"The Nemesis of the barbarians!" he retorted contemptuously. "She only
placed herself at the service of my art reluctantly; but you, Althea, if
you will loan yourself to me as a model, I shall succeed in doing my very
best; for you have just permitted me to behold a miracle, Arachne
herself, whom you became, you enchantress. It was real, actual life, and
that--that is the highest goal."

"The highest?" she asked hesitatingly. "You will have to represent
the female form, and beauty, Hermon, beauty?"

"Will be there, allied with truth," flamed Hermon, "if you, you peerless,
more than beautiful creature, keep your word to me. But you will! Let
me be sure of it. Is a little love also blended with the wish to serve
the artist?"

"A little love?" she repeated scornfully.

"This matter concerns love complete and full--or none. We will see each
other again to-morrow. Then show me what the model Althea is worth to
you."

With these words she vanished in the darkness, while the call of her name
again rang from the tents.

"Althea!" he cried in a tone of mournful reproach as he perceived her
disappearance, hurrying after her; but the dense gloom soon forced him to
give up the pursuit.

Ledscha, too, left her place beneath the sycamore.