fe
in battle and his last penny at the gaming table, had never thought of
seriously examining his own soul, battling by his own strength of will
against some secret longing and shunning its cause. On the contrary, from
childhood he had accustomed himself to rely on the protection and aid of
the Virgin and the saints; and when they passed the image with the
ever-burning lamp, where Katterle had just sought and found consolation,
he implored it not to let his bold intrusion into the home of the maiden
he loved bring evil upon her and her sister. He also vowed to the convent
and its saint--which, come what might, should also be his--a rich gift
whenever the Emperor or the gaming table again filled his purse.

The thought of being burdened his whole life long with the reproach of
having made two such charming, innocent creatures miserable seemed
unendurable. He would gladly have given gold and blood to remove it.

It was too late that day, but he resolved to go to the confessional on
the morrow, for absolution had always relieved and lightened his heart.
But how trivial his errors had been! True, the wrong he had now committed
was not a mortal sin, and would hardly impose a severe penance upon him,
yet it burdened him like the most infamous crime. He did not understand
himself, and often wondered why he, reckless Heinz, thus made a mountain
out of a molehill. Yet when, after this reflection, he uttered a sigh of
relief, it seemed as if a voice within commanded him not to think lightly
of what had passed, for on that evening he had ceased to bestow pleasure
on every one, and instead of, as usual, being helpful and agreeable, he
had plunged others who had done him no wrong--nay, perhaps a whole
household, whose daughter had given him the first love of her young
heart-into misery and disgrace. Had he considered the consequences of his
act, he would still be merry Heinz. Then he remembered how, when a boy,
playing with other lads high up among the mountains just as it was
beginning to thaw, he had hurled the work they had finished with so much
toil, a snow man, down the slope, rejoicing with his playfellows over its
swift descent towards the valley, until they noticed with what frightful
speed its bulk increased as it sped over its snowy road, till at last,
like a terrible avalanche, it swept away a herdsman's hut--fortunately an
empty one. Now, also, his heedlessness had set in motion a mass which
constantly rolled onward, and