rushed forward to seize the murderer, and bind him hand and foot; while Carl, in an agony carried his victim to a couch in one of the waiting-rooms adjoining the court. But before the police could arrest the baron, he had with marvellous dexterity, drawn his sword, and deliberately stabbed one of them. CHAPTER XXXVI. He's not prepared for death! Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl of season; shall we serve Heaven MEASURE FOR MEASURE ii, 2. GRETCHEN was not killed, not even dangerously wounded; this was owing to Carl's portrait which she wore inside her dress, and which generally hung in front, but which, in this instance, had got twisted round, so that it rested on her shoulder just where the ball struck her, and caused it to turn aside. Thus, while she had saved him, he had saved her. In consequence of this, the wound, though painful, was slight, and not such as to cause any uneasiness to those who loved her; she was kept in bed, and was rather feverish for a few days; but after that she began rapidly to improve and was soon quite herself again. Carl insisted on preparing her broths and cooling drinks with his own hands; his campaigning had made him skilful in the culinary art, and as his loved one drank his masterpieces, she could not refrain from exclaiming, "Why, Carl, what must thou have thought of the messes I gave thee when thou wert ill and I thy cook, if this is what thou wert accustomed to? "No nectar from heaven ever tasted in the mouths of the old gods, as they did in mine!" was the fervid response. One day Carl came in from his short morning constitutional, which Gretchen insisted on his taking, looking very pale and grave. 'Carl," she said, come here." He came and sat down by her chair. 'Thou hast heard some bad news; tell it to me?" "It will but excite thee, and retard thy recovery; "he answered nervously. "It would retard me far more not to hear it. Oh, mine own! when wilt thou learn that no sorrow can be great, when it is shared with thee?" "True," she answered gently, "but some are more unfit than others," and tears slowly coursed over her cheeks. "The one whose death you tellest me of," she shrank from mentioning his name, "is the most unfit of all I know, or ever have known." "Well he'd better make himself fit as quick as he can, for the sentence is passed, and no power on earth can delay it for one hour. Everyone is furious at the insult offered to the Crown Prince and the whole court, by his dastardly attack upon me, and except from his own relatives, I hear nothing but expressions of satisfaction at the punishment he has so richly deserved; and when I think of the way in which he made thee suffer, I cannot but agree with them." "He could never make me suffer as he suffers himself," she answered, "what a state his mind must be in now; poor fellow!" and again her tears flowed. "I wonder if anything would induce him to see a priest." "There's as much chance of his seeing the man in the moon, I should think," and Carl tossed his head back with a slight laugh. She sighed bitterly. "How soon is it to be?" "I do not know the day for certain, but within a week I understand." She shuddered, "Oh, how terrible! to appear before his Judge, with all his sins red upon him! no repentance, no pardon!" and the expression of her face grew very frightened. "Oh, I'm sorry I told thee! how could I have been such a fool? it will undo all the good of my nursing; and thou wert getting so much better." "Nein nein," and she shook her head impatiently; "I rejoice that thou didst tell me; for now I'll send at once to the Sisters of Charity to get them to pray for his conversion during the too short time left him to make his peace with God! Quick! please give me my note book, and I'll write to the Mother Superior immediately." He obeyed in silent astonishment, not unmingled with veneration, for the charity which prompted such a deed. In a few moments the letter was written and despatched, and looking more at her ease, she leaned back to rest herself after the exertion. Just then there was a knock at the door, and as it opened Baron von Bluhall's own servant entered, and bowing low, handed Gretchen a note scrawled in pencil. She hastily tore it open His heart swelled with a joy too strong for and read: "I implore of you to have pity on me, words. “Come, Carl; thou tellest me not." He started; his mind, in dwelling on his own happiness, had forgotten the grief of another; of which he had just heard. Gretchen, the policeman whom the baron stabbed is dead, and the baron is in consequence condemned to death; he is to be executed immediately." She grew very pale, while tears rushed to her eyes; for an instant she did not speak, then she exclaimed in a tone of deep feeling, "May the Lord have mercy on his soul! Oh, Carl, he is not fi: to die!" None of us are if it comes to that," said her lover gloomily. and if you are a Christian to come and see me. I am to die in three days, and I have something of infinite importance to say to you; come at once, as the last two days I shall not be allowed to see anyone." She handed the letter to Carl; while she turned to the servant who, to do him justice, looked very grieved and upset. Is your master in prison?" 'Yes, Fräulein, in the-jail," and he hung his head, and looked utterly woe-begone. You cannot go; it is impossible!" said Carl, angrily; "I never heard of such a request! A man who has all but taken your life; from the effects of whose cruelty you are now suffering! and he started up indignantly; "Tell your master that Fräulein Maher is astounded at his impudence; or, rather, would be astounded, did she not know it by experience to be astounding." He tossed the letter contemptuously towards the servant. "Stop! hush!" and Gretchen raised herself. "Do you know for what reason your master wishes to see me?" "No Fräulein; he said nothing about his reasons, only he bade of me to implore of you 'by everyting you held sacred,' those were his words to grant him this last boon." 'Is he alone? has he any firearms?" "None Fräulein; he is in a small cell, watched day and night by two warders." She stood up, and for a minute or two seemed absorbed in thought. "Thou canst not go; what art thou dreaming of? I will not let thee,' exclaimed Carl vehemently. She raised her eyes for an instant to an old bronze Crucifix which hung over the mantelpiece. "Carl," and she looked kindly, but determinedly at him; "thou shalt come with me, and then thou canst see that all is safe." "All is safe sir, I assure you!" interrupted the servant, speaking with eagerness; "there is no possibility by which my master could conceal any dangerous weapon, as he has been searched from head to foot, and all his own clothes taken away; he is in the prison dress." Carl's brow darkened, and he pouted out his lips, "It is outrageous; I never heard of such a thing in my life; after the way he has treated us! I will not stir an inch nor with my consent shalt thou." She laid her hand gently on his arm, and turned him towards the Crucifix. "Carl she said, as she looked at it, "I have sins to be forgiven; hast thou none?" Truly," and he shuddered and looked down. "Come then, let us go. It is thus thou wilt win back the visions of thy youth." It was a new idea to him, and he thought it would be worth trying. Benjamin Baron von Bluhall was sitting on a low legged wooden stool, in one corner of a damp cell, into which the light penetrated in faint gleams through a long narrow window defended with thick cross-bars of iron. An empty porridge bowl of wood stood at his side, and it was the only article of furniture in the cell, with the exception of the stool on which he sat. He was attired in a rough, grey, cotton suit of clothes; patched and darned in many places, and of which the coat-sleeves and the trousers were a great deal too short for him. He, the greatest dandy in the Augusta Guards, whose clothes used to fit without a wrinkle, whose tailor considered himself the proudest artist in Berlin; he, brought to such a pass as this; he, | accustomed to every luxury which art could contrive or riches purchase! He sat with his head buried in his hands,-in an attitude of hopeless despondency. Suddenly the cell door was flung open by a warder, who called out in a harsh voice, " there; No. 10, there's visitors come for you." Get up He rose instantly to his feet. Gretchen Maher stood before him. It seemed as if an angel from heaven had come down into that gloomy cell. Pale from her recent wound, with her golden hair braided off her face, but looking calm and self-possessed; she s ood with the light from the open door folding her round in a glory. He could scarcely believe it was not a vision. But soon her voice hroke the spell, "Baron von Bluhall, you sent for me; what can I do for you?" Her tone was very gentle and not in the least angry or haughty. He remembered, how vividly! the last time and place where they had had a private interview, when she had come to beg to him for mercy, mercy on him she loved, and how had he received her suit? He trembled as he recollected how infamously he had bargained with her, how brutally he had tortured the most sacred feelings of her nature, and how, finally, he had by giving her a false address, he had deceived her in a way which might have brought her to despair and ruin. Would she, could she, pardon him? Had forgiveness under such circumstances ever been heard of in the annals of Christianity which he had called many a time "one vast net-work of shams spread to ensure the weak of intellect and the cowardly of heart, in order to bring them under the slavery of priestly authority." Yes, that was his estimate of the religion whose value he was now about_to test. He wondered, as she stood there before him, so sweet and calm, if she recollected the circumstances under which their last private interview had been conducted. Carl did not appear; he leant behind the door, which opened into the passage, where he could not be seen. "Fräulein Maher," and he made the old, fashionable bow, which in spite of his clothes, had an air of the ball-room about it; "I first humbly ask your pardon for all the injuries I have done you in my life." "Were it not granted I should not be here to tell you so," she answered gently. He looked steadfastly at her with his bold, black eyes. (To be concluded in our next.) Bridge, for it was too slow travelling in the cumbrous coaches of those days to suit with Adelaide's impatience to be beside her sick kins man. those weltering waves. Still, however, the foam flew right and left as Sir Hubert and the boatmen bent to their oars, and one long deep furrow marked their course; but still also the malignant As Sir Hubert had observed, the weather which cries of their foes rose high above the howling of was so unpleasant on land, was yet more dis- the wind and the rushing of the waters, and still agreeable on the water. The heavy clouds that the distance between them became ominously less. overhung the river, communicated their own These violent efforts too, combined with the blackness to its waters, save when the rushing stormy weather, caused the boat to pitch wind crested them here and there with a white so fearfully, that Adelaide momentarily expected foam. With an observance of that caution which that it would upset. But in this frightful a mind cool in the confidence of real courage emergency, with death threatening in modes so never neglects, Sir Hubert had warily watched horrible, from the hand of the wild zealot, or in the for the moment when the boat might be launched bosom of the angry waters, the character of the unobserved frem Whitehall; at the moment of young countess well supported its lofty claims. embarkation, none other appeared in sight; it No sob, no cry of woman's weakness, escaped her had not, however, measured more than half the lips; she had thrown back her hood better to scan distance between the gardens of Whitehall and the course of her foes, and there she sat, pale those of Salisbury House, the site of the modern | indeed, but rather with excitement than with fear, Cecil Street, when three other boats appeared, all her large eye expanding with a noble scorn of the keeping within range of each other, and about a fanatics who she felt were thirsting for her bood. bowshot from that which was occupied by Sir Hubert and his fair charge. These boats had floated, one after another, from under the banks of the river, where they had been sheltered from observation. The rowers had not struck sixty strokes, after leaving the palace, when the first of these boats hove forwards, but the river was rough, and as their own light bark pitched up and down, the false page had readily found an opportunity to let a streamer of scarlet ribbon float for a moment upon the waters. The distance, however, which the boats for some time preserved, lulled the apprehension of Sir Hubert, though it could not disarm his prudence; but, long before our party had reached Somerset House, a hostile intention was made evident by the occupiers of the other boats, who were plain'y giving chase with the intention of closing round them. "Row for your lives, my men!" cried Sir Hubert, for what could his single arm do in her defence, and he was sensible that in some extraordinary manner she had been recognized. Bitterly did he regret that precautionary measure which had left her with such slight attendance; but it was the time for action now; and, throwing off his cloak, he himself took one of the oars, and with his vigorous stroke almost doubled the distance between the boat and its pursuers. This necessary abandonment of a useless disguise, was however hailed with a shout of triumph by the opposite party, and a voice in whose loud harsh tones Adelaide thought that she recognized those of the orator of the morning, exclaimed, Sing canticles of joy, ye godly and well affected, lo, the malignants fly before ye! Lo, the young Jezebel shall be given either to thy hands, or to the deep waters! "Be of good cheer, gentle lady, we shall outstrip the villains yet!" gasped Sir Hubert breathless with exertion; the rowers too showed no lack of courage or good-will, but they were outnumbered by those in the other boats, and the space between the countess and her foes sensibly diminished. The labour of urging the boat through the water at such a tremendous rate was greatly increased by the rough weather: it required almost superhuman force to impel it over Far different, however, was the bearing of the false and craven page. We have said that he was beautiful; there was indeed a kind of feminine loveliness in his pale auburn ringlets, delicately-formed features, and deep blue eyes: but now those eyes were glazed with terror, his features suffused with the pailor of death, and his hands clasped in a paroxysm of remorse and fear. The eye of the countess, turning for a moment from her merciless foes to the noble countenance of Sir Hubert, glowing with exertions to save her, glanced upon the pale terror-stricken features of the page. 66 Nay!" cried she indignantly, "those white lips shame thy sex; take heart, and put thy hand to the oar for thine own life, if not for mine." The page turned his eyes towards his lady with a ghastly look, as though but half comprehending her words, and his lips moved, but not a sound escaped them. No time, however, was allowed to Adelaide to remark upon his cowardice, for a louder and more triumphant yell recalled her attention to the Puritans. Two of their boats were side by side with that which she occupied : the third, though it had not yet come up with them, was giving chase with equal vigour, but no sound, no cry, proceeded from it, nor had any such been heard throughout the pursuit. The hostile boats were now not half an oar's length distant: in one of them a tall gaunt-looking man rose up, the orator of the morning-that Benaiah Gibbs, whose service Richard Eardsley had employed the goldsmith to secure. 64 Slay, slay her!" exclaimed he, "let not the woman of the Philistines escape; and they who take part with the ungodly, let death come hastily upon them!" 'Nay, nay, Master Benaiah!" cried another voice, my master wills not that the maiden should be slain." "Verily, the will of the Lord is high above that of thy master," answered Benaiah; and the next moment the boat which he occupied struck with much violence against the one which contained the countess, but the Puritan, in the full career of his rage, heeded not his own peril. A loud lamentable cry broke from the lips of the miserable page; and in an instant, as Sir Hubert started up in defence of the countess, towards whom Benaiah had stretched out his arm, the catastrophe occurred which she had from the first apprehended-the boat was overturned, and the whole party struggling in the waters. "Verily," cried the horrible Benaiah, "the blood-thirsty and deceitful men shall not live out half their days. The mouth of the bottomless pit shall close over the ungodly maiden even as they have closed over her the deep waters." This very charitable and pious prediction was not, however, destined to be accomplished. For even amid the confusion and horror of the moment, Sir Hubert had managed to secure his hold of the countess, and he now bore her up boldly, while he struggled to reach the Lambeth bank of the river, which happened to be the nearer. Such, however, was the exhaustion consequent upon his late endeavours that, though a good swimmer, he found that his strength was unable to contend with the agitated waters. A dead sickness seemed to fasten on his heart, a "bubbling cry" from the wretched page was in his ears, yet he still firmly grasped the waist of Adelaide, though it seemed almost by a kind of instinct that he was conscious of the persons in the third boat bearing down to his assistance. When, however, he was fairly rescued, he lay by the feet of his preservers in as senseless a state as the countess herself. CHAPTER III. THREE hours after this almost miraculous deliverance, Sir Hubert Cressy was sitting with the peron who had effected it, in an apartment of a large old house in the district of Lambeth. The wind still careered along in loud moaning gusts, and occasionally a drift of rain was dashed against the windows. The moon, however, was up, though the dark clouds hurried at intervals across her disc; but, when she again broke through them, her pale light, as it poured upon the small diamond-shaped panes from which the curtains were drawn back, revealed the extensive but somewhat prim garden that surrounded the dwelling, whence the eye might range over the low swampy fields which chiefly composed that district, and which spread without interruption even to the banks of the river. The appointments of the room, if they did not give evidence of absolute wealth on the part of the owner of the house, indicated something more than a respectable competency. A thick carpet covered the floor; the lamp upon the table, before which sat Sir Hubert and his entertainer, was of finely chased silver; the oaken chairs were elaborately carved, and furnished with cushions of garnet coloured damask satin; curtains of the same material fell in rich folds about the window. Though the month of March was very near its close, the chill air made the large fire which blazed upon the hearth between the two massive dogs of bronze very acceptable; and its ruddy flames, as they roared upwards, sometimes threw into strong relief the quaint figures wrought in the stone-work round the huge chimney, and anon left them grinning through a sort of doubtful light. This room was evidently designed as a library, for the walls were completely lined with immense bookcases of carved oak; the volumes which filled them were for the most part of an outward aspect that would have delighted Jonathan Oldbuck, had he lived in those days; huge, grave, ancient looking tomes, many of them richly bound in old morocco, turkey, or vellum ; but they had all the same reverend appearance. An exquisite neatness prevailed in that apartment; alabaster vases of the most elegant and classic form were filled with the earliest spring flowers, and assuredly a female hand had been concerned in their tasteful arrangement, while not a particle of dust was to be seen either upon the bookcases or on their highly-prized contents. It might have been readily supposed that that apartment belonged to some aged scholar with a gentle daughter, some fair girl who delighted to relieve the severity of her father's thoughts with a cheerful aspect of outward things, with an admirable neatness, and the fair colours and pleasant tints of nature's sweetest children-the flowers. Perhaps some such thought crossed the mind of Sir Hubert as he glanced round the chamber, and then with a sort of surprise at the person of his host, a young man certainly not more than three or four and twenty years of age, and not more than three or four years older than Sir Hubert himself. The young man smiled at that slightly inquiring gaze. "Look, Sir Hubert!" said he, motioning towards the well-stored book-shelves, "here are my friends, the companions of whom I spoke to you; you, a gentleman of that court, the worst foes of which cannot certainly charge it with a neglect of learning, will easily understand that I can well dispense with common would acquaintances, in the society of such dear and noble friends as these." As he spoke, the young man led Sir Hubert round his library, exhibiting its treasures with a sort of quiet pride. Himself an elegant scholar, Sir Hubert, as one valued volume after another was opened before him, readily understood his host. Walter Acland, for that was his name, was one of those characters which the world has sometimes seen, the devotee, the enthusiast of classic learning. The sublime speculations of Plato, the stern dignity of Cato, the eloquence of Demosthenes; these so filled his heart and soul that, though living in the world, he could hardly be said to belong to it. It was a creation of his own in which he really existed, and this world of his fancy was fair and noble; there he framed model Republics, and revolved the mysticisms of the later Platonists. Thus passing his inward life amid the intellectual and the sublime, whenever he came to contemplate the actual world beyond he was revolted by its malice, its weakness, and its tyrannies; and flung back upon himself, he sought in his dreams of the beauty and greatness of the past, a remedy for the actual, every-day evils of the present. Thus, on the first symptoms of discontent, he joined himself heart and soul with the discontented. Hampden and Pym he placed upon pedestals beside Timoleon and Brutus. This |