An occasional pool of water, lying silent and placid, mirrored the clear, blue sky with its fleecy clouds, which seemed to intermingle with the tall green branches, as both cast their reflection in the water beneath.  Only the soft rustling of the leaves, and the hum of thousands of insects as they sang together a sweet, dreamy forest song was to be heard.  The very sunbeams seemed to echo this melody as they followed closely the two wanderers, as if this man and woman had come beneath their ban and would have some penalty to pay for crossing their shining path so carelessly.  Suddenly an unexpected barrier stood in their way.  From a thickly wooded elevation, a broad mountain stream came rushing down, seeking its way between bushes and rocks.  Rojanow halted abruptly and cast a quick glance up and down, to see if any means of crossing were to be found, but his eyes could discover nothing, and turning to his companion, he said: 

“I fear we are in an unpleasant situation here.  This stream barricades our path completely.  Usually it is no hard matter to cross it, for those mossy stones make a good enough bridge, but yesterday’s heavy rain has misplaced them or covered them completely.”

The young lady had stopped, too, and was looking up and down the stream also, for some crossing.

“Could we not cross farther up?” she asked, indicating a certain spot above them.

“No, because the water is swifter and deeper in that direction.  This is the best place to get across.  There is nothing to be done but to carry you over, and that, with your permission, I will do.”

The offer was made most courteously, almost hesitatingly, but there was a gleam of triumph in Hartmut’s eye, notwithstanding his modest demeanor.  This time she must accept his assistance, even if she had left the veil hanging in the thorns rather than do so.  There was no choice now, she must trust herself in his arms in order to reach the opposite shore.  He came up to her now as if he took her consent for granted, but she drew back.

“I thank you, Herr Rojanow.”  Hartmut smiled with an irony which he made no attempt to conceal.  He was master of the situation now, and thought to remain so.

“Would you rather go around?” he asked.  “It will take us more than an hour and here we will be across in a minute or two.  You need not doubt the strength of my arms, and I am sure footed; it is not at all a dangerous place to cross.”

“I agree with you,” was the quiet answer, “and for that reason I will essay to cross it alone.”

“Alone?  That is impossible, Fraeulein.”

“To step through a forest brook?  I do not consider that an especially difficult achievement.”

“But the water is deeper than you believe.  You will be wet through and through, and besides—­it is really impossible.”

“A wetting will do me no harm, for I do not take cold easily.  Pray lead the way and I will follow.”