tess Strahni.

It was in these moods of adulation and self-revelation that Marishka
found him most difficult. But she managed to keep him at arm's length by
the mere insistence of her spirituality which accepted his friendship
upon its face value, telling him that she forgave the past, and vaguely
suggesting hope for the future. With that he had to be content, though
at times he was dangerously near rebellion. She promised him many things
but denied him her lips, hoping day by day for the rescue which came
not, and praying night after night that the God who watched over her
would forgive her for her duplicity and for the hatred of him that was
in her heart.

But there came a day when the walks beyond the causeway ceased, and from
the window of her bedroom she learned the reason. Far, far below her in
the valley along the road which wound through the Pass, she saw the
figures of marching men. Austrian soldiers! What did their presence
mean? They were going toward the other end of the pass--thousands of
them. Had the Russians crossed Galicia? That night there were no lights
in the side of the castle toward the gorge save the candle in her room,
which was screened by heavy hangings. And when at dinner she questioned
Goritz he gave her the briefest of replies. The Cossacks were coming?
Perhaps, but they would not take Dukla Pass. He warned her not to show
her figure at the castle windows or above the wall of the rampart, and
she obeyed.

For several days Goritz disappeared, and she gained a breathing space to
think over her position. She ventured out many times into the courtyard
in the hope of finding an opportunity to elude her guard, but each time
she approached the drawbridge she saw the chauffeur Karl seated in the
shadow of the wall, smoking his pipe. And so she knew that any attempt
to pass him would be impossible.

At the end of the fourth day, Captain Goritz joined her at the supper
table. He had now discarded his Austrian uniform and wore a rough suit
of working clothes, similar to the peasant costume which Ena's husband
wore. He greeted her gladly, but she asked him no questions as to his
absence, upon her guard as she always was against the unknown quality in
the man, which held her in constant anxiety. But after he had eaten, the
cloud which had hung over him seemed to pass, and he leaned forward,
smiling at her across the table.

"You have been obedient?" he asked.

"What else is left for me?" she smile