he still pervading night. They had
arrived, it seemed, at the shore of the lake, but nothing was to be
seen of its waters.

A dismal grey mist lay, impenetrable as the future, before
Amalaswintha's eyes. Of the villa, even of the island, nothing could be
seen.

On the right side of the road stood a low fisher-hut, half-buried in
the tall, thick reeds, which bent their heads to the soughing of the
morning wind. Singular! they seemed to warn and beckon her away from
the hidden lake behind them.

Dolios had gone into the hut. He now returned and lifted the Princess
out of the carriage. Silently he led her through the damp meadow to the
reeds. Among them lay a small boat, which seemed rather to float on the
mist than on the water.

At the rudder sat an old man in a grey and ragged mantle; his long
white hair hung dishevelled about his face. He seemed to sit dreaming
with closed eyes, which he did not even open when the Princess entered
the rocking boat and placed herself in the middle upon a camp-stool.

Dolios entered the boat after her, and took the two oars; the slaves
remained behind with the carriage.

"Dolios!" cried Amalaswintha anxiously, "it is very dark. Can the old
man steer in this fog, and no light on either shore?"

"A light would be of no use, Queen. He is blind."

"Blind!" cried the terrified woman. "Let me land! Put back!"

"I have guided the boat for twenty years," said the aged ferryman; "no
seeing man knows the way as well as I."

"Were you born blind then?"

"No. Theodoric the Amelung caused me to be blinded, believing that
Alaric, the brother of Thulun, had hired me to murder him. I am a
servant of the Balthes, and a follower of Alaric, but I was innocent;
and so was my master, the banished Alaric. A curse upon the Amelungs!"
he cried with an angry pull at the rudder.

"Silence, old man!" said Dolios.

"Why should I not say to-day what I have said at every oar-stroke for
twenty years? It is the way I beat time. A curse upon the Amelungs!"

The Princess looked with horror at the old man, who, in fact, steered
the boat with complete security, and as straight as an arrow.

His wide mantle and dishevelled hair waved in the wind; all around was
fog and silence; only the regular beat of the oars could be heard.
Empty air and grey mist enveloped the slight boat.

It seemed to Amalaswintha as if Charon was rowing her over the Styx to
the grey realm of shades.

Shivering, she drew her mant