"So far the game is neither over nor lost."
"Did Fatia Negra appear at the hut in the ice valley?"
"Pardon, my lady, but please never mention that name before me, for on hearing it everything I look upon grows red, and every limb of my body begins to tremble. You see, my hands are trembling now. Let us speak of him in future as the Unknown; so far as I am concerned he shall henceforth be the Unknown for ever more."
"Then you met him there?"
"Suffer me, my lady, to rally my scattered wits a bit. Oh! what a horrible night this has been! When I look back upon it, I feel giddy. But anger and despair sustain me. Oh! what have I not sacrificed for that man, for that devil, and oh! how I have been betrayed! But why should I worry your ladyship with my misery! Listen to what happened. When your ladyship left me the other night, I immediately saddled my horse and set off for the ice valley. The way thither is very bad, dangerous in fact, but fortunately the moon was high and bright and made it easier for me to find the path. The Pole star was already sinking when I reached the bottom of the valley, and I could see from afar that there was a light still burning in the goatherd's little hut. The night owls soon drove it out of my eyes, for in that valley dwells so many owls, and they are so bold that the tips of their wings brush against people's faces as they sweep past. I had known Mariora for a long time, while she still lived at home with her father, but since she became Juon Tare's wife we have only seen each other occasionally and at long intervals, and then too only when I visited her, for she, the poorly-married woman, never came to visit us—the rich people. On reaching the hut, I tied up my horse and tapped at the little window, through which one cannot peep as, instead of glass, the window-frames are filled with opaque mica which Juon Tare himself discovered amongst the hills. Mariora recognized my voice and hastened to unbar the door. She was much surprised and much delighted to see me at that hour. She embraced, kissed me, and burst into tears. At first I thought it was from pure joy,—then I thought she pitied me. 'Is there anything wrong?' I asked. Then she pulled herself together, dried her tears and said: 'I have an invalid on my hands.'—'Your child?'—'No, Ursu.'—It was just as if a viper had stung me.—'Ursu sick?' I cried.—'Yes, I don't know what ails him. Since yesterday he has been lying down shaking and trembling, while the day before he was skipping about and turning somersaults. Fatia Negra (Domne Zeu,[28] forgive my lips for uttering that name) was playing with him for a long time.' 'Did he come hither?' 'Yes, he said he was on his way to you.' 'He lied. Then it was he who poisoned the bear.'
[28] The Lord God.
"Mariora trembled at these words, and grew paler than ever.
"I seized her by the hand and drew her with me into the hut. I whispered in her ear that I knew all. 'The accursed wretch has been faithless to me because of your pretty eyes. He swore to me by sunlight and he swore to you by moonlight, but you would not listen to him. You love your husband and Black Mask relies on his strength now that fair words have failed. The coward has poisoned your faithful guardian like the wretched thief, the miserable house-breaker, that he is.'—Mariora's hut was lighted by the flame that flickered on the hearth. A bedstead of linden-wood covered with goat-skins, a table of slate and a few three-legged chairs were all the furniture. There was also a nicely carved and painted little cradle in which lay the little child, sleeping, with his plump little hands drawn up behind his head, like an angel. In the extreme corner of the room the faithful beast lay all of a heap on a lair of soft moss,—at the last gasp. He groaned and shivered continually like one in a fever, and raised his failing eyes with such an eloquent appeal to his mistress, as if he would have spoken to her. Sometimes he pricked his ears as if he were listening and snuffed joyously. Perchance he expected his master, perhaps he wanted to lick his hands for the last time. Poor beast, how I pitied him! 'He will die,' I whispered to Mariora. I durst not say it aloud for I imagined the beast understood everything which men say to one another. 'And then will come the tempter, who knows that you are alone and defenceless.' I told her everything which your ladyship told me, and the woman trembled like an aspen-leaf.
"'Where is Juon Tare encamping now?' I asked Mariora.
"'Only a mile from here in the Vale Capra.'