Hilda looked with dismay at the Countess standing there oblivious to her surroundings, forgetting even that she had a companion, the moonlight enfolding her in its gentle radiance. From this wild talk of archers and wounding, Hilda feared that reason had fled from her beloved mistress, but the Countess, guessing her thought, turned suddenly toward her and laughed.
"Yes, Hilda, reason has deserted me, and I have before now on this spot acted directly contrary to its teachings, and yet am I without regret. But we must talk no more of lovers and the moonlight, nor even of the subdued twinkling of the stars, and to show you how practical I am, I will tell you what we are to do these coming few days, so that we may think of nothing but that we have in hand. I have not yet told you, Hilda, how glad I am that you are with me again, and how much I missed you all these long months. I am so helpless without you, and these hands are as useless—as useless——"
"They are most beautiful, my Lady."
"Yes, he said that, and it therefore must be true," murmured the Countess, looking down at her fair hands as impartially as if they belonged to someone else, as indeed they did. "What could he see in me, Hilda, to wish for me? I am obstinate and unruly. I left my guardian in a most unmaidenly manner; I am often defiant to all rightful authority, and have rebelled when my uncle has commanded. He knows all this, for he aided me in my flight, and he has seen me face my uncle in anger, and yet—and yet—Why is it, Hilda?"
"You are the most lovely lady on this earth, Countess Tekla."
"That cannot be, for I have heard there are the fairest ladies in Frankfort, at the Court, that man has ever looked upon, yet he came from Frankfort, and from the Emperor's Court, and must have seen them. Even were it true what you say, I would not have him love me for that alone. I care for him, not because he is the noblest and best in all the land, but because he is Rodolph, and he—perhaps he cares for me because I am Tekla. It is all a mystery which I cannot fathom. I left my guardian knowing nothing of Rodolph, and now it seems as if I must always have known him, and that he was waiting for me, as in truth he was. But here am I talking of him again, after saying I would think no more until he returned. Oh yes, I remember now what I wished to tell you, when your flattery about my hands set me off on the familiar path. Hilda, in this castle I have made a wonderful discovery. Ah, I have made more than one unlooked-for discovery since I inhabited Thuron, for nothing is more wonderful or more entrancing than that I should have discovered his—Oh, Hilda, shall I ever talk sanely again? I doubt it."
"What discovery in the castle, my Lady?"
"Oh, that there is here a veritable robber's cave, such as the minstrels sing about."
"Indeed, such is what they call the castle itself down in Alken."
"Do they? I wonder why. Hilda, there is in Thuron an enchanted room; I know it is enchanted, for the light is dim, and the ghosts of bygone ladies haunt it continually."