"It is quite safe," answered Gretchen serenely, from the slippery platform on which she stood; "and besides, you know, if my day and hour have come —"
They had reached the ledge where a niche in the rock formed a sort of sanctuary, a white stone chapel, which shone like ice in the torchlight. The stone was broken here into the finest lace-work, and twisted into Gothic columns.
"I have found some silver," said Gretchen, as she put up her hand, and broke off one of the glistening icicles which hung in a thick and dazzling fringe above her.
Her arm was round the pillar, and as she bent forward, her loosened plaits slipped from their hold and hung down her back. To the spectators below she looked like some vision that was scarcely earthly; to Tryphosa's eyes she was a tempting siren, who was luring her lover into that crystal bower to hide him for ever away from her sight.
As for István, he could not look away; the surroundings excited his ever-ready fancy. This scene bore something of the fairy-like glamour of that other scene, when he had found Gretchen asleep on the bank in the sunset. From the loosened waves of her hair there Deemed to pour a flood of fire. He was bewildered and blinded – he saw nothing but her. Without thinking of what he did, he put out his hand and touched the curling end of her hair.
"And I have found some gold," he said, very low, "the most beautiful that the world holds."
"Gretchen!"
Who was calling her? Whose voice was that? So familiar and yet so changed? So calm, and, in its very calmness, so startling?
"Gretchen!" said Vincenz again, and still in that studiously quiet tone, "I entreat of you to come down."
"Nobody need come up who is afraid," said Tolnay, with a laugh which was all but insolent.
Vincenz did not answer him; he did not even look at him; his eyes were fixed on Gretchen.
"I beg you to come down," he said again; "your father has made me responsible for your safety."
Still she did not speak, standing as immovable as the stone pillar beside her, with her hand in Tolnay's, but with her eyes on those of Vincenz. She appeared to be hesitating, though she said not a word.
"My dear Dr Komers," called back István, "do you really think that nobody but yourself can take care of Fräulein Mohr? Might you not at least leave her a little choice in the matter?"
"Gretchen, come down! I insist on it!" It was his voice again, but this time raised, sharp, and peremptory.
He stood at the foot of the rock and looked upwards; and Gretchen, still hesitating, looked down at him. By his attitude and by his eyes, by the pallor of his face and the suppressed passion of his tone, she knew that in a second more he would be standing beside her on the ledge, and that her obedience would be taken by force, if it were not now given with her will.
"Stay here!" whispered Tolnay, beside her.
"Come down!" said Vincenz, once more.
She made no answer to either, but mechanically she dropped Tolnay's hand; and with her eyes still fixed on Vincenz, she made a step downwards, then stood still, then made another step; moving all the time with the blind groping gestures of a somnambulist, conscious that her will was gone from
