ely it was impossible not to believe
in it and trust its power!"

Here she hesitated, and while gazing silently into vacancy a sunny
light flitted over her grave face, and, drawing a long breath, she began
again: "I could curse those days of weakness and ecstasy which now--at
least I hope so--are over. Yet they were wonderfully beautiful, and
never can I forget them!"

Here she again bowed her head silently, but the old dame nodded
encouragingly, saying eagerly; "Well, well! I understand all that, and
I shall learn what more is coming, for whatever appears in the mirror
of the wine is infallible--but it must become still more distinct. Let
me--first conjure up the seventy-seven great and the seven hundred and
seventy-seven little demons. They will do their duty, if you open your
heart to us without reserve."

This demand sounded urgent enough, and Ledscha pressed her head against
the old woman's shoulder as if seeking assistance, exclaiming: "I can
not--no, I can not! As if the spirits who obey you did not know already
what had happened and will happen in the future! Let them search the
depths of my soul. There they will see, with their own eyes, what I
should never, never succeed in describing. I could not tell even
you, grandmother, for who among the Biamites ever found such lofty,
heart-bewitching words as Hermon? And what looks, what language he had
at command, when he desired to put an end to my jealous complaints!
Could I still be angry with him, when he confessed that there were other
beauties here whom he admired, and then gazed deep into my eyes and said
that when I appeared they all vanished like the stars at sunrise? Then
every reproach was forgotten, and resentment was transformed into doubly
ardent longing. This, however, by no means escaped his keen glance,
which detects everything, and so he urged me with touching, ardent
entreaties to go with him to his studio, though but for one poor, brief
hour."

"And you granted his wish?" Tabus anxiously interrupted.

"Yes," she answered frankly, "but it was the evening of the day before
yesterday--that was the only time. Secrecy--nothing, Grand mother, was
more hateful to me from childhood."

"But he," the old woman again interrupted, "he--I know it--he praised it
to you as the noblest virtue."

A silent nod from Ledscha confirmed this conjecture, and she added
hesitatingly: "'Only far from the haunts of men,' he said, 'when the
light had vanished, did we