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oriental and gorgeous： the paper on the walls is
occidental and paltry。 Above the head of the bed；
which stands against a little wall cutting off the
right hand corner of the room diagonally； is a
painted wooden shrine； blue and gold； with an
ivory image of Christ； and a light hanging before
it in a pierced metal ball suspended by three
chains。 On the left； further forward； is an
ottoman。 The washstand； against the wall on the
left； consists of an enamelled iron basin with a
pail beneath it in a painted metal frame； and a
single towel on the rail at the side。 A chair near
it is Austrian bent wood； with cane seat。 The
dressing table； between the bed and the window； is
an ordinary pine table； covered with a cloth of
many colors； but with an expensive toilet mirror
on it。 The door is on the right； and there is a
chest of drawers between the door and the bed。
This chest of drawers is also covered by a
variegated native cloth； and on it there is a pile
of paper backed novels； a box of chocolate creams；
and a miniature easel； on which is a large
photograph of an extremely handsome officer； whose
lofty bearing and magnetic glance can be felt even
from the portrait。 The room is lighted by a candle
on the chest of drawers； and another on the
dressing table； with a box of matches beside it。
The window is hinged doorwise and stands wide
open； folding back to the left。 Outside a pair of
wooden shutters； opening outwards； also stand
open。 On the balcony； a young lady； intensely
conscious of the romantic beauty of the night； and
of the fact that her own youth and beauty is apart
of it； is on the balcony； gazing at the snowy
Balkans。 She is covered by a long mantle of furs；
worth； on a moderate estimate； about three times
the furniture of her room。
Her reverie is interrupted by her mother；
Catherine Petkoff； a woman over forty； imperiously
energetic； with magnificent black hair and eyes；
who might be a very splendid specimen of the wife
of a mountain farmer； but is determined to be a
Viennese lady； and to that end wears a fashionable
tea gown on all occasions。
CATHERINE （entering hastily； full of good news）。 Raina（she
pronounces it Rah…eena； with the stress on the ee） Raina（she
goes to the bed； expecting to find Raina there。） Why；
where（Raina looks into the room。） Heavens！ child； are you out
in the night air instead of in your bed？ You'll catch your
death。 Louka told me you were asleep。
RAINA （coming in）。 I sent her away。 I wanted to be alone。 The
stars are so beautiful！ What is the matter？
CATHERINE。 Such news。 There has been a battle！
RAINA （her eyes dilating）。 Ah！ （She throws the cloak on the
ottoman； and comes eagerly to Catherine in her nightgown； a
pretty garment； but evidently the only one she has on。）
CATHERINE。 A great battle at Slivnitza！ A victory！ And it was
won by Sergius。
RAINA （with a cry of delight）。 Ah！ （Rapturously。） Oh； mother！
（Then； with sudden anxiety） Is father safe？
CATHERINE。 Of course： he sent me the news。 Sergius is the hero
of the hour； the idol of the regiment。
RAINA。 Tell me； tell me。 How was it！ （Ecstatically） Oh； mother；
mother； mother！ （Raina pulls her mother down on the ottoman； and
they kiss one another frantically。）
CATHERINE （with surging enthusiasm）。 You can't guess how
splendid it is。 A cavalry chargethink of that！ He defied our
Russian commandersacted without ordersled a charge on his
own responsibilityheaded it himselfwas the first man to
sweep through their guns。 Can't you see it； Raina； our gallant
splendid Bulgarians with their swords and eyes flashing；
thundering down like an avalanche and scattering the wretched
Servian dandies like chaff。 And youyou kept Sergius waiting a
year before you would be betrothed to him。 Oh； if you have a
drop of Bulgarian blood in your veins； you will worship him when
he comes back。
RAINA。 What will he care for my poor little worship after the
acclamations of a whole army of heroes？ But no matter： I am so
happyso proud！ （She rises and walks about excitedly。） It
proves that all our ideas were real after all。
CATHERINE （indignantly）。 Our ideas real！ What do you mean？
RAINA。 Our ideas of what Sergius would doour patriotism our
heroic ideals。 Oh； what faithless little creatures girls are！I
sometimes used to doubt whether they were anything but dreams。
When I buckled on Sergius's sword he looked so noble： it was
treason to think of disillusion or humiliation or failure。 And
yetand yet（Quickly。） Promise me you'll never tell him。
CATHERINE。 Don't ask me for promises until I know what I am
promising。
RAINA。 Well； it came into my head just as he was holding me in
his arms and looking into my eyes； that perhaps we only had our
heroic ideas because we are so fond of reading Byron and
Pushkin； and because we were so delighted with the opera that
season at Bucharest。 Real life is so seldom like thatindeed
never； as far as I knew it then。 （Remorsefully。） Only think；
mother； I doubted him： I wondered whether all his heroic
qualities and his soldiership might not prove mere imagination
when he went into a real battle。 I had an uneasy fear that he
might cut a poor figure there beside all those clever Russian
officers。
CATHERINE。 A poor figure！ Shame on you！ The Servians have
Austrian officers who are just as clever as our Russians； but we
have beaten them in every battle for all that。
RAINA （laughing and sitting down again）。 Yes； I was only a
prosaic little coward。 Oh； to think that it was all truethat
Sergius is just as splendid and noble as he looksthat the
world is really a glorious world for women who can see its glory
and men who can act its romance！ What happiness！ what
unspeakable fulfilment！ Ah！ （She throws herself on her knees
beside her mother and flings her arms passionately round her。
They are interrupted by the entry of Louka； a handsome； proud
girl in a pretty Bulgarian peasant's dress with double apron； so
defiant that her servility to Raina is almost insolent。 She is
afraid of Catherine； but even with her goes as far as she dares。
She is just now excited like the others； but she has no sympathy
for Raina's raptures and looks contemptuously at the ecstasies
of the two before she addresses them。）
LOUKA。 If you please； madam； all the windows are to be closed
and the shutters made fast。 They say there may be shooting in
the streets。 （Raina and Catherine rise together； alarmed。） The
Servians are being chased right back through the pass； and they
say they may run into the town。 Our cavalry will be after them；
and our people will be ready for them you may be sure； now that
they are running away。 （She goes out on the balcony and pulls
the outside shutters to； then steps back into the room。）
RAINA。 I wish our people were not so cruel。 What glory is there
in killing wretched fugitives？
CATHERINE （business…like； her housekeeping instincts aroused）。
I must see that everything is made safe downstairs。
RAINA （to Louka）。 Leave the shutters so that I can just close
them if I hear any noise。
CATHERINE （authoritatively； turning on her way to the door）。
Oh； no； dear； you must keep them fastened。 You would be sure to
drop off to sleep and leave them open。 Make them fast； Louka。
LOUKA。 Yes； madam。 （She fastens them。）
RAINA。 Don't be anxious about me。 The moment I hear a shot； I
shall blow out the candles and roll myself up in bed with my
ears well covered。
CATHERINE。 Quite the wisest thing you can do； my love。
Good…night。
RAINA。 Good…night。 （They kiss one another； and Raina's emotion
comes back for a moment。） Wish me joy of the happiest night of
my lifeif only there are no fugitives。
CATHERINE。 Go to bed； dear； and don't think of them。 （She goes
out。）
LOUKA （secretly； to Raina）。 If you would like the shutters
open； just give them a push like this。 （She pushes them： they
open： she pulls them to again。） One of them ought to be bolted
at the bottom； but the bolt's gone。
RAINA （with dignity； reproving her）。 Thanks； Louka； but we must
do what we are told。 （Louka makes a grimace。） Good…night。
LOUKA （carelessly）。 Good…night。 （She goes out； swaggering。）
（Raina； left alone； goes to the chest of drawers；
and adores the portrait there with feelings that
are beyond all expression。 She does not kiss it or
press it to her breast； or shew it any mark of
bodily affection； but she takes it in her hands
and elevates it like a priestess。）
RAINA （looking up at the picture with worship。） Oh； I shall
never be unworthy of you any more； my heronever； never； never。
（She replaces it reverently； and selects a novel
from the little pile of books。 She turns over the
leaves dreamily； finds her page； turns the book
inside out at it； and then； with a happy sigh；
gets into bed and prepares to read herself to
sleep。 But before abandoning herself to fiction；
she raises her eyes once more； thinking of the
blessed reality and murmurs）
My hero！ my hero！
（A distant shot b