Now a rosy sheen became visible through the trees, which grew brighter and brighter at every step. "We shall soon be there," said the baron, who walked ahead. In a few minutes they really came out upon the clearing, which Oswald had seen on the afternoon when he saw Melitta for the first time at her house. At the same place, near the edge of the pool, where the gypsies were then cooking their meal, a fire was now burning, but large and bright, as if to throw a flood of light upon the scene. The tops of the mighty trees glowed in rich purple or were lost in dark shade as the flames of the pile of wood blazed up or sank low; on the black mirror of the pool another fire shone in dim glow, and surrounded by this magic illumination the Brown Countess was seen on her knees before Czika, whom she overwhelmed with kisses and caresses. The child tried in vain to draw her up, and at last threw herself down by her side, hiding her head in the bosom of the woman. This was the sight that greeted the two men when they reached the clearing at last, completely out of breath. They stood there silent and motionless, almost overawed by the strange, touching spectacle. Then the gypsy rose, and taking the child by the hand she came up to the two, and said to Oldenburg, who stared at her with his eyes wide open: "Do you know me, master?" At that moment the flames blazed high up and fell with the brightness of daylight upon every feature in the noble, proud face of the Egyptian woman, and upon every line of her slight, lofty figure. "Xenobia!" cried the baron, opening his arms, "Xenobia!" The brown woman threw herself, with a cry of mad rapture, on his bosom, and held him as if she would never part again with the man of her love. But the very next moment she tore herself away from him, stepped back, and stood there motionless, her arms crossed on her bosom. Czika was standing between her and the baron, turning her large dark eyes full of amazement from the one to the other. The baron took her by the hand, and stepping up to the gypsy woman, he said to her, in a tone which, in spite of all his efforts, betrayed his deep emotion: "Xenobia, is this child----" He could not continue; in vain he tried to utter the word. At last he stammered: "Your and my child?" "Yes, master," said the gypsy, without stirring, but fixing her dark, bright eyes on the baron.