elf!"

"You have nothing to fear from me," replied the Dacian, proudly; "I
fight for liberty alone, and you may rest as securely within my
threshold as on the steps of the altar. When I am absent you need have
no anxiety, for these walls are impregnable, and if anyone should dare
offend you by the slightest look, that moment shall be the last of his
mortal career. And when I am at home you have nothing to fear, for
woman's image never dwelt within my heart. Accept my poor couch, and
may your rest be sweet!--Imre Bardy slept on it last night."

"Imre!" exclaimed the starting girl. "You have seen him, then?--oh!
where is he!"

The Decurio hesitated. "He should not have delayed so long," he
murmured, pressing his hand against his brow; "all would have been
otherwise."

"Oh! let me go to him; if you know where he is."

"I do not know, but I am certain he will come here if he is
alive--indeed he must come."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because he will seek you."

"Did he then speak--before you?"

"As he lay wounded on that couch, he pronounced your name in his
dreams. Are you not that Jolanka Bardy whom they call 'The Angel'? I
knew you by your golden locks."

The young girl cast down her eyes. "Then you think he will come?" she
said in a low voice. "And my relations?"

"He will come as soon as possible; and now you must take some food and
rest. Do not think about your relations now; they are all in a safe
place--nobody can hurt them more."

The Decurio brought some refreshment, laid a small prayer-book on the
pillow, and left the orphan by herself.

The poor girl opened the prayer-book, and her tears fell like
rain-drops on the blessed page; but, overcome by the fatigue and
terror she had undergone, her head ere long sank gently back, and she
slept calmly and sweetly the sleep of exhausted innocence.

As evening closed, the Decurio returned, and softly approaching the
bed, looked long and earnestly at the fair sleeper's face, until two
large tears stood unconsciously in his eyes.

The Roumin hastily brushed away the unwonted moisture, and as if
afraid of the feeling which had stolen into his breast, he hastened
from the room, and laid himself upon his woolen rug before the open
door.

The deserted castle still burned on, shedding a ghastly light on the
surrounding landscape, while the deepest silence reigned around, only
broken now and then by an expiring groan, or the hoarse song of a
drunken reveler.