148 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

But this time she did not tremble, she did not flinch,
she did not even lower her eyes ; she stood as a stone.

“Good,” said she; “go. Bring me the lilies, and
something better than thy word to prove they are
the fairy’s!”

“Ay, I will bring thee token enough,” echoed
Michael, sorrowfully, as he turned away. He moved
down the little broken moss-grown steps that led
from the terrace to the orchard below ; but ere he
reached it he turned.

She was looking after him from the threshold, proud
and cold and silent.

“Salome,” cried he, “think of it once again! If
_ thou sendest me from thee upon this cruel errand,
thou sendest me to my death.”

Still she was motionless, and uttered not a word.

He flung himself up the steps—he flung himself at
her feet.

“Salome, think of it!” moaned he. “Once thou
didst love me, thou hast said it. Ay, thou hast said
it with thy sweet eyes when we have wandered