ion--nay almost the conviction--that it was herself, indeed,
who had aroused that "great love" in Orion's heart gave her no rest. If
it were she? There, under her hand was the instrument of revenge on the
miscreant; she could make him taste of all the bitterness he had brewed
for her aching spirit. But which of them would the punishment hurt most
sorely: him or herself? Had not the little girl's confidences revealed
a world of rapture to her and her longing heart? No, no. It would be too
humiliating to allow the same hand that had smitten her so ruthlessly to
uplift her to heaven; it would be treason against herself.

Slumber overtook her in the midst of these conflicting feelings and
thoughts, and towards morning she had a dream which, even by daylight,
haunted her and made her shudder.

She saw Orion coming towards her, as pale as death, robed in mourning,
pacing slowly on a coal-black horse; she had not the strength to fly,
and without speaking to her or looking at her, he lifted her high in the
air like a child, and placed her in front of him on the horse. She put
forth all her strength to get free and dismount, but he clasped her with
both arms like iron clamps and quelled her efforts. Life itself would
not have seemed too great a price for escape from this constraint; but,
the more wildly she fought, the more closely she was held by the silent
and pitiless horseman. At their feet flowed the swirling river, but
Orion did not seem to notice it, and without moving his lips, he coolly
guided the steed towards the water. Beside herself now with horror and
dread, she implored him to turn away; but he did not heed her, and went
on unmoved into the midst of the stream. Her terror increased to an
agonizing pitch as the horse bore her deeper and deeper into the water;
of her own free will she threw her arms round the rider's neck; his
paleness vanished, his cheeks gained a ruddy hue, his lips sought hers
in a kiss; and, in the midst of the very anguish of death, she felt a
thrill of rapture that she had never known before. She could have gone
on thus for ever, even to destruction; and, in fact, they were still
sinking--she felt the water rising breast high, but she cared not. Not
a word had either of them spoken. Suddenly she felt urged to break the
silence, and as if she could not help it she asked: "Am I the other?" At
this the waves surged down on them from all sides; a whirlpool dragged
away the horse, spinning him roun