nd ask if you have any further commands for me.'

'I have yet one more request, my dear friend,' answered the merchant.
'A captain of Wallenstein's body guards is quartered in the house of my
mother-in-law at Sagan, who plays the duke of Friedland on a small
scale in the quiet residence of the widow; and, what is still more
unfortunate, woos the favor of my sister-in-law after the fashion of a
wild Tartar. She very naturally rejects the monster, who has already
served under four different masters, has four times changed his
religion, and is now, by accident, a catholic; but the refusal has
brought her no relief, and he only, who knows how much a bad man may
afflict a family upon whom he is quartered, can imagine what the poor
women must suffer. On this account they wish to leave all behind them
and flee to me at Schweidnitz; and after having delivered up your
scholar, you can bring them with you on your return. This writing may
serve as your credential.'

'I beg of you to be especially careful that you suffer no injury on the
way from the marauding soldiers, who render the public roads unsafe,'
said Katharine with anxious solicitude.

'I take with me my faithful old battle-companion,' said Dorn, striking
the hilt of his sword with a glance in which all his former military
spirit shone forth. 'Do not be concerned for me, madam Katharine. We
have a hard frost--I shall let the horses travel at a round pace--and
with God's blessing, I will be here to partake of the christmas supper,
which I should have eaten now, with you and your dear relatives on new
year's eve.'

He raised the sorrowing children, whom even the ingeniously constructed
manger could not console for his departure, one after the other to his
lips, bowed to the others, disappeared with his protege, and the wheels
of his carriage were soon heard rattling over the hard-frozen ground.

CHAPTER II.

It was the evening of the third christmas holiday. The snow-flakes were
merrily whirling about out of doors; and in a well warmed room at Sagan
sat the merchant's widow, Prudentia Rosen, with her daughter, the
lovely Faith. Both of them were industriously winding the fine spun
thread upon the twirling spindles. The impudent captain of the guards
had planted himself in the matron's armchair, at the table, and was
afflicting the poor women by a recital of his terrible warlike deeds,
while he emptied the silver goblet standing b