“Still I see a sparkling ring on your finger.”
“I cannot perceive what thine eyes behold. What kind of a ring dost thou see?”
“A large circle with an emerald in the form of a star, set in gold.”
“It is strange thou shouldst see that,” said she, after a moment’s silence. “The involuntary workings of the human mind and the connection of its dreams with certain past deeds, perchance, include providential mysteries. The science of these inexplicable things belongs only to the One who knows the cause and the reason for everything. The hand that thou thinkest thou dost behold exists only in thine imagination. What is left of me in the tomb would fill thee with horror; but it may be that thou seest me such as I was on earth. Tell me how I appear to thee?”
I know not what enthusiastic picture I drew of her. She seemed to listen with attention and said:
“If I resemble this statue, that should not surprise thee for I acted as its model. Thus thou bringest back to my mind the memory of what I once was, and even the jewels thou dost describe, I remember having worn. The ring thou thinkest thou dost see I lost in a room that I occupied in this chateau. It fell between two stones under the hearth. I intended to have had the stone raised on the next day, but I died that very day. Shouldst thou search for it thou mayst perchance find it. In that case, I give it to thee as a souvenir of me and of the oath thou hast sworn to obey me. Behold, the day breaks, farewell!”
This farewell caused me the most acute pain I had ever experienced and I came near rushing forward once more to seize this shadowy enchantress, for by degrees I had approached near enough to be within reach of the hem of her garment, had I dared to touch it, but I had not the courage. It is true, I had forgotten the threats of the legend against those who attempted this profanation. I was only held back, powerless, by a superstitious respect, but a cry of despair broke from my heart and vibrated even amid the marine shells, held by the tritons of the fountain. The shadow paused as if withheld by pity.
“What more dost thou desire?” said she. “Day approaches and I cannot remain.”
“Why not, if such is thy will?”
“I am forbidden to again behold the sun of this earth. I dwell in the eternal light of a more beautiful world.”