This, however, could not be. So Midas had only to
wring his hands, and to wish that he were the poorest man in the
wide world, if the loss of all his wealth might bring back the
faintest rose-color to his dear child's face.
IX.
While he was in this tumult of despair, he suddenly beheld a
stranger, standing near the door. Midas bent down his head,
without speaking; for he recognized the same figure which had
appeared to him the day before in the treasure room, and had
bestowed on him this disastrous power of the Golden Touch. The
stranger's countenance still wore a smile, which seemed to shed a
yellow luster all about the room, and gleamed on little
Marygold's image, and on the other objects that had been
transmuted by the touch of Midas.
"Well, friend Midas," said the stranger, "pray, how do you
succeed with the Golden Touch?"
Midas shook his head.
"I am very miserable," said he.
"Very miserable! indeed!" exclaimed the stranger; "and how
happens that? Have I not faithfully kept my promise with you?
Have you not everything that your heart desired?"
"Gold is not everything," answered Midas.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230