced the ancient King of that band. "Let him have immortality!" "Let him have it--let him have it!" sighed the King of the Wind Demons. "Why not?" asked the King of the Sleep Fays. "He never disturbs the slumbers my people allow humanity. Let the good Claus be immortal!" "I do not object," said the King of the Sound Imps. "Nor I," murmured the Queen of the Water Sprites. "If Claus does not receive the Mantle it is clear none other can ever claim it," remarked the King of the Light Elves, "so let us have done with the thing for all time." "The Wood-Nymphs were first to adopt him," said Queen Zurline. "Of course I shall vote to make him immortal." Ak now turned to the Master Husbandman of the World, who held up his right arm and said "Yes!" And the Master Mariner of the World did likewise, after which Ak, with sparkling eyes and smiling face, cried out: "I thank you, fellow immortals! For all have voted 'yes,' and so to our dear Claus shall fall the one Mantle of Immortality that it is in our power to bestow!" "Let us fetch it at once," said the Fay King; "I'm in a hurry." They bowed assent, and instantly the Forest glade was deserted. But in a place midway between the earth and the sky was suspended a gleaming crypt of gold and platinum, aglow with soft lights shed from the facets of countless gems. Within a high dome hung the precious Mantle of Immortality, and each immortal placed a hand on the hem of the splendid Robe and said, as with one voice: "We bestow this Mantle upon Claus, who is called the Patron Saint of Children!" At this the Mantle came away from its lofty crypt, and they carried it to the house in the Laughing Valley. The Spirit of Death was crouching very near to the bedside of Claus, and as the immortals approached she sprang up and motioned them back with an angry gesture. But when her eyes fell upon the Mantle they bore she shrank away with a low moan of disappointment and quitted that house forever. Softly and silently the immortal Band dropped upon Claus the precious Mantle, and it closed about him and sank into the outlines of his body and disappeared from view. It became a part of his being, and neither mortal nor immortal might ever take it from him. Then the Kings and Queens who had wrought this great deed dispersed to their various homes, and all were well contented that they had added another immortal to their Band. And Claus slept on, the red blood of everlasting life coursing swiftly through his veins; and on his brow was a tiny drop of water that had fallen from the ever-melting gown of the Queen of the Water Sprites, and over his lips hovered a tender kiss that had been left by the sweet Nymph Necile. For she had stolen in when the others were gone to gaze with rapture upon the immortal form of her foster son.
