h been paid the family of
the man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety."

Little Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. "Nay, Lord
Emperor," said he, in his quaint, quiet way, "there are but two in the
family--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry the
little girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I would
not have harm happen to her."

The Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last he
gave a short, dry laugh. "So be it," said he, "thy plan is not without
its wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should be
ended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held in
trust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thou
hast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own
care. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under my
own charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?"

"Aye," said Otto, simply, "I am willing, for it seems to me that thou
art a good man."

The nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for the
Emperor, he laughed outright. "I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron," said
he; "there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy
than that."

So comes the end of our tale.

But perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no one
cares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it.

Eight years had passed, and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's
court, and was with him through war and peace.

But he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right hand
that hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingers
never closed. Folks called him "Otto of the Silver Hand," but perhaps
there was another reason than that for the name that had been given him,
for the pure, simple wisdom that the old monks of the White Cross on
the hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that the
Emperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words were
listened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even by
the Emperor himself.

And now for the end of all.

One day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperial
castle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so very
dreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his.
Poor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in the
black cell at T