For, in truth, it _was_ a lady that Paul saw standing before him at midnight hour beneath the light of the stars in the depth of the Dalmatian forest; and, like the lady of the poem, she was both richly dressed and marvellously beautiful--lovely as the soft beauty of a southern night; with raven hair, and dusky eyes that seemed the mirrors of a sweet melancholy. She wore a long Dalmatian capote with the hood drawn over her head. The capote being partly open revealed a costume of the richest silk. Decorated with curious gold brocade, and with a wealth of chain-work and gems, this dress, though it might have been pronounced bizarre by the more sober taste of Western ladies, harmonized in Paul's judgment with the wild oriental beauty of the wearer. "Pardon me if I have startled you. Which way does Zara lie?" And the astounded Paul, usually full of assurance in the presence of women, could do nothing on the present occasion but simply stammer forth, while pointing to the north,-- "That is the road to Zara." "I thank you, signor." With a stately inclination of her head she drew her capote more closely around her, and walked away in the direction indicated by Paul as quietly and confidently as if the lonely forest-road were the Boulevard des Italiens, and the distant Zara a pretty toy-shop a few yards ahead! Different people, different customs. Was it the habit of young Dalmatian women to take solitary midnight walks through bear-haunted forests? Recovering from his surprise Paul hastened after her. "Signorina, you cannot walk alone to Zara." "And why cannot I walk alone to Zara?" said the young lady, facing Paul and assuming a hauteur that had a somewhat chilling effect upon his gallantry. "Perils beset you--banditti, for example." "With native Dalmatians the person of a woman is held sacred. No one, not even a robber, will do me hurt." Subsequent inquiry on the part of Paul proved that the lady had spoken correctly. Indeed he learned that if a stranger travelling in this region were to place himself under the escort of a woman, he would be free from molestation. This high standard of chivalry, curious among a people otherwise barbarous, explained the lady's confidence and fearlessness in approaching him. "But, signorina," remonstrated Paul, "the way is so long. Zara is thirty miles off. And you would walk that distance on foot! Consider the fatigue." "I can sit and rest, and when tired can sleep for a time on the ground as I did last night. I _must_ reach Zara," she added, with a shiver as of fear. Her dress of jewels gave proof of her wealth, her voice and manner of refinement. It was amazing, then, to hear her talk of sleeping _al fresco_ on the turf like a gipsy or a soldier. "I thank you, signor, but I do not require an escort." So saying she walked away again with the dignity of a princess, while Paul in his bewilderment gazed after her retreating figure.