much wealth, and she crimsoned with mingled sadness and resentment. Then a bitter pain filled her heart, and she felt she could not forgive her brother this moment of torture. He was speaking, but she did not hear his words. He presented her to the stranger, reversing the rightful order of the ceremony, but in her suffering she did not note the slight. Her hand was cold as death when she laid it in the stranger's, but then there came a surprise which sent the blood coursing quickly through her veins. She dared to look into his face, but she vainly sought the expression of pity or scorn which she expected to see there. She could almost have thought he found her beautiful, so earnestly were his brown eyes fixed upon her, so entirely did they seem to appeal to that inner self which she felt to be independent of the ugly envelope enshrining it.
"Her appearance seemed to fascinate the stranger."
Perhaps her costume pleased him also, for she perceived his glance travel over its details, and a bright smile light up his expressive features. She was wearing her usual dress, that of the peasants of the district; a laced scarlet bodice over a white chemisette, a short black skirt, strong shoes, and her hair plaited with ribbons. Her appearance seemed to fascinate the stranger, and his pleasure in it, though entirely well bred, was very manifest; but Nasha rapidly grew uneasy under the novel sense of receiving admiration. She was almost terrified by so complete a reversal of her previous experience, and she thankfully responded to old Getha, who, calling to her from the castle, enabled her to escape from the surprising presence of her brother's guest.
No preparations had been made for company, and the accommodation at Eagle's Gorge was of a scanty description; but the hostess and her old adherent did the best their ingenuity suggested, and in spite of all their visitor expressed himself more than content. When Nasha spoke of the dulness of life at the rock-bound castle, he laughed; and when the brother and sister wondered how he could endure its monotony, he looked at Nasha and declared that he had never known happiness before. The significance of his tone, and his persistent seeking of her society, filled his hostess with a weird dread which soon mastered all the passionate delight his presence kindled within her. She went one day to her brother, and said, with an effort to which she had braced herself:—
"This is witchcraft! I will have nothing to do with it."
Volmer took her slender wrists into his strong hands, and forced her to look at him.
"Then you are the witch," he said, ignoring the latter half of her speech. "Nasha, when this man asks you to be his wife———"
"When! Yes?"
"He will ask you. Do not refuse him; he loves you."
"Are you not trying to carry a trick too far?"
"And if it were a trick—would you find it difficult to forgive me? Would that be a great sin in your eyes which gave you the man you worship? No, do not struggle; you must hear me out. You will do me a service in marrying Ivo, and in return I give you, as I said before, his love."
"You have bewitched him! I will tell him the truth!"
"You may do as you please; but I swear to you that you go down on your knees and solemnly vow by your patron saint, he will not believe you—he will only believe what I corroborate."
