Here she again bowed her head silently, but the old dame nodded encouragingly, saying eagerly; “Well, well!  I understand all that, and I shall learn what more is coming, for whatever appears in the mirror of the wine is infallible—­but it must become still more distinct.  Let me—­first conjure up the seventy-seven great and the seven hundred and seventy-seven little demons.  They will do their duty, if you open your heart to us without reserve.”

This demand sounded urgent enough, and Ledscha pressed her head against the old woman’s shoulder as if seeking assistance, exclaiming:  “I can not—­no, I can not!  As if the spirits who obey you did not know already what had happened and will happen in the future!  Let them search the depths of my soul.  There they will see, with their own eyes, what I should never, never succeed in describing.  I could not tell even you, grandmother, for who among the Biamites ever found such lofty, heart-bewitching words as Hermon?  And what looks, what language he had at command, when he desired to put an end to my jealous complaints!  Could I still be angry with him, when he confessed that there were other beauties here whom he admired, and then gazed deep into my eyes and said that when I appeared they all vanished like the stars at sunrise?  Then every reproach was forgotten, and resentment was transformed into doubly ardent longing.  This, however, by no means escaped his keen glance, which detects everything, and so he urged me with touching, ardent entreaties to go with him to his studio, though but for one poor, brief hour.”

“And you granted his wish?” Tabus anxiously interrupted.

“Yes,” she answered frankly, “but it was the evening of the day before yesterday—­that was the only time.  Secrecy—­nothing, Grand mother, was more hateful to me from childhood.”

“But he,” the old woman again interrupted, “he—­I know it—­he praised it to you as the noblest virtue.”

A silent nod from Ledscha confirmed this conjecture, and she added hesitatingly:  “‘Only far from the haunts of men,’ he said, ’when the light had vanished, did we hear the nightingale trill in the dark thickets.  Those are his own words, and though it angers you, Grandmother, they are true.”

“Until the secrecy is over, and the sun shines upon misery,” the sorceress answered in her faltering speech, with menacing severity.

“And beneath the tempter’s roof you enjoyed the lauded secret love until the cock roused you?”

“No,” replied Ledscha firmly.  “Did I ever tell you a lie, that you look at me so incredulously?”

“Incredulously?” replied the old woman in protest.  “I only trembled at the danger into which you plunged.”

“There could be no greater peril,” the girl admitted.  “I foresaw it clearly enough, and yet—­this is the most terrible part of it—­yet my feet moved as if obeying a will of their own, instead of mine, and when I crossed his threshold, resistance was silenced, for I was received like a princess.  The lofty, spacious apartment was brilliantly illuminated, and the door was garlanded with flowers.