The moon was now pouring her silver beams, with full radiance, over the quiet street, the linden in front of the Ortlieb house, and its lofty gable roof.  Only a single room in the spacious mansion was still lighted, the bow-windowed one occupied by the two sisters.

Heinz, without heeding Biberli’s renewed protest, looked upward, silently imploring Eva’s pardon for having misjudged her even a moment.  His gaze rested devoutly on the open window, behind which a curtain was stirring.  Was it the night breeze that almost imperceptibly raised and lowered it, or was her own dear self concealed behind it?

Just at that moment he suddenly felt his servant’s hand on his arm, and as he followed his horror-stricken gaze, a chill ran through his own veins.  From the heavy door of the house, which stood half open, a white-robed figure emerged with the solemn, noiseless footfall of a ghost, and advanced across the courtyard towards him.

Was it a restless spirit risen from its grave at the midnight hour, which must be close at hand?  Through his brain, like a flash of lightning, darted the thought that Eva had spoken to him of her invalid mother.  Had she died?  Was her wandering soul approaching him to drive him from the threshold of the house which hid her endangered child?

But no!

The figure had stopped before the door and now, raising its head, gazed with wide eyes upward at the moon, and—­he was not mistaken—­it was no spectre of darkness; it was she for whom every pulse of his heart throbbed—­Eva!

No human creature had ever seemed to him so divinely fair as she in her long white night-robe, over which fell the thick waves of her light hair.  The horror which had seized him yielded to the most ardent yearning.  Pressing his hand upon his throbbing heart, he watched her every movement.  He longed to go forward to meet her, yet a supernatural spell seemed to paralyse his energy.  He would sooner have dared clasp in his arms the image of a beautiful Madonna than this embodiment of pure, helpless, gracious innocence.

Now she herself drew nearer, but he felt as if his will was broken, and with timid awe he drew back one step, and then another, till the chain stopped him.

Just at that moment she paused, stretched out her white arm with a beckoning gesture, and again turned towards the house, Heinz following because he could not help it, her sign drew him after her with magnetic power.

Now Eva entered the dimly lighted corridor, and again her uplifted hand seemed to invite him to follow.  Then—­the impetuous throbbing of his heart almost stifled him—­she set her little white foot on the first step of the stairs and led the way up to the first landing, where she paused, lifting her face to the open window, through which the moonbeams streamed into the hall, flooding her head, her figure, and every surrounding object with their soft light.

Heinz followed step by step.  It seemed as if the wild surges of a sea were roaring in his ears, and glittering sparks were dancing before his yearning, watchful eyes.