Now they were passing before the walls of a noble palace, now beneath long, low galleries of arches, now again across the open space of the Great Ring in the midst of the city--then all at once they were standing before the richly carved doorway of the Teyn Kirche, the very doorway out of which the Wanderer had followed the fleeting shadow of Beatrice's figure but a month ago.

And then they paused, and looked again to the right and left, and searched the dark corners with piercing glances.
"Thy life is in thine hand," said the woman, speaking close to the boy's ear.

"It is yet time.

Turn with me and let us go back." The mysterious radiance lit up the youth's beautiful face in the dark street and showed the fearless yet gentle smile that was on his lips.
"What is there to fear ?" he asked.
"Death," answered the woman in a trembling tone.

"They will kill thee, and it shall be upon my head." "And what is Death ?" he asked again, and the smile was still upon his face as he led the way up the steps.
The woman bowed her head and drew her veil more closely about her and followed him.