he axe still in her hand,
slowly and stealthily, seeking the shadow. Dromon followed her closely.

Meanwhile Mataswintha, for she it was, had opened the door and gone
forward, down many steps and then through a small passage, feeling the
way with her hands.

She now reached the door of the prison. She opened it very softly.

Through an aperture high up on the wall, where a stone had been taken
out, a slanting strip of moonlight fell into the square and narrow
dungeon.

The light revealed the prisoner. He sat motionless upon a block of
stone, his back turned to the door, his head supported on his hands.

Mataswintha trembled and leaned against the doorpost. The air felt damp
and icy-cold. She shivered. She could not say a word for very horror.

Witichis remarked the draught of air from the open door. He lifted his
head, but did not look round.

"Witichis--King Witichis--" at last stammered Mataswintha; "it is I!
Dost thou hear me?"

But the prisoner did not move.

"I come to save thee--fly! Thou art free!"

But the prisoner dropped his head again.

"Oh, speak!--oh, only look at me!"

She now went quite into the dungeon. Gladly would she have touched his
arm, and taken his hand, but she did not yet dare.

"Cethegus will kill thee!" she said; "torture thee. He surely will if
thou dost not fly!"

And now her desperation gave her courage. She drew nearer.

"But thou wilt fly! Thou shalt not die! I must save thee! I beseech
thee, fly, fly! Oh, thou dost not hear me, and time presses! Sometime
thou shalt know everything! but now fly--to life and liberty! I have
the keys of the doors! fly, fly!" And now she grasped his arm and tried
to drag him from his seat.

But she heard the rattling of chains--on his arms on his feet. He was
chained to the block of stone.

"Oh! what is this?" she cried, and fell upon her knees.

"Stone and iron," he said, in a toneless voice. "Leave me, I am doomed.
And even if these bonds did not hold me--I would not follow thee. Back
to the world? The world is one great lie. Everything is a lie."

"Thou art right. It is better to die. Let me die with thee, but forgive
me! For I, too, have lied to thee."

"It is very possible. It does not surprise me."

"But thou wilt forgive me before we die? I have hated thee--I have
rejoiced in thy ruin--I have--oh, it is so hard to tell! I have not the
strength to confess it! And yet I must have thy forgiveness. Oh,
forgive me!--give me thy h