The castle, in the wild winters that shut out the Hohe Tauern from the world, was oftentimes a hospice for travellers, though usually those travellers were only pedlars, colporteurs, mule-drivers, clock-makers of the Zillerthal or carpet weavers of the Defreggerthal, too late in the year to pursue their customary passage over the passes in safety. To such the great beacon of the Holy Isle and the huge servants' hall of Szaravola were well known.
She sat down to her embroidery frame without speaking; she was working some mountain flowers in silks on velvet, for a friend in Paris' The flowers stood in a glass on a table.
'It is unkind of you to go out in that mad way on such a night as this, and return looking so unlike having had an adventure!' said the Princess, a little pettishly.
'There has been no adventure,' said Wanda von Szalras, with a smile. 'But there is what may do as well—a handsome stranger who' has been saved from drowning.'
Even as she spoke her face changed, her mouth quivered; she crossed herself, and murmured, too low for the other to hear:
'Bela, my beloved, think not that I forget!'
The Princess Ottilie sat up erect in her chair, and her blue eyes brightened like a girl of sixteen.
'Then there is an adventure! Tell it me quick! My dear, silence is very stately and very becoming to you; but sometimes—excuse me—you do push it to annoying extremes.'
'I was afraid of agitation for you,' said the Countess Wanda; and then she told the Princess what had occurred that night.
'And I never knew that a poor soul was in peril!' cried the Princess, conscious-stricken. 'And is that the last you have seen of him? Have you never asked——?'