n
gathering some wood and starting a fire. 'Oh, how good! Oh, how warm!'
said she to the flickering flames. Her teeth chattered. We hoped that,
after she was well warmed, she would be able to go farther with us. She
sat there quietly, her elbows resting on her knees, her face covered
with both her hands.

"'Wolfgang, keep me with you,' she said suddenly. 'Be good to me; you
are his brother's child; keep me with you--do not leave me. Tell me how
many years it is since he died? O Ernst, you are so happy that I cannot
weep. Why are you glad? Oh, if I could but weep! You have been away so
long, and why do you not return? What shall I do in this world without
you! Mother, Ernst is with you; you do not need him; send him to me--he
is mine. I have nothing more in this world. My dog is dead, too. My
little red stockings--oh, I was so happy. Martella is lost. Hunt for
her in the woods where the wild honey grows. Do you hear the cuckoo?
Cuckoo!'

"She stared vacantly into the flames; then she cried: 'My eyes burn
like fire! I cannot weep. O Ernst! Ernst!'

"She tore the satchel from her girdle, tore the letter of pardon into
fragments, and cried: 'Everything shall burn just as my eyes do. Come
here, your Highness, and see how your handwriting burns.'

"Dawn was breaking. Through the open door, we saw some men approaching
with a litter.

"'Here is Herr Rautenkron,' said Ikwarte. Martella rushed out and saw
the men carrying Ernst's body. She rushed towards them, sank beside the
litter and cried: 'My Ernst! You are not dead!'

"A fearful shriek, which rang out far over the barren fields, was
forced from her tortured breast. She clasped her hand to her heart
while a flood of tears streamed over her cheeks. Suddenly she broke
down and sank on the body of Ernst. A physician, who had come with the
men, laid his hand on her heart. It was still: he listened for her
breathing; it had ceased.

"'My child! my child!' cried Rautenkron; she heard nothing more."

So ended Wolfgang's story. His firm hand clasped mine, and I felt as if
that alone held me there among the living.

"And what became of Rautenkron?" I was able to ask after a long
interval.

"He had suddenly become an old man, with hollow cheeks and lustreless
eyes. He sat on the ground, stared at the corpse, and did not speak a
word. It rained in torrents. Every one endeavored to induce Rautenkron
to seek the shelter of the hut, but he did not answer. At last he
arose, p