“Greek honey,” interposed the sorceress, “but strong enough to turn such a poor young head. And what more happened? The demons desire to hear all--all--down to the least detail--all!” “The least detail?” repeated Ledscha reluctantly, gazing into vacancy as if seeking aid. Then, pressing her hand on her brow, she indignantly exclaimed: “Ah, if I only knew myself how it conquered me so quickly! If I could understand and put it into intelligible words, I should need no stranger’s counsel to regain my peace of mind. But as it is! I was driven by my anxiety from temple to temple, and now to you and your demons. I went from hour to hour as though in a burning fever. If I left the house firmly resolved to bethink myself and, as I had bidden my sister, avoid danger and the gossip of the people, my feet still led me only where he desired to meet me. Oh, and how well he understood how to flatter, to describe my beauty! Surely it was impossible not to believe in it and trust its power!” Here she hesitated, and while gazing silently into vacancy a sunny light flitted over her grave face, and, drawing a long breath, she began again: “I could curse those days of weakness and ecstasy which now--at least I hope so--are over. Yet they were wonderfully beautiful, and never can I forget them!” Here she again bowed her head silently, but the old dame nodded encouragingly, saying eagerly; “Well, well! I understand all that, and I shall learn what more is coming, for whatever appears in the mirror of the wine is infallible--but it must become still more distinct. Let me--first conjure up the seventy-seven great and the seven hundred and seventy-seven little demons. They will do their duty, if you open your heart to us without reserve.” This demand sounded urgent enough, and Ledscha pressed her head against the old woman’s shoulder as if seeking assistance, exclaiming: “I can not--no, I can not! As if the spirits who obey you did not know already what had happened and will happen in the future! Let them search the depths of my soul. There they will see, with their own eyes, what I should never, never succeed in describing. I could not tell even you, grandmother, for who among the Biamites ever found such lofty, heart-bewitching words as Hermon? And what looks, what language he had at command, when he desired to put an end to my jealous complaints! Could I still be angry with him, when he confessed that there were other beauties here whom he admired, and then gazed deep into my eyes and said that when I appeared they all vanished like the stars at sunrise? Then every reproach was forgotten, and resentment was transformed into doubly ardent longing. This, however, by no means escaped his keen glance, which detects everything, and so he urged me with touching, ardent entreaties to go with him to his studio, though but for one poor, brief hour.” “And you granted his wish?” Tabus anxiously interrupted.