hey must not desecrate this holy spot with such a crime. I am ready to
go where you will."

'"No, no," cried Lydchen; "you are not like our enemies. You wish us
naught of evil; your heart is with the struggle of a brave people, who
fight but for their homes and Fatherland. Be of us, then; declare that
you are with us. Oh, do this, and these will be your brothers and I your
sister; ay, more than sister ever was."

'"It cannot be; no, never," said I; "it is not when life is in the
balance that fealty can change."

'With difficulty I freed myself from the clasp of her arms, for in her
grief she had thrown herself at my feet, when suddenly we heard the deep
accents of the aged priest, as he stood upon the steps of the altar, and
commanded silence. His tones were those of severity and sternness, and I
could mark that not a murmur was raised as he continued.

'"You are safe," whispered Lydchen; "till to-morrow you are safe; before
that you must be far away."

'The respite of the priest was merely to give me time to prepare for
death, which it was decreed I should suffer the following morning in the
Platz of the village.

'Scarcely had evening begun to fall when Lydchen approached my bed and
deposited a small bundle upon it, whispering gently, "Lose no time; put
on these clothes, and wait for my return."

'The little chapelry where I lay communicated by a small door with the
dwelling of the priest, and by her passing through this I saw that the
father was himself conniving at the plan of my escape. By the imperfect
glimmer of the fading day I could perceive that they were her brother's
clothes she had brought me; the jacket was yet stained with his blood. I
was long in equipping myself, with my single arm, and I heard her voice
more than once calling to me to hasten, ere I was ready.

'At length I arose, and passing through the door entered the priest's
house, where Lydchen, dressed in hat and mantle, stood ready for the
road. As I endeavoured to remonstrate she pressed her hand on my mouth,
and walking on tiptoe led me forward; we emerged into a little garden,
crossing which she opened a wicket that led into the road. There a
peasant was in waiting, who carried a small bundle on his shoulder, and
was armed with the long staff used in mountain travelling. Again, making
a sign for me to be silent, she moved on before me, and soon turning off
the road entered a foot-track in the mountain. The fresh breeze of the
night a