“Now I am sure that you are mad,” exclaimed Palka.  “Come, Hilda, and leave this fool to make trial of his cure for blindness.”

“Nay,” answered Martina, “I must stay with my uncle, although I am very much afraid.  If I did not, he would beat me afterwards.”

“Beat you!  Hodur beat a woman!  Oh! you are both mad.  Or perhaps you are ghosts also.  I have thought it once or twice, who at least am sure that you are other than you seem.  Holy Jesus! this place grows dark, and I tell you it is full of dead kings.  May the Saints guard you; at the least, you’ll keep high company at your death.  Farewell; whate’er befalls, blame me not who warned you,” and she departed at a run, the empty vessels rattling on her back and the dog yapping behind her.

When she had gone the silence grew deep.

“Now, Martina,” I whispered, “find some place where we may hide whence you can see this Table of Offerings.”

She led me to where a fallen rock lay within a few paces, and behind it we sat ourselves down in such a position that Martina could watch the Table of Offerings by the light of the moon.

Here we waited for a long while; it may have been two hours, or three, or four.  At least I knew that, although I could see nothing, the solemnity of that place sank into my soul.  I felt as though the dead were moving about me in the silence.  I think it was the same with Martina, for although the night was very hot in that stifling, airless valley, she shivered at my side.  At last I felt her start and heard her whisper: 

“I see a figure.  It creeps from the shadow of the cliff towards the Table of Offerings.”

“What is it like?” I asked.

“It is a woman’s figure draped in white cloths; she looks about her; she takes up the offerings and places them in a basket she carries.  It is a woman—­no ghost—­for she drinks from one of the jars.  Oh! now the moonlight shines upon her face; it is that of Heliodore!”

I heard and could restrain myself no longer.  Leaping up, I ran towards where I knew the Table of Offerings to be.  I tried to speak, but my voice choked in my throat.  The woman saw or heard me coming through the shadows.  At least, uttering a low cry, she fled away, for I caught the sound of her feet on the rocks and sand.  Then I tripped over a stone and fell down.

In a moment Martina was at my side.

“Truly you are foolish, Olaf,” she said.  “Did you think that the lady Heliodore would know you at night, changed as you are and in this garb, that you must rush at her like an angry bull?  Now she has gone, and perchance we shall never find her more.  Why did you not speak to her?”

“Because my voice choked within me.  Oh! blame me not, Martina.  If you knew what it is to love as I do and after so many fears and sorrows——­”

“I trust that I should know also how to control my love,” broke in Martina sharply.  “Come, waste no more time in talk.  Let us search.”