t you see him? you ought to be ashamed of
yourself! Who ever saw the like? I say, why do you cry?"

"I don't know, mother," she whispered, trying in vain to stop her
tears; "I have such a pain in my heart, I don't know why."

"Come, adone with it, I say! or we shall be too late in the church.
Hark! how they are playing and singing? Come along, or else I'll not
look at you again!" With these words she dragged the girl towards the
church. Barbelle followed; and covered her eyes with her white apron,
lest the townsfolk should laugh at her. But the deep sighs which she
was unable to suppress, made people think she was labouring under some
acute suffering. The sounds of the organ and chorus of voices ceased
just as they arrived at the entrance of the church. The round matron
was aware that the marriage ceremony was now to begin, and therefore
endeavoured to push her way through the crowd; but in vain, for as
often as she thought to squeeze her plump person into the body of the
church, she was sure to be pushed back again with abusive words.

"Come, mother," said the girl, "let's go home. We are poor people,
they'll not let us in; come away."

"What? the church is made for every one, poor or rich!" said her
mother, indignantly; "make a little room, if you please, we can't see
any thing!"

"What?" said the man, whom she addressed, turning to her his
well-tanned face, with an immense bushy beard, "what! away with you!
we'll not let any one pass. We are his most gracious highness's
lansquenet; and our captain has ordered us not to let one soul of you
go up to the holy altar. _Morbleu!_ I am sorry to swear in the church;
but I say, away with you!"

Staberl of Vienna, who was on the spot, interceded for the little girl,
but would not consent to her mother entering the church. "Come here, my
dear," he called her, "you can see very well here. There; now the
priest is putting the ring on her finger, and joins their hands. If you
will give me a kiss, I'll get you a better place;" and with these
words, without waiting for an answer, he stretched out his hand towards
Barbelle. She screamed aloud, and ran away, followed by her mother, who
vented imprecations on townsfolk in general, and the unmannerly
lansquenet.

CHAPTER XXXI.

At last I hold thee in my arms,
My best beloved, my own!
Bestowed on me from war's alarms,
Preserved for me alone