CHAPTER II.

Yes--the priestess--the proud priestess is now the happy, yet fearing, mother. See her clasping her children, and turning, affrightedly, to the mouth of their cavern-house at every sound, however slight.

The sound increases--’tis a footstep! The children are hurried away, and the next moment Adalgisa is at the feet of the high priestess.

She tremblingly tells the story of her love. But the proud Norma is not angry--does not upbraid her! Why? Does she not think of the time when Pollione whispered loving vows to her?

At last she asks, “Who is he--thy lover?”

“Not a Gaul--a Roman.”

“A Roman--and he is named--”

Again a footstep. This time a rapid, haughty one--’tis that of Pollione. Well he knows the entrance to the house. He comes to see Norma. As he marks Adalgisa he starts. And she, the young maiden, says, “This is he--this is he who loves me.”

“He--Pollione!” See Norma standing proudly, and yet as though turned to stone.

“The very one.”

“He!--do I hear--do I see?”

O, the world of anger on her face as she looks upon the man before her. Now she knows why he has deserted her. Now she learns the meaning of his cold words and frequent absences. Then vengeance whispers her--she has but to call, and they shall both die--he, the traitor, and this weak, cruel girl! Then jealousy swept over her, and she eagerly looked at her rival. But Adalgisa coming trembling and kneeling near her, and standing far away from the Roman, she was full of pity, and she said:--

“I would that thou hadst died--I would that thou hadst died before thou hadst seen him.”

Threateningly raising his hand, he turned to go his way, but she commanded him to stay; and in spite of himself he did remain. Again rage possessed her.

“I read thy thoughts--but is she not in my power--can I not destroy her?”

“Thou shalt not do this!”

“And shalt thou stay my hand?”

He ran to Adalgisa and implored her to fly with him--but the virgin drew back from him, and again clung to Norma. But the priestess, jealous to blindness, flung the maiden from her, and bade her follow her paramour.

“Ah! no--ah! no--Norma.”

Suddenly she relented--bent down quickly and kissed the acolyte. Then she rose toweringly high and bade him depart.

“Begone--forget thy vows, thy vows--begone! I curse thee. My voice shall whisper to thee on the winds and in the waves. Go--alone! She shrinks from thee, she whom thou wouldst destroy--I defy thee. Go--alone.”

He met her look at first--but soon quailed before her. Then with his eye down-cast, he moved towards Adalgisa--but Norma stood defyingly between them.

So conquered--he turned, and left the place.

Behold her before the kneeling girl--her face towards him as he creeps away; firm, defying, protecting--she has conquered him--she, the sinning high priestess; she, but a woman; she, one of a conquered race--Norma! She has fought and beaten the powerful Roman. She stands proudly, defiantly; _he_ creeps away abashed, his very life her gift, the gift of her whom he has deserted.