urned, and the
eyes met Unorna's, and Unorna knew that it was Beatrice.

There she stood, between them, motionless as a statue, impalpable as
air, but real as life itself. The vision, if it was a vision, lasted
fully a minute. Never, to the day of her death, was Unorna to forget
that face, with its deathlike purity of outline, with its unspeakable
nobility of feature.

It vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. A low broken sound of pain
escaped from the Wanderer's lips, and with his arms extended he fell
forwards. The strong woman caught him and he sank to the ground gently,
in her arms, his head supported upon her shoulder, as she kneeled under
the heavy weight.

There was a sound of quick footsteps on the frozen snow. A Bohemian
watchman, alarmed by the loud cry, was running to the spot.

"What has happened?" he asked, bending down to examine the couple.

"My friend has fainted," said Unorna calmly. "He is subject to it. You
must help me to get him home."

"Is it far?" asked the man.

"To the House of the Black Mother of God."

CHAPTER IX

The principal room of Keyork Arabian's dwelling was in every way
characteristic of the man. In the extraordinary confusion which at first
disturbed a visitor's judgment, some time was needed to discover the
architectural bounds of the place. The vaulted roof was indeed apparent,
as well as small portions of the wooden flooring. Several windows, which
might have been large had they filled the arched embrasures in which
they were set, admitted the daylight when there was enough of it in
Prague to serve the purpose of illumination. So far as could be seen
from the street, they were commonplace windows without shutters and with
double casements against the cold, but from within it was apparent that
the tall arches in the thick walls had been filled in with a thinner
masonry in which the modern frames were set. So far as it was possible
to see, the room had but two doors; the one, masked by a heavy curtain
made of a Persian carpet, opened directly upon the staircase of the
house; the other, exactly opposite, gave access to the inner apartments.
On account of its convenient size, however, the sage had selected for
his principal abiding place this first chamber, which was almost large
enough to be called a hall, and here he had deposited the extraordinary
and heterogeneous collection of objects, or, more property speaking, of
remains, upon the study of which he spent a gre