ine my surprise--I, who had heard nothing but German fall from
her lips?--when in a heavenly contralto she sang a chanson from "La
Fille de Madame Angot," an opera forgotten these ten years!

"_Elle est tellement innocente!_"

She had risen, and she stood there before me with a halo of moonshine
above her head. The hot blood rushed to my ears. Barmaid, Socialist,
or whatever she might be, she was lovable. In a moment I was kissing
her hand, the hand so small, so white, and yet so firm. A thousand
inarticulate words came to my lips--from my heart! Did the hand
tremble? I thought so. But swiftly she drew it from my clasp, all the
joy and gladness gone from her face and eyes.

"No, no!" she cried; "this must not be; it must not be!"

"But I----" I began eagerly.

"You must not say it; I command you. If you speak, Gretchen will be
Gretchen no more. Yes, the King seeks Gretchen; but will you drive her
away from her only haven?" with a choking sound.

"Gretchen, trust me. Shall I go to-morrow? Shall I leave you in
peace?" Somehow I believed myself to be in danger. "Speak!"

There was an interval of stillness, broken only by the beating of
hearts. Then:

"Stay. But speak no word of love; it is not for such as I. Stay and
be my friend, for I need one. Cannot a woman look with favor upon a
man but he must needs become her lover? I shall trust you as I have
trusted other men. And though you fail me in the end, as others have
done, still I shall trust you. Herr, I conspire against the King. For
what? The possession of my heart. All my life I have stood alone, so
alone."

"I will be your friend, Gretchen; I will speak no word of love. Will
that suffice?"

"It is all I ask, dear friend. And now will you leave me?"

"Leave you?" I cried. "I thought you bade me stay?"

"Ah," putting out her hand; "you men do not understand. Sometimes a
woman wishes to be alone when--when she feels that she--she cannot hold
back her tears!"

Gravely I bent over her hand and kissed it. It seemed to me as I let
the hand fall that I had never kissed a woman on the lips. I turned
and went slowly down the path. Once I looked back. I saw something
white lying at the foot of the tree. Heaven knows what a struggle it
was, but I went on. I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her that
I loved her. When I reached the inn I turned again, but I saw nothing.
I sat in my room a long time that night, smoking m