'You alone can do it, brave and noble knight,' answered Rasalkol. 'You alone have the means in your hands, to destroy Hiorba, deliver me, and procure unspeakable happiness for yourself; but he who would serve Rasalkol must not fear to shed blood!' 'Give me but wealth and power, and I will slay millions for you.' 'Take this withered twig,' said the phantom, handing him a wand. 'Bear it to the chamber where Daura sleeps, strike your dagger to her heart in such a manner that the warm blood shall sprinkle the wand. The twig will acquire new life; leaves, buds and flowers will instantly put forth, it will take root in the earth and bear a magnificent fruit, containing within itself the seeds of death. Divide the fruit and send it in the name of Daura to Ryno and Aliande. As soon as you hear that they are dead, bring their bodies here and lay them by the corpse of your wife. Then tear out their hearts and burn them with the wood of the tree. When the fire shall have destroyed the last fibre, Hiorba will expire with dreadful torments. I shall then be free and eternally grateful.' 'I am yours!' cried Idallan, cautiously proceeding to the sleeping chamber of the unhappy Daura, with the magic wand in one hand and his dagger in the other. A mysterious light preceded the monster's steps. Softly opening the door, the angelic form lay before him, wrapped in peaceful slumber. The sweet smile of innocence played upon her pale lips. In a tone of melancholy tenderness which would have softened a tiger, she exclaimed in her sleep, 'lovest thou me no longer, Idallan?' Yet did Idallan, with a malicious scowl, raise his arm to strike. At that instant a flash of lightning hurled the dagger from his hand, and, instead of Rasalkol, the sorceress Hiorba stood before him. Her piercing glance seemed almost annihilating, and the trembling culprit cast his eyes upon the earth, as if imploring it to open and swallow him. 'Daughter, your tender husband would become your murderer!' said Hiorba. 'Thus is your hasty choice rewarded.' Then turning to Idallan: 'the soul's deepest grief, the eternal loss of her heart's peace, punishes your unhappy wife for her disregard of the maternal advice; but what can be a sufficient punishment for you?' Idallan was silent.