you to be afraid, Kaya. Your eyes are like a doe's!
Don't be frightened, little one."

She looked at him and tried to speak, but no words came.

"If I yielded to you, Kaya, if I let you be conquered by the
stage-terror once, it would be a rock in your path forever. Come with
me! My will is strong, stronger than yours, and I swear you shall
come! If I have to carry you in my arms to the stage, you shall come;
and you will thank me for it afterwards when the terror has passed."

"No--no!" The girl pressed closer against the wall, "Don't, dear
Master, take your hands from my shoulders. I cannot!"

"Come."

"No."

He stared down into the blue eyes: "I tell you you shall come. You are
throwing away the chance of a lifetime; do you understand? If you have
no care for your own future, I shall care for it for you. Kaya!"

"No."

"Come, I tell you!"

His eyes were hard and cold, and her form was slight; it reeled in his
grasp. She gazed at him and her chin was set like his own.

"If you care for me, Kaya, if you are grateful--" he hesitated, "Ah,
come with me, Kaya! It is not fear I see in your eyes; it is something
else. What is it? Tell me!" He put his arm about her shoulders
suddenly, and the harsh look left his face: "Confide in me, little one,
I won't try to force you. You are slight and frail, but your will is
like iron; it is useless. If I carried you it would be useless."

Kaya took a quick breath. "Dear Master," she said, "It is not the
audience I fear, not the audience, but it is someone in the audience.
If that someone should see me and--and recognize me!"

"You forget, Kaya; did I recognize you?"

"No, but the foot-lights were not in my face. When the House is
crowded and the curtain is up, and the glare is full in my eyes, then--"

"You are disguised by the hair red-blonde, and the helmet covering. No
one could tell! At a distance you are not Kaya, you are Bruennhilde.
Bruennhilde is always the same. When your eyes are hidden, Kaya, and
your curls--the House is large--no one could tell!" He was drawing her
slowly toward the door.

"You did not," said Kaya, "but--if he were there he would know."

"Who?"

She looked at him mutely, and he took his hand from her shoulder.

"Whoever it is," exclaimed Ritter harshly, "from the House, I swear to
you, your own mother would not know you, unless she had seen you before
in the part. That is nonsense! From the orchestra perhaps, fro