did not seem to notice it, and without moving his lips, he coolly guided
the steed towards the water. Beside herself now with horror and dread,
she implored him to turn away; but he did not heed her, and went on
unmoved into the midst of the stream. Her terror increased to an
agonizing pitch as the horse bore her deeper and deeper into the water;
of her own free will she threw her arms round the rider's neck; his
paleness vanished, his cheeks gained a ruddy hue, his lips sought hers in
a kiss; and, in the midst of the very anguish of death, she felt a thrill
of rapture that she had never known before. She could have gone on thus
for ever, even to destruction; and, in fact, they were still sinking--she
felt the water rising breast high, but she cared not. Not a word had
either of them spoken. Suddenly she felt urged to break the silence, and
as if she could not help it she asked: "Am I the other?" At this the
waves surged down on them from all sides; a whirlpool dragged away the
horse, spinning him round, and with him Orion and herself, a shrill blast
swept past them, and then the current and the waves, the roaring of the
whirlpool, the howling of the storm--all at once and together, as with
one voice, louder than all else and filling her ears, shouted: "Thou!"--
Only Orion remained speechless. An eddy caught the horse and sucked him
under, a wave carried her away from him, she was sinking, sinking, and
stretched out her arms with longing.--A cold dew stood on her brow as she
slept, and the nurse, waking her from her uneasy dream, shook her head as
she said:

"Why, child? What ails you? You have been calling Orion again and
again, at first in terror and then so tenderly.--Yes, believe me,
tenderly."