r galloped away with
his master's lifeless body.

In a few minutes more the vicinity of the castle was cleared of all
foes. Night concealed the fugitives, and the trees of the forest spread
their sheltering branches over the sons of the soil. In small
detachments, the conquerors followed the last remnant of the enemy's
troops.

Before the castle, Anton knelt on the ground and supported the head of
the prostrate horseman on his arm. With tears in his eyes, he looked
from the dying man up to his friend, who stood on one side with a group
of sympathizing officers. Their triumph was rendered a mute one, the
peasants surrounding the spot in solemn silence. The motionless form was
slowly carried on their crossed hands to the castle.

The baron stood on the hall steps with his daughter, ready to greet the
welcome guests. As soon as Lenore saw the wounded officer, she rushed
down among the bearers, by whom the body was silently laid at the
baron's feet, and sank to the ground with a scream.

"Who is it?" groaned the blind man, groping in the air. No one answered
him; all drew back in terror.

"Father!" murmured the wounded youth, and a stream of blood gushed from
his mouth.

"My son! my son!" cried the baron, in agony, and his knees sank under
him.

The youth had left his garrison to join the troops which were to be
stationed near his parents. He had succeeded in exchanging into another
regiment, and in accompanying the squadron sent to his father's
assistance. He wished to give his father a happy surprise, and, with the
raising of the siege, he brought them his bleeding breast into their
house, and death into their hearts.

A mournful silence lay upon the high Slavonic castle. The storm had
raged itself to rest; the white blossoms floated silently down from the
great fruit-trees in the fields, and lay pure and spotless on the ground
like a white shroud. Where are ye, airy schemes of the blind man, which
he has so striven, suffered, and sinned to realize? Listen, poor father;
hold your breath and listen. All is still in the castle, still in the
forest, and yet you can not hear the one sound of which you ever thought
amid your parchments and your plans--the heart-throb of your only son,
the first heir of the house of Rothsattel!

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Days of sorrow now passed over the castle, hard to endure by every one
who dwelt within its walls. Disease lurked in the family like canker in
a flower. Since the