ers, but saving this sign, there was no trace of the recent storm,
nor the least indication of passion. If she had been acting a part
throughout before an audience, she would have seemed less indifferent
when the curtain fell. The Wanderer, having little cause to trust her,
found it hard to believe that she had not been counterfeiting. It seemed
impossible that she should be the same woman who but a moment earlier
had been dragging herself at his feet, in wild tears and wilder
protestations of her love.

"If you are sufficiently rested," he said with a touch of sarcasm which
he could not restrain, "I would suggest that we do not wait any longer
here."

She turned and faced him, and he saw now how very white she was.

"So you think that even now I have been deceiving you? That is what you
think. I see it in your face."

Before he could prevent her she had opened the door wide again and was
advancing calmly into the conservatory.

"Israel Kafka!" she cried in loud clear tones. "I am here--I am
waiting--come!"

The Wanderer ran forward. He caught sight in the distance of a pair of
fiery eyes and of something long and thin and sharp-gleaming under the
soft lamps. He knew then that all was deadly earnest. Swift as thought
he caught Unorna and bore her from the hall, locking the door again and
setting his broad shoulders against it, as he put her down. The daring
act she had done appealed to him, in spite of himself.

"I beg your pardon," he said almost deferentially. "I misjudged you."

"It is that," she answered. "Either I will be with you or I will die,
by his hand, by yours, by my own--it will matter little when it is done.
You need not lean against the door. It is very strong. Your furs are
hanging there, and here are mine. Let us be going."

Quietly, as though nothing unusual had happened, they descended the
stairs together. The porter came forward with all due ceremony, to open
the shut door. Unorna told him that if Keyork Arabian came while she was
out, he was to be shown directly into the conservatory. A moment later
she and her companion were standing together in the small irregular
square before the Clementinum.

"Where will you go?" asked the Wanderer.

"With you," she answered, laying her hand upon his arm and looking
into his face as though waiting to see what direction he would choose.
"Unless you send me back to him," she added, glancing quickly at the
house and making as though she would withdraw