rehead;
his face turned hard, like that of a statue, and while he panted and
struggled with the demon in his bosom, the pistol-barrel bent in his
clenched hands like a wax taper, and so remained. I was wonder-struck.
'See!' I cried, 'you cannot shoot now any more with that pistol. So let
him go; don't lay a finger on him.' Then my brother embraced and kissed
me, and, lifting his hand to heaven, said, 'I promise you, sister Anna,
that for your sake I will not kill the man, but will let him live.'"

How her lover's image grew in Blanka's heart and assumed larger
proportions as she listened to this recital! The twin sister was the
brother's complement. It was necessary to know the nature of the one in
order to understand that of the other. Hitherto Manasseh's self-control
in foregoing all revenge had excited Blanka's wonder only; she had
thought that the secret of this self-mastery was to be found in a rigid
dogma only, but now she perceived that what really shielded the
wretched culprit was the magic influence of a woman's faithful heart
that could cease to love only when it ceased to beat. The pledge won
from him by his sister Manasseh had come to regard as no less sacred
than the articles of his faith. Thenceforth he commanded not merely the
love of his betrothed, but her adoration.

* * * * *

Blanka soon found herself leading a life that differed in every respect
from that which she had so recently quitted. In the Cagliari palace she
had been left entirely to herself, and when she went abroad it had been
only to witness scenes of intrigue and envy, dissipation and frivolity,
hypocrisy and deceit, on every side. But in her new home she found a
large family of honest souls living in loving harmony under one roof,
all its members engaged in active work for the common good, and sharing
at a common table the bread that they earned. Every joy, every sorrow
was common to all, and so the newcomer was at once claimed as a sister
by all alike, and immediately became a universal favourite. Work was
found for her, too, every one assuming that she would far rather work
than be idle; and, indeed, she would gladly have engaged in any toil,
however severe, but the others would not let her overtax her strength in
labours for which they were much better fitted than she. A task was
found for her, however, exactly suited to her capacity,--the keeping of
the family accounts. She received a big book, in whi