While these men were arguing thus (failing with all their ingenuity, perhaps, to hit upon the true state of the case) a scene which they would have been glad to behold was taking place some twenty miles away, and not far from the banks of the Ardon. Here that river (on its way to join the Terek below Vladikaukaz) rushes through a rugged and desolate country on the further side of Kazbek, where the fall of the land is towards the north, and the long shadows lie in snowy stripes, even to the suns of midsummer. This was the melancholy spot where Rakhan owned that hunting-lodge, to which the poor Princess Oria had turned for refuge, when the snows of autumn blocked the track. Here it was that Imar (furious at her apparent guilt) found her most unhappily, at the very moment when the faithful steward—whose presence would have proved her innocence—was gone to the nearest hut in search of provisions and help to clear the road. And here it was that she breathed her last, slain by her own hand, according to the ordinance of her ancient race, to expiate the intolerable insult of the man she loved and worshipped.

But now the woman who had caused her death, or led up to it so cleverly by her own malevolence, felt no misgivings about that. Betwixt twins, even of the kindest nature and clinging from their birth to one another, a fungoid growth is apt to spring, as it does in a tree cleft down the centre, but not allowed to part in twain. Either member of the impaired union believes that the other belongs to it; and both are ready to close the grip against all who would divide them. But as years go on, and diverse attractions draw them more and more apart, each begins to form and thicken cuticle against the other; at least if they are of equal strength. And then the stuff that vainly came to close the gap grows venomous.

Jealousy, like a yellow toadstool, sprang up in young Marva's heart, when her brother dared to love another woman better than herself. She had fallen away from the twinship first by giving herself to Rakhan, without a word to her brother, and sacrificing to passion all the tender ties of kindred love. None the more could she endure that her brother should do likewise; and she would not believe, although she knew it, that her lover had murdered her father. Then when her husband made a grievance of Imar's just refusal to pay marriage-portion to that murderer—unless he would come and take the oath—she made a grievance of it too, more and more bitter as Rakhan began to make more and more spite of her poverty. And so it went on, with the crust of sullen temper thickening year by year, and the faith of married life turned sour by her husband's faithlessness, until her brother slew the wretch who had ruined him and outraged her.

Fair fight it was, and if ever one man has the right to stop another from his evil deeds below, and give him chance of mercy ere his black account grows blacker, the one might plead that right, and the other accept the relief with gratitude. But reason is less than a drop in the ocean of a tempestuous woman's heart. Marva's ill-will towards her brother deepened into bitter hatred, and nothing but his exile saved him from her brooding vengeance. And now she had found a chance of wreaking her wrath upon him to heart's content, and with the same blow satisfying her lifelong thirst for wealth and rule.

Therefore now her black device was on its last bound towards success; and we, who rejoice in lawful acts, and tricks that can be justified by solid legal argument, must bear in mind that her scheme was well in accordance with the local law.

To save all risk of being late for the ceremony of the morrow, she had quitted the stronghold where she allowed us the honour of that interview, and crossing the mountains west of Kazbek by the Ardon watercourse, had put up at this hunting-lodge, as the only suitable dwelling near the Valley of Retribution. About seventy armed men of the tribe, and a dozen village elders had been despatched to the Roman jail to keep guard, and prepare the trial; while she had only a few men with her, including the gentle Hafer, and the thoroughly savage Hisar.

But the lady as yet had no suspicion of our rapid counterplot, which we never could have formed without the tidings and the help of Usi the Bear-slayer, whom she had corded to the rock for wolves. And if we could only have foreseen her sojourn at this hunting-lodge, what a dash we might have made with the mining force alone and held our haughty captive as a hostage for her prisoners! But as yet we knew not where she was; and as to what may here be told it is scarcely needful to observe that it came to my knowledge afterwards. And often on our road we doubted, in spite of all we heard of her, whether that any woman in her right mind, and acting with cool intention, would compass a crime almost beyond the conception of a man soever vile. Although it was not for the sake of the horror, but an indispensable part of her scheme, that her brother should be slain by his own, and only son!

"Hafer," she said to this noble-looking youth, who believed himself the only son of her injured husband Rakhan, "at last the time is come for you to vindicate your father. To-morrow his murderer will be condemned by the verdict of the elders of our tribe—the men who were faithful to your father, the great Prince Rakhan of the Ossets. Your father died, as you know too well, in the assertion of your mother's rights. Your uncle Imar, my own brother, was gifted by Heaven with no sense of justice. He was not content with robbing me, your dear mother, of my rightful share in my father Dadian's inheritance; but when your own brave father Rakhan vainly made suit after many years to obtain a small share of my rights, what did your uncle Imar do? You know, you have heard it a thousand times; he slew your father in cold blood, taking mean advantage of superior strength. He left me a widow, a helpless widow, with you my only child almost a babe. Instead of remaining, like a man, to face the consequence of his crime, and trying at least to make compensation, he fled to an island in the west called England, where all malefactors are sheltered and fed. There he lived in luxury for many years, receiving all the revenues which of right were mine. Now he has returned, without a word of sorrow to me, to rob me of the little I have tried to save. You know how hard I have striven against fortune, labouring to keep the scanty relics of my rights, and to take charge of small affairs that have chanced to lose their owner. Even you I have been compelled sometimes to deprive of enjoyments to which your birth entitled you. Is it not the truth, my child?"

"Mother, it is indeed the truth. I have often been ashamed of my desire for more food. And yet it has been a pleasure to me to behold you never famishing."

"A barley-cake has been enough for me. There are some who can so deny themselves. But justice comes to those who wait, and bear their sorrows patiently. The murderer of your father has, even through his own bad designs, fallen into the hands of those to whom he owes so long a debt. We have him beyond all power of escape. To-morrow he will be justly tried by those who know what he has done. The elders of this noble race, the race of the white sheepskin, will have him placed before them. He will be forbidden to poison the air with any lying speeches. His sentence will be death, and you—according to the law of ages—you are the man to execute it."

The young man fixed his large and gentle eyes upon her face, in doubt whether she could mean in earnest to enforce such a cruel task. Even the worst of tyrants threatens a great deal more than he means to do; and when it is a female tyrant, deeds can scarcely equal words, however strong the whole may be. This youth had received enough of both,—the blast of words, the lash of deeds,—and a heart that was both just and tender had confused the brain by pouring vain emotions into it.

The lady met his eyes with more than the every-day contempt in hers. It was not in her nature to make allowance for the result of her own work. Studiously from his infant days she had crushed all free-will out of him; and yet she scorned him for having none. As fine a specimen of manly growth as could be found in all the world was towering over her dark head, tall and stately though she was. She hated him for doing that, and she scorned him for doing it in stature only.

"Am I to speak again?" she asked, with a gaze from which his mild glance recoiled. "I have set your duty before you, Hafer; if you are coward enough to refuse it, another will discharge it for you; and according to the ancient laws you will be imprisoned and starved to death. What will become of Lura then? She will love you, if you are a man. If not, she will turn to Hisar, who is longing to prove himself more worthy, and all her beauty will be his."

"What has Hisar to do with this? He is always seeking to supplant me. You speak as if I were a coward, because it is not my desire to shed blood of man or beast; those who have done no harm to me, why should I do harm to them? Neither do I take heed of words, being brought up with reproaches daily, which it becomes me not to answer. But of Hisar I have no fear. It is the feminine voice that scares me, because it has always held dominion, and is too rapid to contend with. You have never allowed me to obtain any skill in weapons, such as a full-grown man should have; neither have I desired to fight, which is worthy of wolves, and dogs, and hogs. But if Hisar thinks to take my place in the things which he is coveting, Hisar is of ignoble breed, let him come and make trial of me; and let Lura come and see it, if her gentle nature does not shrink."

Hafer tossed his golden curls, and tried to look fierce; but nature had not gifted him with that expression, neither had practice supplied the lack. And then he smiled at his own attempt, having much of his father Imar's vein. No woman, worthy to be called a woman, could have looked at him without admiration, and pity for all that he had suffered to take the bold spirit out of him. But the woman who had crushed his life was enraged at this slight outbreak.

"Something more than vaunt is needful to establish claim to courage. Hisar is brave; the maidens admire him, the fighting men are afraid of him. If thou art too liver-hearted to avenge thy father's wrongs, a braver youth will take thy place, and do thy duty for thee. It will not be worth while to starve thee, Hafer, and to listen to thy craven shrieks. On thy forehead we will brand Coward, and expel thee from a tribe of men. Hisar shall be the Lord of Ossets, with Lura for their Lady."

"For the Lordship I care not. Thou hast done thy best from my birth to make me what thou art not—a woman. Hisar is more to thee than I am, though he is but a stranger. But he shall never be Lord of Lura; for I know that she hates him, and he would grind her into dust. For her sake, I will do this thing; loathsome as it is to me, since it must be done by somebody. But remember one thing, if I am forced to this—never more will I call thee mother."

"Poor fool! Does he think he will have the chance?" she muttered, as he strode away repenting already in his soft young heart of words that might have been too harsh. "Child of the detested Oria, better for thee to have died than led my own dear little one to his death. Thou hast escaped the precipice, but the Russian mines shall be thy doom. Hisar, where art thou, my son? Heardest thou what that spoon-pap said? This hut shall have a golden door, and walls of lapislazuli. Within it Oria slew herself; and within it her first-born has sealed himself for Siberia."

Hisar came forth from the inner room, so fateful to SÛr Imar, and for once his surly face looked bright. Since his return he had thought scorn of his native land and all therein; but he durst not show his mother that.

"Madam, it is nobly designed," he said, "and all in strict accord with law. Pedrel first, he shall have his wages, for which he has dared to follow me hither, and to plague me about marriage with his sister. Then to see that pious Imar fall by the hand of his sanctimonious son; to explain to that sweet saint what he has done; and then to deliver him to the Russians to be tried for parricide! It is high time to be quit of him. He begins to show cheek, as the men of England say. I could have stabbed him yesterday, if it were not for spoiling your noble scheme. Oh, mother, the eagles of Rakhabat alone can have brought thee such counsel from the clouds above! I am clever, and full of great devices, but never could I have invented this."

"My child, it is but one of many that have entered into my swift mind. When I was a girl among the nuns, to pass the winter nights, we used to relate delightful stories, far more ingenious than this. The difficulty is not to think them, but to do them, to make a great success of them. This we have not accomplished yet; but I see not how it can slip from our hands. So far, things have worked well for us. Even the weather has taken our part. That spy of a SvÂn is wolf's meat ere now, and there is not a Lesghian this side of Karthlos. No fear of that meddlesome Briton, I trow, or of Stroke, the drunken traveller, who threatened to come after thee."

"Would that I could catch them in our valleys, mother! George the farmer would have small chance then of swinging his gun, and singing psalms with the angelic Dariel! How I scorn and hate soft women! And they love me not. All love and liking hath gone to the meek and milky Lesghian 'Hafer;' as thou hast chosen to call him. Therefore, to the Russian hell with him! But of one thing I would warn thee, much admired and beloved mother. When we have torn the red cross down, and cast it beneath the white sheepskin, and filled our belts with the gold of Imar, not long will I tarry in these dens of rock fit only for the hermit and the huntsman. Of Selina I am already weary, and soon as my heart is weary both of Dariel and Lura—since the ancient law allows us twain, which is less than the wisdom of the Moslem—I shall leave thee to command this savage race, and take their tributes for me. Yearly will I come to see thee, and my two devoted wives, when the harvest-time is on, and cities are too hot to dwell in. But London and Paris, Paris and London, will be the delight of Hisar."

The Princess had heard this more than once, and it did not distress her. She had none to love or plot for now, except this savage Hisar, her own, but unacknowledged son. Forsooth when Rakhan proved himself both brutal and faithless to her, and quitted her before the birth of the genuine Osset Hafer, and wandered with a light-of-love, the outraged wife took her revenge, according to the manner of the country, by encouraging a Khabardan chief, a bold and haughty Mussulman. Hisar, born of this transmontane sally, about two years after the true Hafer's birth, but before his death at Karthlos, was of necessity kept from sight during every return of Rakhan. That strong-willed savage, like many others, allowed unlimited action to himself, but passion only in the passive form to those who might have saved his soul, if there had been any heart behind it.

"Thou art not fit to govern men," the Princess Marva looked at Hisar with a smile of mild contempt, which would have been anything but mild to any other woman's son; "but there is time enough to learn all that. Fierce enough thou art; and that is the understreak of all government. All the needful frauds will flow into thy noble spirit, when thy truest friends and warmest loves have shown thee what the onyx is."