es, to the Professor, "I will
claim your promised introduction to the lieutenant. Till then,
farewell!"

"Promise me, then, my dear Julius," rejoined his host, "that you will
give us your company to-morrow evening. After so trying a spectacle, a
bowl of punch, and the society of four friends, will recruit and cheer
you."

The students successively grasped his hand, and cordially urged him to
comply. Overcome by this unexpected sympathy, the agitated youth could
not restrain his tears, and in a voice tremulous with emotion, he said,
"I shall never forget your kindness, and, if I know my heart, I shall
prove myself not unworthy of it. If in my power, I will join your
friendly circle to-morrow night; but"--he hesitatingly added--"I have
never yet faced an execution, and I know not how far such strong
excitement may unfit me for society."

The Professor and his friends accompanied him to the street, where they
again shook hands and separated.

* * * * *

On the following evening the three students were again assembled in the
Professor's study, and the conversation turned more upon their new
friend and his interesting narrative, than upon the tragedy of that
morning. The Professor told them that Julius had called early, and been
introduced by him to the lieutenant, since which he had not seen or
heard of him. One of the students said, that his curiosity to observe
the deportment of their mysterious friend had led him early to the
ground, where he had seen Julius standing, with folded arms, and pale as
death, within a few feet of the scaffold; but that, unable to subdue his
own loathing of the approaching catastrophe, he had left the ground
before the arrival of the criminal.

An hour elapsed in momentary expectation of the young student's arrival,
but he came not. The conversation gradually dropped into monosyllables,
and the Professor could no longer disguise his anxiety, when a gentle
tap was heard, like that of the preceding night, and without any
previous sound of approaching footsteps. "Come in!" cheerfully shouted
the relieved Professor, but the door was not unclosed. Again he called,
but vainly as before. Then starting from his chair, he opened the door,
but discovered no one. The students, who also fancied they had heard a
gentle knock, looked at each other in silent amazement; and the
warm-hearted Professor, unable to reason down his boding fears,
determined to seek Julius at h