not consuming; his whole former life went out, the leaf shone fiery and
pure for Linda's hand. He gazed into her face lovingly and serenely as a
sun-god in morning redness, and pressed her hands. "Give them to me for
ever!" said he earnestly.

She inclined modestly her beautiful head upon his breast, but
immediately raised it again, with its large, moist eyes, and said
hurriedly, "Go now! Early to-morrow come, Albano! Adio! Adio!"

Count Gaspard bestowed his paternal consent on the union, and the lovers
returned separately to Hohenfliess. A difference arose; Albano was still
bent on warring for France, Linda sought to dissuade him. They
quarrelled, and parted in anger.

On the day after the quarrel Linda received a letter in Albano's
handwriting begging forgiveness, and asking for a meeting in the gardens
of Lilar. She went there at the appointed evening hour, although, owing
to the night-blindness from which, like many Spaniards, she often
suffered, she could not see her lover. But she kissed him, and heard his
burning words of love.

But Albano had not written, and had not entered Lilar. Roquairol's old
passion for Linda was undiminished; his rage at Albano was beyond
bounds. He could mimic Albano's writing and voice; he knew of Linda's
night-blindness. On the next night, in the presence of Albano and Linda,
he slew himself with his own hand.

The death of Roquairol lay like a blight between the lovers. They parted
for ever.

_III.--Idoine_

"War!" This word alone gave Albano peace. He made himself ready for a
journey to France, and ere he set forth he sought out the little spot of
earth, beneath a linden-tree, where reposed the gentle Liana, the
friendly, lovely angel of peace.

Suddenly, with a shudder, he beheld the white form of Liana herself
leaning against the linden. He believed some dream had drawn down the
airy image from heaven, and he expected to see it pass away. It
lingered, though quiet and mute. Kneeling down, he exclaimed,
"Apparition, comest thou from God? Art thou Liana?"

Quickly the white form looked round, and saw the youth. She rose slowly,
and said, "My name is Idoine. I am innocent of the cruel deception, most
unhappy youth." Then he covered his eyes, from a sudden, sharp pang at
the return of the cold, heavy reality. Thereupon he looked at her again,
and his whole being trembled at her glorified resemblance to the
departed--prouder and taller her stature, paler her complexion,