ow to shade her watchful eyes from the dazzling sunlight, and
set her beautifully arched foot on a stone near one of the trees in order
to gain a better view, he thought of the story of the weaver which he had
just heard.

Though the stillness of the hot noontide was interrupted by many sounds,
it exerted a bewitching influence over him.

Ledscha seemed like the embodiment of some great danger, and when she
lowered one arm and raised the other to protect herself again from the
radiance of the noonday sun, he started; for through the brain of the
usually fearless man darted the thought that now the nimble spider-legs
were moving to draw him toward her, entwine him, and suck his heart's
blood.

The illusion lasted only a few brief moments, but when it vanished and
the girl had regained the figure of an unusually slender, veiled Biamite
woman, he shook his head with a sigh of relief, for never had such a
vision appeared to him in broad noonday and while awake, and it must have
been sent to warn him and his master against this uncanny maiden.

It positively announced some approaching misfortune which proceeded from
this beautiful creature.

The Biamite now advanced hesitatingly toward Hermon and Daphne, who were
still a considerable distance from her. But Bias had also quitted his
post of observation, and after she had taken a few steps forward, barred
her way.

With a curt "Come," he took her hand, whispering, "Hermon is joyously
expecting your visit."

Ledscha's veil concealed her mouth, but the expression of her eyes made
him think that it curled scornfully.

Yet she silently followed him.

At first he led her by the hand, but on the way he saw at the edge of her
upper veil the thick, dark eyebrows which met each other, and her fingers
seemed to him so strangely cold and tapering that a shudder ran through
his frame and he released them.

Ledscha scarcely seemed to notice it, and, with bowed head, walked beside
him through the side entrance to the door of Hermon's studio.

It was a disappointment to her to find it locked, but Bias did not heed
her angry complaint, and led her into the artist's sitting room,
requesting her to wait for his master there.

Then he hurried to the steps, and by a significant sign informed the
sculptor that something important required his attention.

Hermon understood him, and Bias soon had an opportunity to tell the
artist who it was that desired to speak to him and where he h