tamp, who visits workmen's societies for the purpose of denouncing to
the police any speaker that may not happen to suit him. I have the
honor to wish you a good night."

He raised his hat with mock respect and pointed out the path across the
courtyard, but did not follow, until the stealthy steps of Lorinser,
who in helpless rage could only exclaim, "we shall meet again," had
died away in the hall leading through the front of the house. Then he
looked up at Christiane's lighted windows. "This time at least I did no
half way work!" he said in a well satisfied tone. "She will thank me
for it some day. That singular woman is a whole-hearted creature."

If he could only have seen what the object or his adoration was doing
in her lonely room! After the two men went out, she had hastily, as if
to re-consecrate a sanctuary that had been profaned by evil spirits,
taken from her bureau a small carved frame containing a photograph, and
placed it like an altar picture on the table, so that it was brightly
illumined by the lamp. Then she drew up a chair, sat down before it,
and gazed at it in silent devotion. But her stooping posture becoming
uncomfortable at last, she glided down from the chair upon the floor,
and knelt, with her chin resting on the table and her eyes fixed with
enthusiastic fervor on the little card. The pictured face gazed quietly
into vacancy seeming to deprecate homage, and it bore the familiar
features of--our Edwin.

CHAPTER V.

The following day was cloudy and dismal. When at the appointed hour
Edwin arrived at the Thiergarten, he found it completely deserted. The
autumn rain was trickling drearily down, the trees, which had hitherto
still retained something of their summer aspect, now hung their heads
and seemed to realize that the sunny illusion could no more be retained
than their yellow leaves which were beaten down by the rain drops. Very
dreary looked the gold-fish pond, its surface bestrewn with withered
foliage, through which here and there a spot of deeper crimson
betokened the presence of some fish that snapped at a water-fly and
then indignantly retreated to the bottom again. Even the statue of
Venus looked as mournful in the falling rain as if she were reflecting
with horror that the time would soon come when a mantle of snow would
rest on her bare shoulders, and a crow, pecking at her diadem, scream
the harsh song of the Northern winter into her ear.