want. Delicate foods were offered and 

 every shift was tried to tempt him back 

 to strength and prison life. 



He ate and lived. 



And still he lives, but pacing pac- 

 ing pacing you may see him, 

 scanning not the crowds, but some- 

 thing beyond the crowds, breaking 

 down at times into petulant rages, but 

 recovering anon his ponderous dig- 

 nity, looking waiting watching 

 held ever by that Hope, that unknown 

 Hope, that came. Kellyan has been 

 to him since, but Monarch knows him 

 not. Over his head, beyond him, was 

 the great Bear's gaze, far away toward 

 Tallac or far away on the sea, we 

 knowing not which or why, but pac- 

 ing pacing pacing held like the 

 storied Wandering One to a life of 

 ceaseless journey a journey aimless, 

 endless, and sad. 



