s of
sweet sorrow and lovers' pain.

"'"Ah! Wolfframb," she cried, "what an evil dream has befooled me! How
have I, a foolish, unreasoning, blinded child, abandoned myself to the
snares of the Evil One who was lying in wait to compass my destruction!
Ah! how I have failed in my duty to you! Is it possible that you can
pardon me?"

"'Wolfframb clasped her to his heart, and, for the first time, pressed
burning kisses on her rosy lips. He assured her that she had always
dwelt in his heart, that he had ever been faithful to her in spite of
the powers of evil; that it was she, the lady of his thoughts, alone,
who had been his inspiration in the song with which he vanquished them.

"'"Oh, my beloved!" she said, "let me tell you in what a wonderful
manner you rescued me from the snares of the Wicked One which were set
for me. There came a night, not very long ago, when strange and
terrible ideas took hold upon me. Whether it was bliss or pain that so
powerfully oppressed me that I scarce could breathe, I cannot tell.
But, driven by an impulse which I could not resist, I began to write a
song which was altogether in the 'manner' of my weird master. As I
wrote, I heard a strange music, partly beautiful, partly repulsive and
horrible, which benumbed my senses, and it was as if, instead of the
song, what I had written was some terrible formula, some spell which
the powers of darkness must obey. A wild, terrible form started up; it
clasped me with burning arms, and was carrying me away to the black
abyss. Then a song came shining through the darkness, whose tones had
the mild, soft radiance of the light of stars. At this the dark form
was compelled to loose its clasp of me, yet it stretched its arms
towards me in fury. It could not touch me, but only the song I had been
writing. It clutched that, and plunged screaming with it into the
abyss. It was your song which saved me, the same which you sung to-day
when you won the contest. Now I am wholly yours. My songs are all
faithful love for you, whose inexpressible blissfulness no words have
power to tell."

"'The lovers again fell into each other's arms, and could not cease
talking of the tortures they had undergone, and the bliss of their
reunion.

"'But in the night when Wolfframb overcame Nasias, Mathilda had
distinctly heard, and comprehended--in a dream--the song which
Wolfframb, in the height of his inspired affection, was singing; the
one which he repeated afterwards at