This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D.W.]
By Georg Ebers
Paula passed a fearful night in the small, frightfully hot prison-cell inwhich she and Betta were shut up. She could not sleep, and when once shesucceeded in closing her eyes she was roused by the yells and clankingchains of the captives in the common prison and the heavy step of anothersufferer who paced the room overhead, even more restless than herself.
Poor fellow-victim! Was it a tortured conscience that drove him hitherand thither, or was he as innocent as she was, and was it longing, love,and anxiety that bereft him of sleep?
He was no vulgar criminal. There was no room for those in this part ofthe building; and at midnight, when the noise in the large hall wassuddenly silenced, soft sounds of the lute came down to her from hiscell, and only a master could strike the strings with such skill.
She cared nothing for the stranger; but she was grateful for his gift ofmusic, for it diverted her thoughts from herself, and she listened withgrowing interest. Glad of an excuse for rising from her hard, hot bed,she sprang up and placed herself close to the one window, an openingbarred with iron. But then the music ceased and a conversation beganbetween the warder and her fellow-prisoner.
What voice was that? Did she deceive herself, or hear rightly?
Her heart stood still while she listened; and now every doubt wassilenced: It was Orion, and none other, whom she heard speaking in theroom above. Then the warder spoke his name; they were talking of herdeceased uncle; and now, as if in obedience to some sign, they loweredtheir voices. She heard whispering but could not distinguish what wassaid. At length parting words were uttered in louder tones, the door ofthe cell was locked and the prisoner approached his window.
At this she pressed her face close to the heated iron bars, lookedupwards, listened a moment and, as nothing was stirring, she said, firstsoftly, and then rather louder: "Orion, Orion!"
And, from above, her name was spoken in reply. She greeted him and askedhow and when he had come hither; but he interrupted her at the firstwords with a decisive: "Silence!" adding in a moment, "Look out!"
She listened in expectancy; the minutes crept on at a snail's pace to afull half hour before he at last said: "Now!" And, in a few moments, sheheld in her hand a written scroll that he let down to her by a lutestringweighted with a scrap of wood.
She had neither light nor fire, and the night was moonless. So shecalled up "Dark!" and immediately added, as he had done: "Look out."
She then tied to the string the two best roses of those Pulcheria hadbrought her, and at her glad "Now!" they floated up.
He expressed his thanks in a few low chords overflowing with yearning andpassion; then all was still, for the warder had forbidden him to sing orplay at night and he dared not risk losing the man's favor.
Paula laid down again with Orion's letter in her hand, and when she feltslumber stealing upon her, she pushed it under her pillow and ere longwas sleeping on it. When they both woke, soon after sunrise, they hadbeen dreaming of each other and gladly hailed the r