he world and its vain pleasures,
the hosanna which poured its waves of sound towards him, whilst the eyes
of the woman he loved met his for the second time, seemed to revive the
waning joy of existence. The shout which had greeted the Saviour on his
entry into Jerusalem reached the "called" man like a command from love to
open wide the gate of the heart, and whether he willed it or not, love,
amidst the solemn melody of the hosanna, made a new and joyous entrance
into his grateful soul. But during the Benedictus he was already making
the first attempt to resist this emotion; and whilst Eva, first offering
thanks for the cheering decision, and then earnestly striving to enter
with her whole soul into the sacred service, modestly denied herself the
pleasure of looking across at her lover, Heinz was endeavouring to crush
the hopes which had again mastered the soul resolved on renunciation.

Yet he found the conflict harder than he expected and as, at the close of
the mass, the Dona nobis pacem (grant us peace) began, he joined
beseechingly in the prayer.

It was not granted, for even during the high mass for the soul of his
dearest friend, which also detained the Ortliebs in church, he sought
Eva's glance only too often, but always in vain. Once only, when the Dona
nobis pacem pealed forth again, this time for the prince, his eyes met
those of the woman he loved.

The young Duchess Agnes noticed whither he looked so often, but when
Countess Cordula knelt beside the Ortliebs, cordially returned every
glance of the knight's, and once even nodded slightly to him, the young
Bohemian believed the report that Heinz Schorlin and the countess were
the same as betrothed, and it vexed her--nay, spoiled the whole of the
day which had just begun.

When Heinz left the church Eva's image filled his heart and mind. He went
directly from the sanctuary to his lodgings; but there neither Frau
Barbara, his pretty young hostess, nor Biberli would believe their eyes
or ears, when the former heard in the entry, the latter in the adjoining
room, the lash of a scourge upon naked limbs, and loud groans. Both
sounds were familiar to Barbel through her father, and to Biberli from
the time of penance after his stay in Paris, and his own person.

Heinz Schorlin, certainly for the first time in his life, had scourged
himself.

It was done by the advice of Father Benedictus but, although he followed
the counsel so earnestly that for a long time la