ad to
lay all the blame on you. But now that I have talked to you I. . . . Look,
do you see that light? It is in her sitting-room."

And, before Paula could prevent her, she ran to the hedge and slipped
through the gap as nimbly as a weasel.

Paula looked after her with mingled feelings, and then went back to the
house, and to bed. Katharina's story kept her awake for a long time, and
the suspicion--nay almost the conviction--that it was herself, indeed,
who had aroused that "great love" in Orion's heart gave her no rest. If
it were she? There, under her hand was the instrument of revenge on the
miscreant; she could make him taste of all the bitterness he had brewed
for her aching spirit. But which of them would the punishment hurt most
sorely: him or herself? Had not the little girl's confidences revealed a
world of rapture to her and her longing heart? No, no. It would be too
humiliating to allow the same hand that had smitten her so ruthlessly to
uplift her to heaven; it would be treason against herself.

Slumber overtook her in the midst of these conflicting feelings and
thoughts, and towards morning she had a dream which, even by daylight,
haunted her and made her shudder.

She saw Orion coming towards her, as pale as death, robed in mourning,
pacing slowly on a coal-black horse; she had not the strength to fly, and
without speaking to her or looking at her, he lifted her high in the air
like a child, and placed her in front of him on the horse. She put forth
all her strength to get free and dismount, but he clasped her with both
arms like iron clamps and quelled her efforts. Life itself would not have
seemed too great a price for escape from this constraint; but, the more
wildly she fought, the more closely she was held by the silent and
pitiless horseman. At their feet flowed the swirling river, but Orion did
not seem to notice it, and without moving his lips, he coolly guided the
steed towards the water. Beside herself now with horror and dread, she
implored him to turn away; but he did not heed her, and went on unmoved
into the midst of the stream. Her terror increased to an agonizing pitch
as the horse bore her deeper and deeper into the water; of her own free
will she threw her arms round the rider's neck; his paleness vanished,
his cheeks gained a ruddy hue, his lips sought hers in a kiss; and, in
the midst of the very anguish of death, she felt a thrill of rapture that
she had never known before. She cou