CHAPTER XIV
NEARING A CRISIS
A few nights after the defeat of the Appropriation Bill, Paul Woodville at a late hour strolled forth into the gardens of the Vistula Palace, with no design of meeting Barbara, but drawn thither chiefly by the extreme beauty of the moonlight.
He sat down in solitude by the margin of a tree-girt lake, watching in an abstracted manner the silvery path of light on its surface, and musing over the strangely romantic turn his life had taken.
A sudden rustling among the foliage put an end to his reverie, and on turning he found Barbara by his side.
She was excited, if not angry. There was a defiant expression upon her face, and a lovely color burned on her cheek. She was habited as if for a journey, for her figure was concealed by a cloak with the hood drawn around her head. Her appearance reminded Paul of their first meeting in the Illyrian forest; and, as if responsive to his thoughts, Barbara's first words recalled that time.
"Paul, do you remember those happy days in Dalmatia? Come and let us renew them."
"I am not quite sure that I understand."
"Let us leave Czernova this night—this hour—now. Take me with you."
For a moment Paul doubted whether he could have heard aright. Then recovering from his surprise, he asked,—