"And I did not suspect that you lived in this house," said Gerald, to whom George's movement had also restored composure, for it reminded him that this interview must have no witnesses. He therefore turned, saying with forced calmness:

"This young lady will be the best person to give me the information we desire. Wait outside the door till I call you."

George knew the meaning of subordination and was accustomed to obey his lieutenant implicitly, but this time every fibre of his being rebelled against discipline. In his eyes Gerald was bewitched; and therefore wholly incapable of sound judgment as soon as the witchcraft came into play. To leave him with the cause of all the mischief was resigning him to destruction.

As a Christian and a Tyrolese George felt it his duty to protect him from a danger far worse than those which imperilled life and limb, for here the soul's salvation was at stake. So he drew himself up, raised his hand to his cap and said respectfully:

"By your leave, Herr Lieutenant, I will stay."

Gerald frowned and looked at him--it was only one glance, but the young Tyrolese had remembered the threatening flash from the hour he had attempted to obtain an insight into the affair of mingled love and witchcraft, and all inclination for further resistance instantly vanished. As Gerald, without a word, pointed with a quiet, imperious wave of the hand to the door, George, though still far from having conquered his alarm, found it advisable to obey, but once outside he clasped his hands in a hurried prayer.

"Saint George and all the saints aid him! She has got him now--may the Lord have mercy upon him!"

The two who remained behind were alone--they still confronted each other in silence, but Gerald's eyes rested as if spellbound upon the young girl, who had slowly risen and advanced into the circle of light cast by the fire. The ruddy glow made her figure stand out in relief against the dark background like a picture, a picture that certainly did not suit the frame of this small, gloomy room.

Danira's beauty was fully displayed for the first time, now that she wore the costume of the country, whose picturesque cut and coloring seemed to have been created especially for her. The braids of black hair fell unconfined in all their weight and luxuriance, and her whole bearing was free, fetterless and haughty, as though relieved from the burden of a dependence that had oppressed her for years, released from the bonds of the grat.i.tude reason imposed upon her, but against which her heart continually rebelled. It was the daughter of the fallen chief who had already conquered a moment's self-forgetfulness, and now, with all the pride of her blood and lineage, faced the man whom she again regarded as the enemy of her people.

"I believe, Herr von Steinach, that the circ.u.mstances of our parting were too peculiar for us to greet this meeting with pleasure," she said at last. It was the old icy tone, specially intended to efface that one unguarded moment, and it partially accomplished its purpose.

The young officer's manner also grew colder and more formal as he replied:

"Then you must reproach accident, not me, for this interview. I repeat I had no suspicion who lived in this house. Only duty called me here."

"I do not doubt it. We are accustomed to see troops in our homes, though they find only women and children to combat."

"Who are fearlessly left behind because it is well known that we do not attack the defenseless. True, we have the men to deal with only when they a.s.sail us from some safe ambush."

"We are at war," said Danira curtly. "Any advantage is allowable in warfare."

"And who forced this war upon us? We did not seek it, but the enforcement of a law was at stake, a law we could not resign and which is recognized throughout the whole vast empire. Your tribe is the only one that refuses to obey it."

"Because the free sons of the mountains cannot and will not bow to the yoke. You will try in vain to subdue them."

The words had a sharper sting than was necessary, for a dark flush, the token of ill-repressed excitement, had long since crimsoned the young officer's brow, and his answer was cutting in its sharpness.

"We regard military service as an honor, not a yoke. At least it is a duty. Of course the idea of duty does not enter into the unbridled caprice your people call liberty; it must first be taught. But, rely upon it, Fraulein, we shall teach it yet. I may be permitted to suppose that you are informed of the last events of the campaign, and know that the fate of the insurrection is already decided."

Danira, of course, knew this, she had even spoken of it to Marco an hour before, but nothing in the world would have induced her to admit it to this man, so with the courage of despair she answered:

"Do not triumph too soon! Marco Obrevic still holds out, and with him the bravest of our people. They can die, but they will not surrender."

Gerald started at the name; a strangely gloomy, searching glance rested on the young girl.

"Marco Obrevic!" he repeated. "So you know him--very well?"

"He is my brother's friend."

"And owes you his freedom--for the plan of escape was doubtless your work?"

"At least I had a share in it. True, Marco's liberty was purchased at a high price, it cost him his father and our tribe a chief. Joan Obrevic fell by your bullet."

"I did my duty, and besides, the fugitives fired at me first. I will repeat the words you just uttered: we are at war."

Reproach and retort sounded equally bitter and hostile, and the manner of both was as rigid and implacable as if they were really mortal foes, yet their eyes spoke a very different language from that of hate.

Gerald could not avert his gaze from the beautiful, hostile face; he had forgotten everything else, even the summons of his wounded comrade, and only sought the eyes which shunned his, yet as though attracted by some magnetic power, constantly returned to them.

"I do not reproach you for that accident," said Danira, and for the first time her tone sounded more gentle. "But you too have doubtless now recalled the charge you hurled at me then with such scathing fury.

The purpose for which I used my knowledge of the place and circ.u.mstances was only to effect Obrevic's escape. My people called upon me to do it, and summoned me to return to them--they had a right to ask both."

"If you admit the right--certainly. Only it is strange that your kindred left you so long in the home and under the charge of an alien, that they did not inquire about you once during all those years. Not until they needed you did they find the way to reach you, though, according to appearances, it was so easily discovered. Up to that time your relatives had forgotten you and did not know whether you were alive or dead."

The taunt struck home; Danira's haughty head drooped. It was needless to tell her that she had been only a means to an end--she had known it long before. Gerald advanced a step nearer, and his voice also lost its icy tone as he continued:

"No matter, you have made your choice and returned to your home--are you happy?"

"I am free! That is all I ask."

"And how long will you remain so? During our expeditions I have gained an insight into the customs of the country and know the fate to which they condemn women. As soon as you marry, this lot will be yours. Is it possible that a high-spirited girl, with this energetic will and ardent desire for freedom, can endure to be, not the companion, but the slave of a rough, fierce man, who does not even know the name of intellectual needs and will pitilessly trample upon every higher emotion, because he values only the capacity for work she shares with his domestic animals, who daily----"

"Stop--that is not true!" Danira vehemently interrupted, for she felt whom he was describing, though no name was spoken. But the young officer did not allow himself to be checked, and added with marked emphasis:

"It is true, and of this truth you will perish. Deny it as you will, the charm with which your imagination invested your home has vanished, must have vanished at the moment when you beheld the reality, and the chasm which formerly apparently divided you from us, yawned a gigantic abyss on the other side. You can no longer descend to these people with their brutal customs. You are ours; in every thought and feeling you belong to us, but you have all the defiance of your race, which will bleed and die rather than submit to a higher law."

He had spoken with increasing excitement, and Danira no longer tried to interrupt him; these were her own thoughts, her own dread which had just forced themselves upon her with such annihilating power. Word after word fell from his lips as if he had been listening to her; she could no longer deny their truth, nay, did not wish to do so.

She slowly raised her head, but a dark fire was glowing in her eyes.

Gerald could not help thinking again of the tempestuous night illumined by flashes of lightning. His pitiless words had, roused, with the young girl's pride, all her former energy; she drew herself up to her full height.

"Perhaps you are right! Well, then, I am a daughter of my race and can bleed and die--I cannot submit. If my birth and my education brought me into perpetual conflict with myself, I have solved it by returning here, and this decision is to me irrevocable. I cannot have only half my heart here as well as there; I have made my choice, and if it costs me happiness and life, be it so, I will die by it."

There was such unyielding resolution in the words that Gerald did not even attempt a reply. He gazed silently at the young girl, who stood before him so pale and gloomy; then his eyes wandered slowly around the squalid room, with its smoking fire and smoke-blackened walls, and a vague presentiment stole over him that this external and internal conflict could end only with life.

"So I am to part from you as a foe, for I still remain one in your eyes," he said at last. "Danira, have you really no other word of farewell for me?"

An expression of pa.s.sionate grief flashed into the girl's face for one moment, but she quickly repressed the gentler emotion, and the next moment her features revealed nothing but iron harshness and cold aversion.

"I fear, Herr von Steinach, that I have already detained you too long from your 'duty.' I must remind you of it, apparently. You have doubtless come to occupy the village with your men. We have no arms against superior numbers; the house is open!"

Gerald stepped back. The sharp admonition showed him that any attempt at conciliation would be vain, and he, too, could be proud to sternness.

"You are mistaken, Fraulein," he replied. "I do not come on military duty. I am in search of a wounded comrade here in the hamlet, whom I expected to find in this house. At any rate, I beg you to give me news of him."

"A wounded officer? There is some misunderstanding. No Austrian is here."

"But our troops occupied the village this morning. We have positive news of that."

"Yes, but in less than an hour they left it and marched on."

"And the wounded man?"