"You know I was a Moslem, and was never taught to pray."
"But now you are a Christian, and our prayers are beautiful. Take your prayer-book to-night."
"Yes, for your sake I will learn to pray."
The major found in the book of devotion Timar had once given his wife, the "prayer for brides."
"I will learn it by heart to-night."
"Yes, do so—do so!"
Timéa read it aloud. Athalie felt a diabolical rage in her heart. The man will be discovering the secret in the wall; he will keep Timéa up praying all night. Curses, curses on the prayer-book!
When the major left the anteroom, Athalie was already there. Timéa called from her room to light the major to the door, thinking there would be a servant there as usual; but to-day, as we know, they were engaged in anticipating the morrow's feast. Athalie took the candle which stood outside, and lighted the major along the dark passage. The happy bridegroom had no eyes for any other woman's face—he saw only Timéa, and thought it was the maid-servant who opened the door for him. He wished to be generous, and pressed a silver thaler into Athalie's hand; then he started as he recognized the voice.
"I kiss your hand, kind sir."
"Is it you, fraülein? A thousand pardons! I did not recognize you in the darkness."