The servant hurriedly nodded her head and vanished with Tetrik, who lingered for a moment at the threshold. "Oh, my brother!" murmured Victoria despondently when we were again alone. "My long struggle with that man has exhausted me--the sight of evil lames my energies--I feel broken--" "Want of sleep, excitement, the horror that the sight of Tetrik inspired you with--all this has rendered you feverish. Take a little rest, sister; I shall instantly transcribe your conversation with the man. This very evening justice will be done." "You are right; I think that if I could sleep a while I should feel relieved. Go, brother, but do not leave the house." "Would you like Sampso to keep you company?" "No, I prefer to be alone." Mora re-entered. She carried a cup filled with the beverage that her mistress had ordered. The latter took the cup and drained its contents with avidity. Leaving my foster-sister to the care of her servant, I went back to my room in order to reproduce the words of Tetrik accurately. I was just about finishing the task, which took me nearly two hours, when Mora dashed in pale and frightened. "Schanvoch!" she cried panting for breath. "Come! Come quick! Drop your writing! Hasten to my mistress!" "What is the matter! What has happened?" "My mistress. Oh! Woe! Woe! Come quick!" "Victoria! Does any danger threaten her?" I cried, hurrying to the apartment of my foster-sister, while Mora followed me, saying: "She sent me out of the room--she wanted to be alone. A minute ago I went in--and, woe is me! I saw my poor mistress--" "Finish speaking--you saw Victoria--" "I saw her lying on her bed--her eyes open--but they were fixed--she seemed dead--" I shall never forget the frightful sight that struck my eyes as I stepped into Victoria's chamber. As Mora said, she lay stretched upon her bed motionless, livid, like a corpse. Her fixed, yet sparkling eyes, seemed to have sunk into their orbits; her features, painfully contracted, were of the cold whiteness of marble. A sinister thought flashed through my mind like lightning--Victoria was dying of poison! "Mora!" I cried throwing myself upon my knees beside the couch of the Mother of the Camps. "Send immediately for the druid physician, and run and tell Sampso to come here!" The servant rushed out. I took one of Victoria's hands. It was limp and icy. "Sister! It is I!" I cried--"Schanvoch!" "Brother," she murmured. As I heard her muffled, feeble voice, methought the answer proceeded from the bottom of a tomb. A moment later, her eyes, that until then were fixed, turned slowly towards me. The divine intelligence that formerly illumined the beautiful, august and sweet look of my foster-sister seemed extinguished. Nevertheless, by degrees, she recovered consciousness, and said: "Is it you--brother? I am dying--"