how closely the love and hate
were united in his breast.

"And you say this to the author of Arivana?" he exclaimed with
bitterness. "My drama has been called the ode to love, and--"

"Then those who so named it have been deceived by the flimsy veil of
oriental legend in which your figures are enveloped, they have seen the
Eastern priest with the woman he loves succumb to an iron, inhuman law.
Perhaps you are a great poet, perhaps you will astonish the world with
your fame, but to me you are something else, for the passion and fiery
language of 'Arivana' have taught me something of its creator; of the
man who believes in nothing, to whom nothing in the world is holy,
neither duty nor pledge, neither manly honor nor womanly virtue; who
would drag the highest in the dust for the sport of his passion. I yet
believe in duty and honor, believe in myself, and with this belief I bid
defiance to the fate which you so triumphantly prophesy will enthrall
me. It can drive me to death--but never into your arms."

She stood opposite him, neither trembling nor irresolute. All her secret
struggles were over, and with each word one more link of the chain was
loosened.

Her eyes met his, full and free; she feared their dark, baneful glance
no longer--that mysterious power was broken; she felt it and breathed
deeply, like one whose hour of deliverance had come.

Again there was a flash of lightning, noiseless, not followed by any
thunder crash, but it seemed to open the heavens to their very depths.
In the palpitating light one could see fantastic cloud pictures, forms
which seemed to struggle and battle with one another as if borne by
force before the storm, and yet the cloud-mountain stood immovable on
the far horizon; and just as immovable stood the man upon whose dark
countenance the lightning flash revealed a deep pallor.

His eyes had not turned from the young wife's face, but the wild glow
within them was extinguished, and his voice had a strange sound as he
said:

"And this is the sentence for which I begged. I am then, in your eyes
nothing more than a--reprobate?"

"A lost man, perhaps--you have forced me to this avowal."

Hartmut stepped slowly back a few steps.

"Lost," he repeated in bitter tone. "That is probably what you think.
You may be at rest, my dear madam. I will never approach you again; one
has no desire to hear such words a second time. You stand so proud and
firm upon your watch tower of virtue and jud