courage,
and the most forlorn felt the romance of that bivouac under the summer
sky.

Dawn was reddening the east when a welcome whistle broke up the camp.
Every one hurried to the railway, but Helen paused to gather a handful
of blue forget-me-nots, saying to Hoffman, who waited with her wraps
on his arm,--

"It has been a happy night, in spite of the danger and discomfort. I
shall not soon forget it; and take these as a souvenir."

He smiled, standing bare-headed in the chilly wind, for his hat was
lost, his coat torn, hair dishevelled, and one hand carelessly bound
up in his handkerchief. Helen saw these marks of the night's labors
and perils for the first time, and as soon as they were seated desired
to see his hand.

"It is nothing,--a scratch, a mere scratch, I give you my word,
mademoiselle," he began, but Wilhelm unceremoniously removed the
handkerchief, showing a torn and bleeding hand which must have been
exquisitely painful.

Helen turned pale, and with a reproachful glance skilfully bound it up
again, saying, as she handed a silken scarf to Wilhelm,--

"Make of that a sling, please, and put the poor hand in it. Care must
be taken, or harm will come of it."

Hoffman submitted in bashful silence, as if surprised and touched by
the young lady's interest. She saw that, and added gratefully,--

"I do not forget that you saved my life, though you seem to have done
so. My uncle will thank you better than I can."

"I already have my reward, mademoiselle," he returned, with a
respectful inclination and a look she could neither understand nor
forget.

III

AMY'S ADVENTURE

The excitement and suspense of the major and Amy can be imagined when
news of the accident reached them. Their gratitude and relief were
intense when Helen appeared next morning, with the faithful Hoffman
still at his post, though no longer able to disguise the fact that he
was suffering from his wound.

When the story had been told, Karl was put under the surgeon's care,
and all remained at Heidelberg for several days to rest and recover.

On the afternoon of the last day the major and young ladies drove off
to the castle for a farewell view. Helen began to sketch the great
stone lion's head above the grand terrace, the major smoked and
chatted with a party of English artists whom he had met, and Amy,
with a little lad for a guide, explored the old castle to her heart's
content.

The sun set, and twilight began to fall whe