her black hair back from her forehead with her
slender hand, and walked firmly to the house.

The old dame was crouching beside the hearth in the middle room, turning
the metal spit, on which she 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 th