There we will listen to what you say and swear to each other that we will not say a word of what has gone on down below there.

Then everyone will do as you bid, for you are the most prudent of us all." "Then I shall only have to wait another week ?" enquired Anicza, winding the locks of Fatia Negra round her fingers.
"For what ?" asked the adventurer.
"Nay, but surely you know ?" "Aha! of course!" said he smiling.

"You mean you will only have to wait another week for me to cease to be your husband under a mask and become your real, true husband, eh?
That is the end of all your thoughts, eh ?" "Yes, yes!" said the girl, but she thought within herself: "I shall only have to wait a week to give up your masked head into the hands of the hangman!" So Fatia Negra unsuspiciously rocked the girl up and down on his knee and reflected complacently: "Girls are made in order that they may believe the lies which men choose to tell them." But Anicza was a Wallachian girl and Wallachian girls are jealous, revengeful and artful.
* * * * * That Saturday had arrived.
Seven hundred torches lit up the Lucsia Grotto.

In between, from out of the corners of the cavern Bengal lights burst forth from time to time flooding for a few moments the whole of that gloomy palace with green, blue, white and rose-coloured flames to which the red flame of the pitch-torches with their black smoke formed a spectral contrast.
The great company of coiners had arranged for the last evening before their separation a sumptuous feast in this subterranean hall.

The floor was strewn with white sand and all round about tents were erected in which roast and baked meats were piled up into veritable hillocks on broad beech-wood dishes.