“Do you not recognize the language of Swedenborg?” said the pastor, laughing, to Wilfrid.  “Here it is; pure from the source.”

But Wilfrid and Minna were gazing in terror at old David, who, with hair erect, and eyes distraught, his legs trembling and covered with snow, for he had come without snow-shoes, stood swaying from side to side, as if some boisterous wind were shaking him.

“Is he harmed?” cried Minna.

“The devils hope and try to conquer her,” replied the old man.

The words made Wilfrid’s pulses throb.

“For the last five hours she has stood erect, her eyes raised to heaven and her arms extended; she suffers, she cries to God.  I cannot cross the barrier; Hell has posted the Vertumni as sentinels.  They have set up an iron wall between her and her old David.  She wants me, but what can I do?  Oh, help me! help me!  Come and pray!”

The old man’s despair was terrible to see.

“The Light of God is defending her,” he went on, with infectious faith, “but oh! she might yield to violence.”

“Silence, David! you are raving.  This is a matter to be verified.  We will go with you,” said the pastor, “and you shall see that there are no Vertumni, nor Satans, nor Sirens, in that house.”

“Your father is blind,” whispered David to Minna.

Wilfrid, on whom the reading of Swedenborg’s first treatise, which he had rapidly gone through, had produced a powerful effect, was already in the corridor putting on his skees; Minna was ready in a few moments, and both left the old men far behind as they darted forward to the Swedish castle.

“Do you hear that cracking sound?” said Wilfrid.

“The ice of the fiord stirs,” answered Minna; “the spring is coming.”

Wilfrid was silent.  When the two reached the courtyard they were conscious that they had neither the faculty nor the strength to enter the house.

“What think you of her?” asked Wilfrid.

“See that radiance!” cried Minna, going towards the window of the salon.  “He is there!  How beautiful!  O my Seraphitus, take me!”

The exclamation was uttered inwardly.  She saw Seraphitus standing erect, lightly swathed in an opal-tinted mist that disappeared at a little distance from the body, which seemed almost phosphorescent.

“How beautiful she is!” cried Wilfrid, mentally.

Just then Monsieur Becker arrived, followed by David; he saw his daughter and guest standing before the window; going up to them, he looked into the salon and said quietly, “Well, my good David, she is only saying her prayers.”

“Ah, but try to enter, Monsieur.”

“Why disturb those who pray?” answered the pastor.

At this instant the moon, rising above the Falberg, cast its rays upon the window.  All three turned round, attracted by this natural effect which made them quiver; when they turned back to again look at Seraphita she had disappeared.