e one
evening all ragged and travel-stained? Why the very soldier-youngster
who had wanted to fight a duel with me! To avenge his sweetheart he had
shot his captain and had to make a bolt of it."

The woman and Ivan involuntarily looked at each other with terror.

"You may imagine how I laughed the poor youth out of countenance when I
recognised him. Every time I met him I used to say to him: 'Well, what
do you say to our fighting our duel now?' He could not stand such
heckling long. On the third day he skedaddled, and I don't know what
became of the poor fellow. I have little doubt, however, that since then
he has been shot dead."

"If they have not done it yet it won't be very long before they do,"
observed Ivan.

"Hush!"--hissed the woman with a warning gesture.

The unknown did not seem, however, to have noticed this little piece of
by-play.

At that moment the report of a gun was heard from the headsman's window.
At night he used regularly to discharge his firearms and load them again
immediately afterwards. He was afraid that someone might have got at
them in the course of the day and either extracted the bullets or damped
the powder. He did not feel himself safe in his own house, and always
locked the door of his room before he lay down to sleep.

"Now you will be able to have a talk with him if you like," said the
virago. "The girl will come down presently, as usual, to fetch him his
water for the night, you can let her know that you are here and want to
speak to him."

Shortly afterwards the door opened and, with a lighted taper in one hand
and a ewer in the other, the moon-pale little maid entered the room. She
came very quietly, as if afraid of making the slightest noise. Her
beautiful blonde locks had been unloosed, for it was bedtime, and
strayed freely over her smooth snow-white shoulders, her tiny bare feet
seemed to kiss rather than touch the ground.

The stranger gazed at the gentle creature with rapt delight. She did not
appear to notice him in the semi-darkness, as she glided past him
through the vestibule on her way to the well.

"Is that your own child, my fair dame?" asked the unknown, flashing his
eagle eyes full upon the woman.

"Yes, my own child!"

"How fair she is, and how pale!"

The woman laughed.

"While I am so brown and ruddy, eh?"

And again she laughed aloud.

The face of the unknown blushed deeply. One could have sworn it was a
woman. It was the blush of shame tha