OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. [DAS HAIDEPRINZESSCHEN.] BY E. MARLITT, Author of "Countess Gisela," "In the Counselor's House," "In the Schilling scourt," "Gold Elsie," "Lady with the Rubies" "Old Mam'seUe's Secret," "The Second Wife," etc. EDITION. A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 52-58 DUANE STREET, XEW YORK. THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. i. THE tiny stream as it flows through the silent moor how like is it to a solitary traveler! Its rippling wavei know nothing of the fierce joy with which more stormy waters rush toward a valley, but dance gayly over the smooth stones and pebbles, which offer no resistance, be- tween low banks of never-ending alder trees and willows. On either side the boughs have met and intertwined, till even the sky above can scarcely penetrate and discover this little stream, which like a vein courses with exuberant; life throughout this despised country. Even so, on a larger scale, has many a false tongue misrepresented in the world at large these extensive plains of Northern Germany. Friends, be persuaded just for once to pay a summer visit to the haide.* It does not indeed rear its tall form toward the sky; the glowing diadem of the Alps or a crown of rhododendrons you will seek in vain ; no crest of stone, as in the Nieder- gebirges, or broad sparkling stream circling her bosom like a cold steel chain will you find there; but the heather blooms, and with its bell-shaped blossoms of lilac and red casts a royal mantle of brilliant hues studded with myriads of golden bees over the soft undulations of the land. Far in the distance extends the sandy plain from which the haide vegetation draws the scanty nourishment it re- quires; and the long dark line standing out against the horizon, in which the plain suddenly terminates, is a forest, a dense majestic mass of foliage such as you will rarely see equaled. A traveler might pass whole hours vvan- *Moor. 2131249 2 THE PRINCES8 OF THE MOOR. dering amid these stately columns which rear their heads to heaven; far above, in the blue ether, larks and thrushes tune their merry lay,while the timid deer gaze shyly from the neighboring thicket; and when the wanderer at last should reach the boundaries of the forest and emerge into the tamer groves of fir, his foot would linger, all reluctant to crush beneath it the wild berries thickly strewn on every side and adorning the sloping ground with rich hues of blue, black, and scarlet. In the valley opposite soft green meadows and golden corn-fields would meet his view; he would see the little village nestling in the midst, its old-fashioned dwellings clustered around the tiled church-tower; and when he listened to the sounds of life and activity and heard the lowing of the splendid cattle echoing through the air, the recollection of the "bleak, God-forgotten waste of sand [desert]" described by the guide-books would doubtless bring a smile to his lips. I do not mean to deny that the little stream with whose description my story commences winds its quiet way for many a mile through barren desert soil, running parallel indeed with the forest boundary, but long before it takes a turn in its direction. Throughout its gentle course, however, it washes the soft banks away, and in one spot has succeeded in forming a miniature lake wherein to rest and in whose clear waters it is hard to tell where the sky and that which mirrors it begin and end, so transparent are its depths, so white the pebbles, and so motionless lie the foxtails yonder. The little circle has forced asunder the alders, and a birch struggling to the light has made a step forward and stands like an innocent legendary child from whose locks the summer air keeps incessantly showering down silver coins. It was the latter end of June. In the very center of this basin stood two bare, brown feet, belonging to a maiden who was carefully holding up her black woolen petticoat with two brown hands to match the feet, while she stood bending forward with a look of eager curiosity. Small, a white kerchief covering her shoulders, and a young sunburnt face the reflection the water threw up was minute and insignificant enough. Utterly indifferent, however, was it to the eyes gazing so earnestly downward as to whether the owner's face be- THE PRINCESS OF TSJS MOOR. 3 longed to the Grecian or Teutonic type. Here, in the loneliest quarter of the moor, no standard of female beauty existed and no comparisons were instituted; but the great charm of the water-mirror lay in the fact that on its pure surface all things, howeve^ common, under- went a metamorphosis, a fairy transformation. In the upper world the soft haide wind was playing merrily amid the girl's short locks and blowing them about her neck and forehead; but here below, in those cool depths, they assumed the aspect of raven's wings, the little necklace of red beads looking like dark drops of blood, while the coarse white handkerchief was transformed into a silken texture and looked just like r, snow-white water-lily float- ing on the tiny lake. It was all exactly like one of the loveliest of old-fashioned fairy tales. The deep blue sky formed a canopy over the breach in the copse, giving a cold steel-like hue to the water below and a background to the girl's reflection. Suddenly glow- ing shadows began to steal over the smooth lake, and ex- traordinary as it seemed, they certainly came from the hanging locks of the curly head ; they chased each other hither and thither, their color ever deepening in intensity till it seemed as if the whole world were bathed in purple light. The deep shadows nestling amid the brushwood alone seemed to grow black as midnight, and the solitary twigs which projected from them looked like black stalac- tites reflected in a sea of fire another turn of the magi- cian's wand in our fairy tale. But this caused a terrible shock. The girl's own shadow assumed as she bent for- ward the aspect of another, which from the depths beneath looked up with two large awful eyes at her. The brown feet belonged to no heroine, and with one wild scream she sprang up the bank. "What an absurd fright! The evening sky was one sheet of crimson and gold. A bright fleecy cloud floating over the lake was the cause of the ghostly apparition and the eyes? was such a coward ever before seen, such a baby to be fright- ened at one's own eyes? I was ashamed even of myself, but still more at the presence of my two best friends, who had been silent spectators. My pretty heifer was not much disconcerted. She was the least intelligent of the two the bonniest black cow 4 THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. that had ever ranged the haide plains. There she stood browsing beneath the birch trees and luxuriating in a little patch of juicv grass which the moisture of the river banks had sweetened. She raised her small pretty head, gazed at me for a moment in mute surprise, and then returned to her occupation with un mistakable relish. Spitz, on the contrary, who had settled himself for a doze under the bushes, took the matter seriously. He gave a wild bound into the air, and attacking the unof- fending water, barked furiously, as though some frightful enemy were at my heels. It was too ridiculous, and laughing heartily I jumped back into the water and seconded his efforts by shivering the deceitful mirror to a thousand atoms. There was, however, a third witness to this affair, whom neither Spitz nor I had remarked. "What is my little princess doing here?" he inquired in that kind of muffled, indistinct tone of voice indicative of inseparable companionship with a pipe in the speaker's mouth. "Oh, it's you, Heinz." I am not ashamed of him, because he is well known to be afraid of his own shadow, difficult as it is to credit the fact when looking at his stalwart form. There he stood, Heinz the bee-keeper, shod in such gear that it seemed as if the earth might sink beneath his tread, his tall form towering toward the sky, while its breadth formed a barrier like a granite wall between me and the view across the haide. Yet at the first white object that meets him in the dusky twilight this giant will take to his heels, and his cowardice supplies me with endless amusement. I tell him long stones of horrors till I grow quite frightened myself and am afraid of every dark corner. "I am treading down a pair of eyes, Heinz," I ex- claimed, giving another stamp, so that the water splashed all over his faded old coat. "Look, am I not right?" "Not at all not in daylight." "Nonsense! What difference does it make to the water-sprite whether it is day or night if she is angry?" I watched the half-nervous, half-incredulous glance he cast at the water with veritable delight. "Wliat! you don't believe it, Heinz? I only wish she had given you inch a look, so dreadful." THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. 5 This fairy conquered him. Taking the pipe from his month and pointing it playfully at me, he said, with a smile of mingled triumph and distrust: "Didn't I always tell you so, eh? But I won't do it again, not a bit of me heaps of the things may lie there, but I won't touch one of them, not I." So here I had raised a nice piece of business with my ' love of jesting. The little stream, the tiny traveler which wandered through the haide, was richer far than many a proud river which flows past palaces and amid the busy haunts of men. Pearls lay hidden within its recesses, few indeed in quan- tity and not brilliant enough for a king's diadem, but what did I know of all that? I liked the small round shining things which lay so bright and pretty in the palm of my hand. Many a time had I spent whole hours wad- ing through the water seeking for oysters, and then I had always brought them to Heinz, who understood the art of opening them a secret he would confide to no one else. Now he was going to renounce the service utterly and con- clusively, because he was firmly convinced that the water- sprite would take the law of us as thieves! "Get away, Heinz,'* I said in a melancholy tone. "It was only a stupid joke; don't believe such nonsense." And bending over the water, which had nearly settled again, I said: "Look here for yourself. What is looking at you? Nothing, nothing whatever but my own two dreadful eyes. Why are they so unnaturally large, Heinz? Neither Fraulein Streit's eyes nor yet Use's would have looked half so terrible." "No, Use's eyes wouldn't either," replied Heinz, "but her eyes are sharp, princess, very sharp." On his first joining me he had laid his huge hand upon my shoulder quite good-naturedly (for Heinz could not be angry), but after giving utterance to the above sage re- mark he ran it through his wisp of hair, which stood up like thin yellow stubble about his temples. It absolutely bristled in the warm evening sunshine. After that he blew forth a cloud of tobacco-smoke, which speedily dispersed a swarm of midges playing round. At home, Use "of the sharp eyes" always maintained that tobacco was a disgusting weed. I alone endured it, and should I live to be a hundred, the evil-reputed smell will 6 THE PRINCE8S OF THE MOOR. always send me back in memory to the warm nook in the chimney corner, where, curled up on the wooden bench by Heinz' side, I enjoyed the delicious sense of his pro- tecting care, while without the snow-storm raged over the plains and hail came pelting like stones hurled against the window-panes. Just as Mieke came up to pluck the blades of grass which Heinz had trodden under foot I sprang up the bank. "Ei," said he, laughing, "how grand she looks!" "Oh, no laughing at that, if you please," I replied in a dignified manner. Mieke was indeed splendidly adorned. Between her horns hung a garland of birch leaves and marigolds, which became her as though she had been born with it; a chain made of the thick hollow stalks of the dandelion hung round her neck, and to the very end of her tail was at- tached a bouquet of the haide flowers, which looked so comical when Mieke lashed it about to brush off the gnats. "She has quite a festive air, hasn't she?" said I; "but you don't know the reason! Now, just think a moment, Heinz, and try to guess. Mieke is dressed up and a cake is baking at the Dierkhof, so now what is it all about?" But I had just hit on Heinz' weak point; guessing was not his forte, and he stood before me as helpless as a child of two years old. "Ah, you cunning fellow," I continued, laughing, "you only want to escape congratulating me; but that won't succeed. Dear old Heinz, this is my birthday." An expression of joy and emotion passed over the broad, kind face at this discovery, and stretching out his disen- gaged hand, in which I laid mine lovingly, he inauired : "And how old is my little princess?" thus avoiding the expected congratulations. I laughed and said: "You don't know that either. Well, listen: what comes after sixteen?" "Sixteen what seventeen? It can't be true ! Such a little thing! No, it can't be true," he protested, holding up his hands. This incredulity irritated me; but, after all, my old friend was not far astray. He who had all his life long watched how the pines stretched upward to heaven had Been me for the last three years get no higher than just THE PEINCE8B OF THE MOOR. 7 to where I could hear his strong heart beat; not one inch had I increased all that time. It was too true, I was and I must remain all my days a mere child in appearance, and that, according to Heinz' opinion, would prevent my ever growing older! For all that I gave him a good scold- ing, but this time he warded it off, in quite a politic man- ner changing the subject. Instead of giving me any answer, he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder and said: "There's an extra birthday celebration going on up there, princess they are digging up the old king.'* At one bound I was on my feet. The crimson glow of the evening sky was so dazzlingly brilliant that I was forced to shade my eyes with my hand. Yonder, behind the line of the forest, the rays were, as it were, playing through thin mists and vapors, while nearer the ancient giants of the past formed a girdle round the wide-stretching moor, their tall spear-like summits stand- ing out against the sky. The heath was not yet in blossom, and the ground pre- sented one broad sheet of green-brown vegetation, flat as a table save where in one peculiar spot it swelled suddenly into five gigantic mounds, one enormous one and four smaller. The popular tradition was that these mounds contained the remains of giants who in the days of their flesh had made the earth quake beneath their tread and played at marbles with huge blocks of stone. Juniper trees grew on the top of the highest hill, and on its side the golden broom blossomed. Whether some human hand had planted the solitary old fir tree or a bird carried the seed thither, none could tell. At all events, there it stood sideways, on the edge of the hill, thinly clad, tossed by the wild wind and stunted in its growth by the weight of winter snows; yet standing erect, proud and defiant, the one solitary tree in the midst of the vast plain, bat- tling for its existence against every storm that blew. Many a time I had said to Heinz as we sat on the hill together in my childhood : "The old king must be buried here, for there is a tree on this hill and yellow blossoms, and there are none on the others." I was convinced that where the old tree stood there lay the king's powerful head, with its golden band round the 8 THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. forehead and the long, long white beard that fell over the purple mantle covering his limbs. This buried secret was Hidden in the deepest solitude, but the birds that came from the adjacent wood to rest amid the brushwood and flutter through the broom and heather, the blue butterflies and humming bees these all shared it. Many a time did I lie, with my hands under my head, scarcely daring jto draw breath, watching the ants as they ran in and out /of their holes. They doubtless were wiser than we were and knew all about it; they had perhaps run over the purple mantle. How I envied them and longed to discover those hidden marvels. Up to this moment the great mound had been my gar- den, my wood, my own undisputed property. My home, the Dierkhof, stood quite alone upon the moor. An infrequented road, which connected it with the outer world, lay through the wood, but far away from the fairy hillocks never, that I could remember, had a stranger set foot within their kingdom and now all of a sudden yonder stood a group of unknown people digging up huge clods of earth from these self-same mounds. I watched the ax as it swung high in the air, and so often as it fell with unerring aim did it seem to me as though it hewed the living flesh from some beloved form. Without pausing to reflect I ran across the field, filled with sympathy and burning with curiosity to know what would come to light. Spitz ran nimbly beside me, and when I reached the spot, breathless with my exertions, I found Heinz had overtaken me with a few gigantic strides. Not until then did I begin to feel shy and to experience that childish terror which the sight of a strange face always brings over me. I drew back and caught hold of Heinz' coat, which at least afforded me some sense of security and protection. II. THREE gentlemen were standing on the top of the hill in a state of breathless expectation, while several work- men were employed digging and shoveling away. At the uproar Spitz made the strangers turned round and looked THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. 9 at us for a moment. The youngest of the party lifted his stick and shook it at the animal on his attempting to advance nearer. Then, coldly surveying Heinz and me for a moment, he turned his back on us. They were dig- ging near the old pine. The broom which grew round it was torn up and lay scattered here and there, while the gap which they had left exposed to view the great thick roots of my poor fir tree amid a mingled mass of yellow loam and sand: their white flesh was visible; the ax had hewed into them remorselessly. "They have come upon the stone," said one of the gen- tlemen as the men's axes sounded against something sharply, and when the last shovelful of earth was finally cleared away an enormous unhewn block of stone waa disclosed to view. The gentlemen moved to one side while the workmen prepared to roll away the stone, but Heinz moved eagerly forward, evidently dissatisfied with the manner of carry- ing on the work. With one foot in advance he began swaying his great hand to and fro, keeping time with the workers, and his pipe, the while, had no holiday of it. Very soon, indeed, I could only distinguish the strangers through a blue cloud. If only Use had been there to witness the effect! The young gentleman, behind whom Heinz was standing, looked round as if he had received a blow. He measured the unfortunate smoker with a long contemptuous stare, then waved his silk pocket handker- chief with an air of disgust, as if to disperse the noisome vapor. Heinz silently took the corpus delicti out of his mouth and threw it aside. He was struck dumb, for his pipe had never before produced such an impression. The stranger's conduct had, however, frightened and intimi- dated me to the last degree. I was quite ashamed and had already made one step toward retreating, when the stone all at once gave way and rolled a few steps forward with a rumbling sound. That chained me again to the spot. I was at first unable to see anything, because the gentle- men all pressed round the chasm, but suddenly I ceased to wish to do so and covered my eyes with my hands, fancy- ing some tremendous discovery was now about to take place. 10 TEE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. "Potztausend! was that it?" cried Heinz in a voice of undisguised astonishment. I took one glance, and for a moment the moor with its lights and shadows had disappeared, the shining butter- flies seemed to have folded tneir wings and sunk to rest, even the tall spears against the far-off horizon whither had they all vanished? The setting sun alone remained, and beneath the hill lay no gray-headed king with flowing beard and gigantic limbs concealed beneath the purple coverlet nothing but a deep dark abyss yawned at my feet. To the strangers this seemed to be the natural result. One of them, who wore spectacles and had a large tin box slung across his shoulders, jumped into the nole, fol- lowed by the young man; while the third, a tall, thin individual, examined the inner surface of the block of granite just dug up. "This stone has been cut," he remarked, passing his hand lightly over the surface. "And so have the others," called a voice from the chasm. "Just look what a magnificent stone roof we have over us a really superb block!" Just then the young man reappeared at the opening. He had to stoop so low that his hat fell off. Up to that moment I had seen but few specimens of manhood ; with the exception of Heinz, the old clergyman of the nearest parish (some ten miles distant), and a few steady-going coarse-looking farmers, none, save an occasional dirty young broom maker, had ever crossed my path. But a portrait of Charles the Great hung on the wall at the Dierkhof, and I could not help thinking of it as I looked at the uncovered head as it appeared at the mouth of the great dark cavern. The forehead shone like a broad white spotless shield under the masses of auburn hair, which he threw back with an energetic toss of his head. The young man held a large earthen vessel in his hand; it was of a grayish-yellowish color. "Take care, Herr Claudius," said the gentleman in spectacles in a warning voice, himself carrying several strange utensils. "These urns are very brittle at first, but quickly harden in the air." It never reached that safety point, however, for just as it was set on the granite block it broke. A cloud of ashes THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR.] : U rose, and human bones, nearly burned to cinders, were strewn about. The wearer of the spectacles set up a loud lament. He seized one of the fragments, and pusning up his spectacles began examining the lump of clay where it was freshly broken very eagerly. "Bah!" exclaimed the young man, "the damage is not great, professor. At least six similar pieces still remain, and they are all as like one another as two peas." "Yes, yes," he replied sharply, "that sounds very well just like an amateur." The other laughed a fascinating laugh ; it had a light and mocking sound, yet did one good to hear. He seemed to repent it, for he suddenly became grave. "I am indeed but an amateur,'" he apologized, "if an enthusiastic one, and you must therefore substitute mercy for truth when the novice, forgetting the strong curb of science, takes the bit in his mouth and sets off in a wrong direction. To me the chief interest lay in discovering the interior structure of these sepulchers, and ah, how beautiful," he exclaimed, suddenly interrupting himself and taking up one of the rare specimens which the pro- fessor had ranged in the center of the stone. The learned man to all appearance never heard the young gentleman's apology. Buried in deep, one might almost say painful thought, he was occupied in the exam- ination of these objects, sometimes holding one up to the light, then again shading it with his hand. "Hum!" muttered he to himself; "a kind of silver filigree." "Silver in a prehistoric German tomb, professor?" in- quired the young man in a somewhat mocking tone. "Look at this exquisite piece in bronze!" It was a kind of knife or dagger, and he made several passes with it in the air at some imaginary foe, then balanced it playfully on the tips of his fingers. "Certes, no German hand ever used this elegant article," he remarked; "it would have been shattered at the first grasp. And just as little did they ever produce that delicate silver ornament you have in your hand, professor. In the end, it will turn out that Dr. von Sassen is right when he maintains that these so- called Hun graves are the tombs of Phenician pioneers." Dr. von Sassen! How the name went through me! I 12 THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. even thought the speaker pointed at me as he uttered it, and I expected all eyes would be turned on my poor, frightened little person directly. How I longed for the earth to open and swallow me up! But it was all non- sense. Nobody gave me a thought and I began to breathe once more, when oh, misery, I had never once thought of him of Heinz, and there he stood, the slyboots, looking knowingly at me and whispering from behind his hand, "Ah, princess, the people are talking about " "Be quiet, Heinz," I desired, and actually stamped my foot at him for the first time in my life. For a moment he looked petrified, then shyly turned his face the other way. Meantime the attention of the others had been attracted, and for the first time they seemed to notice that the object behind them was neither a stick nor a stone, but a timid little maiden. They favored me with a fixed stare of curiosity, and I felt but too anxious to escape from the whole affair, and yet some irresistible attraction held me spell-bound to the spot. At the time I fancied this proceeded solely from the desire to hear more of the owner of that name. The fact that Heinz' remark had failed to reach the strangers' ears also helped to reassure me. The words "Phenician pioneers" had set the professor's soul on fire. An acknowledged opponent of this theory, he defended his own point of view in a speech of passionate ardor, to which the young gentleman listened with dutiful attention. The individual in the brown hat seemed, on the other hand, to have little sympathy with the learned disputations. He kept pacing up and down quietly, gazed long and thoughtfully into the open tomb, and ended by climbing the hill to obtain a full view of the vast plain. Meantime the glowing sunset paled and gradually disap- peared in violet tints below the horizon. Nothing save a faint streak of red bordering the long line of clouds re- mained visible, and it seemed as it were to point like an outstretched arm toward the desecrated resting-place. The deceptive glare of the play was o'er, and once again the sky wore its dark-blue solemn aspect. The crescent moon, whose tender light had been eclipsed till now by the universal glow, began to shine and deepen gradually into gold. The gentleman on the hill drew out his watch. "It ia THE PRINCESS OF THE MOOR. 13 time to break up," he called aloud. "It will be a full hour before we can reach the carriage." "Yes, unele," replied the young man, "unfortunately a very long hour. I wish we had already left this dreary waste behind us," and he glanced at his elegantly shod feet. This was addressed to the professor, who after an emphatic "Well, we shall see" had brought his speech abruptly to a conclusion. "Must we really return by the same wretched road?" continued the young man. "I know of no other," replied the philosopher with a shrug. The young gentleman surveyed the landscape gloomily and repeated with ironical pathos, " ' How tranquil lies the moor Beneath the noonday's burning rays.' I don't understand how people can poetize about a moor; it would freeze the poetic thought within my brain, the glowing words upon my tongue. Are you really serious about your predilection for this desert, professor? If so, I entreat you show me something besides moor moor everlasting moor, that intolerable brown plain. Is there even the note of a bird to be heard? And where has the busy hum of human life, which one expects to hear around, disappeared to? Is it buried underground? I can't help it, professor. Your favorite haide appears to me like a God-forgotten child in a dingy brown garb." The professor made no reply. He only led the young man toward the back of the hill, and taking him by the shoulder bade him look southward. There lay the Dierkhof. From every tile of its broad strong roof grew the wild flowers of the moor, while the house itself stood embosomed in the midst of four splendid oaks. Great clouds of smoke, reminding one of steaming pots and a cozy hearth, rose and vanished in the light summer breeze far above the black-and-white Frau Storchin, who sat with her long legs concealed in the nest, her red bill resting on her breast. It was still light enough to discern the rich pasture of the green fields and to catch a faint glimpse of the garden all looked like a reflection which the roseate glow of evening had left be- hind. There were Use's pets, the great orange marigolds, and at t'faat identical moment up came Mieke, satiated and 14 THE PRINCESS OF TEE MOOR. weary, seeking home of her own accord. She stood for a moment irresolutely before the open door, which stood invitingly ajar, and the noble animal completed the picture of rural prosperity. "Does that look as if weak-minded nincompoops dwelt there?" asked the professor, smiling. "Just come and visit the moor a month hence, when it is one sheet of bloom and the purple gleams and glistens! It is just like fairyland. And later still when it presents one mass of burnished gold, the gold of honey, what more can you desire? The 'God-forgotten child' then dons the robe of a king's daughter, and many of its little streams, such as you see yonder, contain pearls." "Yes, millions of watery pearls flowing toward the ocean," laughed the young man. The professor shook his head impatiently, and despite his withered face, his jaw-breaking words, and ugly rat- tling box, my heart was drawn to him for his defense of my beloved moor; in a few concise words he had summed up the blessings and beauties which it breathed. I determined, however, to take down this young gentle- man's insolence, whose scorn and ridicule made my blood boil. To this day I know not whence I summoned cour- age, but suddenly I found myself at his side, presenting my hand, in which lay five pearls. I felt as if I were standing on hot burning coals; my lips were trembling with nervousness and shame and my eyes were fixed on the ground. All around me grew dark; every one crowded about me; the gentleman who had meantime left the hill, the workmen, Heinz with his gigantic boots all were there. "Ha! ha! Mr. Claudius, see there: the child wants to give you a lesson! Bravo, little maiden, bravo!" cried the professor, at once surprised and delighted. The young man never uttered a syllable. Perhaps he was struck dumb by the audacity of a haide child daring to approach him in a coarse linen jacket and woolen petti- coat. Slowly, and as it seemed to me reluctantly, he stretched out his hand to take them and then, indeed, hame and fright thoroughly overcame me. My own sunburnt hands beside those milk-white fingers ,-m