human passions to his mocking mind. Scarce had the
first trump sounded to this dread conflict, when a new actor entered
on the scene. The rumour of so unprecedented an event had not failed to
reach the convent of Bornhofen; and now, two by two, came the sisters of
the holy shrine, and the armed men made way, as with trailing garments
and veiled faces they swept along into the very lists. At that moment
one from amongst them left her sisters with a slow majestic pace, and
paused not till she stood right between the brother foes.

"Warbeck," she said in a hollow voice, that curdled up his dark spirit
as it spoke, "is it thus thou wouldst prove thy love, and maintain thy
trust over the fatherless orphan whom thy sire bequeathed to thy care?
Shall I have murder on my soul?" At that question she paused, and those
who heard it were struck dumb, and shuddered. "The murder of one man by
the hand of his own brother! Away, Warbeck! _I command_."

"Shall I forget thy wrongs, Leoline?" said Warbeck.

"Wrongs! they united me to God! they are forgiven, they are no more.
Earth has deserted me, but Heaven hath taken me to its arms. Shall I
murmur at the change? And thou, Otho"--here her voice faltered--"thou,
does thy conscience smite thee not? Wouldst thou atone for robbing me of
hope by barring against me the future? Wretch that I should be, could
I dream of mercy, could I dream of comfort, if thy brother fell by thy
sword in my cause? Otho, I have pardoned thee, and blessed thee
and thine. Once, perhaps, thou didst love me; remember how I loved
thee,--cast down thine arms."

Otho gazed at the veiled form before him. Where had the soft Leoline
learned to command? He turned to his brother; he felt all that he had
inflicted upon both; and casting his sword upon the ground, he knelt at
the feet of Leoline, and kissed her garment with a devotion that votary
never lavished on a holier saint.

The spell that lay over the warriors around was broken; there was one
loud cry of congratulation and joy. "And thou, Warbeck?" said Leoline,
turning to the spot where, still motionless and haughty, Warbeck stood.

"Have I ever rebelled against thy will?" said he, softly; and buried the
point of his sword in the earth. "Yet, Leoline, yet," added he, looking
at his kneeling brother, "yet art thou already better avenged than by
this steel!"

"Thou art! thou art!" cried Otho, smiting his breast; and slowly, and
scarce noting the crowd that fell ba