for I am much more exposed to the fire of
pointed rifles than to the fire of pretty eyes."

"Are you then a robber chieftain, a mountain smuggler?"

"I am a lot of things."

"Then take me with you into your band"--she spoke with heaving bosom.

But Fatia Negra stamped his foot.

"It cannot be, Anicza," said he; "think no more of it! I will never take
you with me."

"Why not?" asked the girl and her eyes flashed like a wild cat's.

"Because then I should become jealous of you and that would be bad for
us both. Remain in your father's house; there you are safe."

The girl drew from her bosom the defaced ducat she had just received
together with the crucifix.

"Hearken, Fatia Negra! my father says that this badly coined piece of
gold places your life in my hand. And know, besides, Fatia Negra, that I
have sworn on this Crucified One here that if ever you betray me I will
kill you in my fury without thinking twice about the how or where. It is
not well that two such dangerous objects should repose on my heart.
Look! I give them both to you."

"Wherefore, Anicza?"

"Take the things, I say, and keep them, for my guardian angel knows, I
have told him, that with me they are not in a safe place. You do not
know me yet."

The girl burst out crying, and Fatia Negra could no longer soothe her
with kisses, and then old Onucz poked his gray shaggy head through the
doorway and said: "I have been paid already, Domnule, have you?"

Fatia Negra stroked the girl's hair and face and whispered her not to
take on so.

The stitches of the old Roumanian's patience now, at last, gave way
altogether. "Domnule," said he, "would you not, if I earnestly besought
you to do so, begin to think of the day on which you intend to become my
daughter's husband?"

For a moment Fatia Negra seemed thunderstruck; then he recovered himself
and replied in a calm but menacing voice: "If ever it occurs to you to
put the question to me again, your head will reach home an hour earlier
than yourself."

The old man made no reply, but he seized the girl by the hand and led
her away with him, returning to the mill with her by the same way that
he had come. They found their horses by the alder trees and remounted.
It was a fine clear night, and Onucz told his daughter to ride in front.
They had now divided the coined gold into two portions. When they had
once more reached the ridge of the mountain the old man pronounced
Anicza's name in a low tone. T