ed, raised her shaking head, looked at Ledscha's flushed
face, and in a grave, warning tone, said: "Many signs of happiness, but
also many dark shadows and black spots. If he is the one, child, you
must be on your guard."

"He is," murmured the girl softly, as if speaking to herself.

But the deaf old crone had read the words from her lips, and while
gazing intently at the wine, went on impatiently: "If the picture would
only grow more distinct! As it was, so it has remained. And now! The
image of the fair man with the deep-blue eyes melts away entirely, and a
gray cloud flutters between you and the other one with the black beard.
If it would only scatter! But we shall never make any progress in this
way. Now pay attention, girl."

The words had an imperious tone, and with outstretched head and
throbbing heart Ledscha awaited the old woman's further commands.

They came at once and ordered her to confess, as freely and openly as
though she was talking to herself, where she had met the man whom she
loved, how he had succeeded in snaring her heart, and how he repaid her
for the passion which he had awakened.

These commands were so confused and mingled in utterance that any one
less familiar with the speaker would scarcely have comprehended what
they required of her, but Ledscha understood and was ready to obey.

CHAPTER IV.

This reserved, thoroughly self-reliant creature would never have
betrayed to any human being what moved her soul and filled it some times
with inspiring hope, sometimes with a consuming desire for vengeance;
but Ledscha did not shrink from confiding it to the demons who were to
help her to regain her composure.

So, obeying a swift impulse, she threw herself on her knees by the old
woman's side. Then, supporting her head with her hands, she gazed at the
still glimmering fire, and, as if one memory after another received new
life from it, she began the difficult confession:

"I returned from my sister's brick-kiln a fortnight ago," she commenced,
while the sorceress leaned her deaf ear nearer to her lips.

"During my absence something--I know not what it was--had saddened the
cheerful spirits of my young sister Taus. At the recent festival of
Astarte she regained them, and obtained some beautiful bright flowers
to make wreaths for herself and me. So we joined the procession of the
Tennis maidens and, as the fairest, they placed us directly behind the
daughters of Hiram.

"When we we