"I cannot ask you to break your promise to your friend, Herr Delmar," the girl said, not without a shade of embarrassment. "I can only hope that both you and my cousin Leo's other friend will consent to be my father's guests at Castle Reifenstein. This I trust my cousin will arrange with you and your friend to-morrow morning. In the mean time I have a request to make of you. Perhaps your selfishness will allow you to grant it." "Oh, my selfishness is a very convenient selfishness; of course it allows me to do whatever gives me pleasure, and nothing, I am sure, could give me greater pleasure than to fulfil any request of yours, Fräulein von Heydeck." "It is certainly a most courteous selfishness," Hilda said, with such a bewitchingly merry glance that Paul registered a silent vow upon the spot to bring her the moon from the skies if she asked for it. "Only tell me what you desire, Fräulein von Heydeck," he exclaimed, "and I will make impossibilities easy!" "I am not quite so exacting," Hilda replied. "My desire can be easily complied with: it is only that you should return to Tausens by the usual way. Since you are such an admirable mountaineer, I will allow you to take the common foot-path, and show you myself where it is; you cannot miss your way by it in descending the mountain. Will you do as I ask, Herr Delmar?" "Ah, here I recognize the lovely but evil fairy who has already cast her spells upon me! Nevertheless, a promise is a promise, and must be kept." Hilda thanked him merrily, especially for the title of "evil fairy," and declared herself quite ready to act as his guide to the foot-path down the mountain, the shortest way to which was through the garden and court-yard of the castle. She went first, Leo and Paul following. Paul could see nothing but his lovely guide; he had no eyes for the beauty of the garden through which they were passing, and he scarcely noticed that as they entered a shady walk an old gentleman appeared walking towards them. Only when Hilda paused and, addressing the old man, cried joyously, "Papa! here is Cousin Leo with his friend!" did he turn to scrutinize with a certain curiosity the man of whom he had heard so much. The old gentleman was evidently not prepared for the encounter: he had a book in his hand, and was walking in the garden, reading; apparently he never would have noticed the strangers if Hilda's exclamation had not called his attention to them. When he heard the name of Leo a smile passed over his withered face, but it vanished in an instant as, with an expression of positive horror, his eyes opened to their utmost extent, he gazed at Paul, who approached and, lifting his hat, bowed courteously. This was an extraordinary reception. For a minute the old man seemed incapable of speech; he gazed silently at Delmar, whom he waved off with his hand, retreating a step at his approach. He never even looked at Leo: Paul absorbed his entire attention.