104 Lily and Water-Litly.

faded from the bosom of the glacier. It is cold,
Salome, but the moon will rise ere long. I go where
there is a deed to do, though I would it were one
fraught with deeper danger.”

“JT wish you good luck,” said she, more softly, as
she moved off.

He strode after her, one long stride, and laid his
hand on her arm.

“Salome, thou believest in fairies,’ said he. “Ah!
do not deny it. I know it—and where is the shame?”

He had fallen into the use of the familiar pronoun
in his energy, and she did not resent it. She stood
silent; it was true—superstition was the bit of
imagination in her simple nature, and she was far too
honest to deny it to him.

“Thy silence gives consent,’ added he, after a
moment, “and for my love of thee I pray that I may
see a sight of one this night. Say, Salome, if it be so,
shall it be the way to thy favour at last?”

She turned, in her sudden return of fear forgetting
her anger. “He who looks in the eyes of a Rhéne