what ails him. Since yesterday he has been lying down shaking and
trembling, while the day before he was skipping about and turning
somersaults. Fatia Negra (Domne Zeu,[28] forgive my lips for uttering
that name) was playing with him for a long time.' 'Did he come hither?'
'Yes, he said he was on his way to you.' 'He lied. Then it was he who
poisoned the bear.'

[Footnote 28: The Lord God.]

"Mariora trembled at these words, and grew paler than ever.

"I seized her by the hand and drew her with me into the hut. I whispered
in her ear that I knew all. 'The accursed wretch has been faithless to
me because of your pretty eyes. He swore to me by sunlight and he swore
to you by moonlight, but you would not listen to him. You love your
husband and Black Mask relies on his strength now that fair words have
failed. The coward has poisoned your faithful guardian like the wretched
thief, the miserable house-breaker, that he is.'--Mariora's hut was
lighted by the flame that flickered on the hearth. A bedstead of
linden-wood covered with goat-skins, a table of slate and a few
three-legged chairs were all the furniture. There was also a nicely
carved and painted little cradle in which lay the little child,
sleeping, with his plump little hands drawn up behind his head, like an
angel. In the extreme corner of the room the faithful beast lay all of a
heap on a lair of soft moss,--at the last gasp. He groaned and shivered
continually like one in a fever, and raised his failing eyes with such
an eloquent appeal to his mistress, as if he would have spoken to her.
Sometimes he pricked his ears as if he were listening and snuffed
joyously. Perchance he expected his master, perhaps he wanted to lick
his hands for the last time. Poor beast, how I pitied him! 'He will
die,' I whispered to Mariora. I durst not say it aloud for I imagined
the beast understood everything which men say to one another. 'And then
will come the tempter, who knows that you are alone and defenceless.' I
told her everything which your ladyship told me, and the woman trembled
like an aspen-leaf.

"'Where is Juon Tare encamping now?' I asked Mariora.

"'Only a mile from here in the Vale Capra.'

"Hem! It is impossible to get there on horseback, but I can reach him by
going on foot. Meanwhile you lock yourself in, put out the fire, and
whatever noise you hear, do not open the door till we come back.

"'Nay,' said Mariora, 'you must not go away. If Juon ought to com