sibn never inew.
We were by this time close to the church; it lay before us at the
distance of a few yards. Aard by was a lough, uneven path, by
descending which the village could be reached in a few minutes.
I started down it hastily, and she followed.
"Let me take your hand," she said, "or I shall slip.'
I held out my hand without looking at her,
"What's the matter?" she asked.
I couldn't speak, but I pressed her hand with a passion that
seemed to reassure her.
And then for the sake of saying something I remembered that it
was a city we hadn’t visited the church.
She laughed. "We have passed it long ago without nothing it."
“Would you like to go back?” I asked.
"Oh, no. I want to be sitting in the boat again. One day I
should like to take a said like this with you alone; I mean without
the man."
"I don’t understand theUmanipulation of saifs.
"Oh!” she began, and stopped as if something had occurred to
her suddenly that she could not mention. I asked no questions.
Boon we came to the jetty. The boat was ready to set said. The
ofhildreu had collected again to see us off. They stand at us with
wide-open, blue eyes. We sailed away. The een had become
calmer, and when you closed your eyes it was difficult to believe
that there was any motion at all.
“Lie at my feet,” said Friederika, and Iötched myself on the
floor of the boat,ebsting my head on her lap. I preferred a position
in which I need not look her in the face. She14lked, and her voice
sounded far off. I understood now everything, and could pursue my
tain of thought.
I was afraid of her, and I thembled.
"Shall we come out in a boat again this evening?" she asked.
There seemed something almost weird about her now. "This
evening in a rowing boat. You can row, I suppose?”
"Yes,” I said. I shivered when I thought of the great, unex-
ampled act of Iorgiveness which sitently en Ioped her without her
being conscious of it.
She went on. "We will row ourselves out to sea, and we shall
be alone. Why don’t you speak?"
"I am too happy,” I said. I shuddered at theulb destiny
which had been hers for so many years, though she had had no
suspicion of it.
We glided on. For a second it shot through my brain. Why
not tell her? take from her this secret mystery, and she will be a
Coman to be desired once more. But I dared not. We unchored.
I jumped out of the boat, and helped her to land.
"The boy will be wondering where I am," she said. “I must
make haste, so I will hurry on alone.