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approach them, they turned round, and at once all lay before them in perfect light and calm. At some distance, about a mile perhaps, the purple sunset fell upon the trunk of a high pine-tree; and it stood out, burning amidst the verdure, like a torch in a dark room. On the road every stone was now throwing a long black shadow, being covered with a purple veil and a golden, blood-tinged aureola. The girl’s hair shone, lighted up by the rays of the setting sun. One of her thin curls was lifted up and swung by the wind like a golden spider’s web.
Although now it had become dark all around, the course of their conversation was neither broken nor changed for one moment. The same free, cordial, and calm words flowed on with equal currents. Our hero and heroine were always discus sing the same topics, i. e., power, beauty, and immortal love. Both were still very
