The words sounded contemptuous, and so bitter, that Valentin shook his head disapprovingly. "It is fortunate in this case that it is so," he rejoined. "It would be sad for Hans to be in earnest, for, apart from the difference of rank, the hand of the Countess Hertha was disposed of long ago." "Disposed of? To whom?" Michael asked, hastily, turning from the window. "To Count Raoul Steinrück, her relative. In their sphere marriages are usually contracted for family reasons, and this one was thus arranged years ago. There has been no betrothal as yet, because the Countess could not bring herself to part with her daughter, but it is to take place shortly." The priest had formerly been the Countess's confessor, and was still perfectly aware of all the family affairs; he mentioned them now as matters of course, and went on speaking of them in detail, not observing that his listener seemed thunderstruck. Michael had turned to the window again, and stood with his face pressed against the pane, never stirring until Valentin had finished speaking. "There will be a great deal of disturbance in your house to-day, your reverence," he said at last, "and I should be sorry to inconvenience the sacristan. It would be better for me to go to the lodge, and stay there until to-morrow." "What are you thinking of?" Valentin exclaimed, in displeasure. "I can understand the reserve of which Hans accuses you, but this is going too far." "The Countess knows nothing of my being here, and if you say nothing about it----" "She will learn it through Katrin or the sacristan. A guest is so rare in my lonely home that it is always discussed by my people; and how am I to excuse your flight to the Countess?" "Flight?" the young officer said, angrily. "She cannot regard it as anything else, since she knows nothing of your relations with the family." "You are right," said Michael, drawing a deep breath. "It would be flight and cowardice. I will stay." "Yes, you are quite inaccessible to good sense," said Valentin, with a fleeting smile, "but as soon as flight is mentioned the soldier in you is astir, forcing you to stand your ground. But I must see after Katrin; she is quite upset, and will need my aid and counsel." Michael was left alone. He had tried to go, he had been forced to stay, and his eyes were bright as they sought the road winding up from the valley. Flight! The young warrior had indignantly repudiated the word, and yet for weeks he had been fleeing from a power to which he would not bow, and which nevertheless threatened to master him. As if it were in league with the fiend, it made constant assaults, now amid brilliant social scenes, now here in a lonely Alpine village; just when he thought it farthest away it suddenly appeared. Again he was to stand face to face with it, and Michael well knew what that meant; but as he stood erect, stern, and resolute, prepared for conflict, he did not look like defeat. * * * * *