"And the best is surely a good death," returned the Bohemian, "only that I should be loath to breathe my last in this strange land."
The Bohemian never lost an opportunity of airing his favourite complaint, and even Gretchen had given up arguing with him on the point. In face of all logic, and despite the clearest demonstration, he insisted on considering himself as a stranger and an exile.
"Are we going out again soon?" asked Tryphosa, in a tone of desperate resignation.
Since they had done their duty by looking at the cave, she did not see why the torture should be prolonged.
"Going out again!" repeated Gretchen; "why, we have scarcely come in."
"But we cannot go further," said the poor Princess, in an accent which might have moved a heart of marble. And yet the very tone, instead of softening her fair and cruel rival, seemed rather to steel Gretchen against pity.
All daylong the girl had been in a strange humour – a mood of reckless gaiety; different altogether from her usual self-possession. She seemed like a teetotaller who has indulged in wine, and has become light-headed in consequence. Perhaps Tryphosa's presence had spurred her on to this open encouragement of Tolnay, in which she had never so undisguisedly indulged; perhaps István's homage, now quite ostentatious, had intoxicated her for the moment, giving that red-rose flush to her cheek and that deep brilliancy to her eyes. She was lovely; and yet there was about her loveliness to-day something that repelled even while it fascinated, something that startled even while it dazzled.
"We can go a great deal further," she decreed, while with her torch held high she looked around her. "This is only the ground-floor, and I want to see the upper storeys; don't you see that we have got staircases all round us? We can explore every one of these niches up there; and I daresay we could walk all round the cave upon that ledge, although perhaps it is a little slippery."
"And we can illuminate the place with our torches," completed István, who, while Gretchen spoke, had already commenced to spring up the perilous rocks at the side. "It is quite safe, Fräulein Mohr," he said, turning.
"It is quite safe, Princess," repeated Gretchen. "Are you coming up also?"
There was a flash of cruel coldness, of an almost wicked triumph, in the gaze which met Tryphosa's. The Princess stood dumb before it; while her hand instinctively felt for the wrecks of the amber rosary, just as she would have sought to protect herself from the presence of some evil spirit.
She stood in a sort of trance, feeling as if every tone of that clear voice was cutting into her heart like a silver blade, knowing that every movement of that graceful figure was a step which crushed her happiness.
She saw, as if in a dream, that Gretchen was mounting the rocks, and that Tolnay held out his hand to help her; she saw but these two figures alone, and she heard not a word of what the others around were speaking.
There had been a general protest at Gretchen's first step up the rocks. Mr Howard had argued, even Kurt had objected; only Dr Komers had stood by silent.
"Do not go up there, Fräulein; it is not safe," entreated the Bohemian.
