pack
them up in the baskets and begone, for the sun sets and the moon rises
within the half of an hour. I would not be here in the dark for ten
pieces of pure gold."

"Then go swiftly, Palka," I said, "for we bide here this night."

"Are you mad?" she asked.

"Not at all," I answered. "A wise man once told me that if one who is
blind can but come face to face with a spirit, he sees it and thereby
regains his sight. If you would know the truth, that is why I have
wandered so far from my own country to find some land where ghosts may
be met."

"Now I am sure that you are mad," exclaimed Palka. "Come, Hilda, and
leave this fool to make trial of his cure for blindness."

"Nay," answered Martina, "I must stay with my uncle, although I am very
much afraid. If I did not, he would beat me afterwards."

"Beat you! Hodur beat a woman! Oh! you are both mad. Or perhaps you are
ghosts also. I have thought it once or twice, who at least am sure that
you are other than you seem. Holy Jesus! this place grows dark, and
I tell you it is full of dead kings. May the Saints guard you; at
the least, you'll keep high company at your death. Farewell; whate'er
befalls, blame me not who warned you," and she departed at a run, the
empty vessels rattling on her back and the dog yapping behind her.

When she had gone the silence grew deep.

"Now, Martina," I whispered, "find some place where we may hide whence
you can see this Table of Offerings."

She led me to where a fallen rock lay within a few paces, and behind it
we sat ourselves down in such a position that Martina could watch the
Table of Offerings by the light of the moon.

Here we waited for a long while; it may have been two hours, or three,
or four. At least I knew that, although I could see nothing, the
solemnity of that place sank into my soul. I felt as though the dead
were moving about me in the silence. I think it was the same with
Martina, for although the night was very hot in that stifling, airless
valley, she shivered at my side. At last I felt her start and heard her
whisper:

"I see a figure. It creeps from the shadow of the cliff towards the
Table of Offerings."

"What is it like?" I asked.

"It is a woman's figure draped in white cloths; she looks about her; she
takes up the offerings and places them in a basket she carries. It is
a woman--no ghost--for she drinks from one of the jars. Oh! now the
moonlight shines upon her face; it is _that of Heliodore!_"