not move till she
heard the first sound of the bell as it struck eight, and then she
gave a little jump as she found that her lover was close upon her.

"So you are here, Nina," he said, putting his hand upon her arm.

"Of course I am here, Anton. I have been looking, and looking, and
looking, thinking you never would come; and how did you get here?"

"I am as punctual as the clock, my love."

"Oh yes, you are punctual, I know; but where did you come from?"

"I came down the hill from the Hradschin. I have had business there. It
did not occur to your simplicity that I could reach you otherwise than
by the direct road from my own home."

"I never thought of your coming from the side of the Hradschin," said
Nina, wondering whether any of those lights she had seen could have
been there for the use of Anton Trendellsohn. "I am so glad you have
come to me. It is so good of you."

"It is good of you to come and meet me, my own one. But you are cold.
Let us walk, and you will be warmer."

Nina, who had already put her hand upon her lover's arm, thrust it in
a little farther, encouraged by such sweet words; and then he took her
little hand in his, and drew her still nearer to him, till she was
clinging to him very closely. "Nina, my own one," he said again. He had
never before been in so sweet a mood with her. Walk with him? Yes; she
would walk with him all night if he would let her. Instead of turning
again over the bridge as she had expected, he took her back into the
Kleinseite, not bearing round to the right in the direction of her
own house, but going up the hill into a large square, round which
the pathway is covered by the overhanging houses, as is common for
avoidance of heat in Southern cities. Here, under the low colonnade, it
was very dark, and the passengers going to and fro were not many. At
each angle of the square where the neighbouring streets entered it,
in the open space, there hung a dull, dim oil-lamp; but other light
there was none. Nina, however, did not mind the darkness while Anton
Trendellsohn was with her. Even when walking close under the buttresses
of St Nicholas--of St Nicholas, who could not but have been offended--
close under the very niche in which stood the statue of the saint--she
had no uncomfortable qualms. When Anton was with her she did not much
regard the saints. It was when she was alone that those thoughts on her
religion came to disturb her mind. "I do so like walking with you,