e crafty lies of the Italian Dominic flashed upon him; and,
never questioning that the Countess had given the ring to her
favourite, he sprang upon Cuno as though he would strangle him. Then
in a moment he flung him aside, and in a voice of thunder cried for the
wildest steed in his stables to be brought forth. Paralysed with
fright, the luckless page was seized and bound by the heels to the tail
of the half-tame creature, which was led out beyond the drawbridge, and
pricked with daggers till it flung off the men-at-arms and dashed
screaming down the rocky ascent into the wildwood.

Stung to madness by his jealousy, the Count rushed to the apartment of
the Countess. "False and faithless, false and faithless!" he cried in
hoarse rage, and clutching her in his iron grasp, lifted her in the air
and hurled her through the casement into the horrible abyss below.

As she fell Itha commended her soul to God. The world seemed to reel
and swim around her; she felt as if that long lapse through space would
never have an end, and then it appeared to her as though she were
peacefully musing in her chair, and she saw the castle of Kirchberg and
the pleasant fields lying serene in the sunlight, and the happy
villages, each with its great crucifix beside its rustic church, and
men and women at labour in the fields. How long that vision lasted she
could not tell. Then as in her fall she was passing through the tops
of the trees which climbed up the lower ledges of the castle rocks,
green leafy hands caught her dress and held her a little, and strong
arms closed about her, and yielded slowly till she touched the ground;
and she knew that the touch of these was not the mere touch of
senseless things, but a contact of sweetness and power which thrilled
through her whole being.

Falling on her knees, she thanked God for her escape, and rising again
she went into the forest, wondering whither she should betake herself
and what she should do; for now she had no husband and no home. She
left the beaten track, and plunging through the bracken, walked on till
she was tired. Then she sat down on a boulder. Among the pines it was
already dusk, and the air seemed filled with a grey mist, but this was
caused by the innumerable dry wiry twigs which fringed the lower
branches of the trees with webs of fine cordage; and when a ray of the
setting sun struck through the pine trunks, it lit up the bracken with
emerald and brightened the ruddy