The Romance of a Water-Lily. 147

 

me once with thy pipes and thy tunes, and thy com-
munings with the trees and the flowers wherein thou
didst swear I dwelt; but my eyes are opened. I
know now that thou art nothing but a ne’er-do-well,
ay, and a deceiver. I have deserved to be laughed
at for thy sake; but now—now I know where I am.
Thou hast thought to trick me out of my own foolish-
ness. Because I seemed to believe in this silly fairy
tale, thou hast thought to trade upon my credulity, to
make me think thou hadst done something brave for
my sake, when thou wast all the time that which they
call thee in the village. But thou mightest have spared
thy pains. Thou hast only made me believe thee a liar.”

Michael’s face became transfigured—transfigured
by the setting sun.

“Take care, Salome,” said he, and his voice was
not angry, but solemm and very sad; “it may be that -
ill may come of what thou sayest. I will return; I
will pluck the magic lilies for thee ; I will bring them
to thee at the dawn. But it will be at the cost of my
life. I shall not again escape the penalty. Within
the year I must die.”