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Yet he was not altogether free from a certain eager and decidedly painful suspense with regard to the "Nourhalma" problem, and he was conscious of what he in his own opinion considered an absurd and unnecessary degree of excitement, when the door of the apartment presently opened to admit Zabastes, who entered, carrying several sheets of papyrus and other material for writing.
Speaking personally, I have never read anything that gave me quite so much artistic pleasure as this poem of yours except 'Hyperion, only 'Hyperion' is distinctly classical, while 'Nourhalma' takes us back into some hitherto unexplored world of antique paganism, which, though essentially pagan, is wonderfully full of pure and lofty sentiment. When did the idea first strike you?"
A Poet! who wants me in this age of Sale and Barter? ... Is not a producer of poems always considered more or less of a fool nowadays, no matter how much his works may be in fashion for the moment? I am sure, in spite of the success of 'Nourhalma, that the era of poetry has passed; and, moreover, it certainly seems to have given place to the very baldest and most unbeauteous forms of prose!
From this portrait his glance wandered to the table, where, amid a picturesque litter of books and papers, lay a square, simply bound volume, with an ivory leaf-cutter thrust in it to mark the place where the reader left off, and its title plainly lettered in gold at the back "NOURHALMA."
I merely advertised it with a notable simplicity, thus: 'Nourhalma. A Love-Legend of the Past. A Poem. By Theos Alwyn. That was all. Well, when it came out, copies of it were sent, according to custom, round to all the leading newspaper offices, and for about three weeks after its publication I saw not a word concerning it anywhere. Meanwhile I went on advertising.
In this pride-crushing knowledge there was only one consolation, ... namely, that if his Dream was a true reflection of his Past, and exact in details as he felt it must be, then "Nourhalma," had not been given to Al-Kyris, ... it had been composed, but not made public. Hence, so far, it was new to the world, though not new to himself.
He was a great admirer of physical strength and beauty, and Alwyn's noble face and fine figure had won his respect, though of the genius of the poet he knew nothing, and cared less. It was enough for all the purposes of social usage that the author of "Nourhalma" was CONSIDERED illustrious, no matter whether he deserved the appellation or not.
And with a charming condescension he handed a full goblet of wine to his cantankerous Critic, who accepted it ungraciously, muttering in his beard the necessary words of thanks for his master's consideration, then, turning to Theos, the Laureate continued: "And thou, my friend, what dost thou think of 'Nourhalma' so far?
Little by little, like sharp deep stabs of nervous suffering, there came back to him a few faint, fragmentary suggestions which gradually formed themselves into a distinct and comprehensive certainty, . . "Nourhalma" was the title of HIS OWN POEM, the poem HE had written, surely not so very long ago, among the mountains of the Pass of Dariel!
This expression, however, was transitory, it passed, and the dark eyes of the Laureate gleamed with a merely serene and affectionate complacency as he said: "I thank thee for thy praise, good Theos! thou art indeed the friendliest of critics! Hadst thou THYSELF been the author of 'Nourhalma' thou couldst not have spoken with more ardent feeling!
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