he had put the ducks, over the freshly kindled
fire.

The smoke hurt her eyes, which were slightly inflamed, yet they seemed to
serve their purpose better than her half-dulled ear, for, after a swift
glance at Ledscha, she stammered in her faltering speech: "What has
happened? Nothing good, certainly. It is written on your face."

The girl nodded assent, pointed with a significant gesture to her eyes
and the open air, and went down to the shore again to convince herself
that no other vessel was approaching.

What she had to confide to Tabus was intended for her alone, and
experience taught how far spoken words could be heard at night over the
water.

When she had returned to the hut, she bent down to the old woman's ear
and, holding her curved hand to her lips, cried, "He is not coming!"

Tabus shrugged her shoulders, and the smile of satisfaction which flitted
over her brown, wrinkled face showed that the news was welcome.

For her murdered grandson's sake the girl's confession that she had given
her heart to a Greek affected her painfully; but Tabus also had something
else on her mind for her beautiful darling.

Now she only intimated by a silent nod that she understood Ledscha, and
her head remained constantly in motion as the latter continued: "True, I
shall see him again to-morrow, but when we part, it will hardly be in
love. At any rate--do you hear, grandmother?--to-morrow must decide
everything. Therefore--do you understand me?--you must question the cords
now, to-night, for to-morrow evening what they advised might be too
late."

"Now?" repeated Tabus in surprise, letting her gaze rest inquiringly upon
the girl. Then she took the spit from the fire, exclaiming angrily:
"Directly, do you mean? As if that could be! As if the stars obeyed us
mortals like maids or men servants! The moon must be at the full to learn
the truth from the cords. Wait, child! What is life but waiting? Only
have patience, girl! True, few know how to practise this art at your age,
and it is alien to many all their lives. But the stars! From them, the
least and the greatest, man can learn to go his way patiently, year by
year. Always the same course and the same pace. No deviation even one
hair's breadth, no swifter or slower movement for the unresting
wanderers. No sudden wrath, no ardent desire, no weariness or aversion
urges or delays them. How I love and honour them! They willingly submit
to the great law until the end of all t