They faced each other in a dead silence.
"Do not go," he faltered, extending his hands.
She slowly placed her own in them. It was a moment upon which hung the fate of two lives. Otto felt her weakness in her look, in the touch of her hands, which shivered, as they lay in his, as captive birds. And the long smothered cry leaped forth from his heart: What was crown, life, glory—without love! Why not throw it all away for a caress of that hand? What mattered all else?
But the woman became strong as he grew weak.
"Go!" she said faintly. "Farewell,—till to-morrow."
He dropped her hands, his eyes in hers.
Giving one glance backward, where Eckhardt had disappeared, Stephania first began to move with hesitating steps, then seized by an irresistible panic, she gathered up her trailing robe and ran precipitately up the steep path, her fleeting form soon disappearing in the moonlight.
Otto remained another moment, then he too stepped out into the clear moonlit night. In silent rumination he continued his way toward the Aventine.
Past and future seemed alike to have vanished for him. Time seemed to have come to a stand-still.
Suddenly he imagined that a shadow stealthily crossed his path. He paused, turned—but there was no one.