oom and drew back
a large linen cloth from a bed, disclosing the body of a fine boy
between eight and nine years old. He lay with closed eyes and little
hands peacefully folded on his breast, so quiet that any one might have
thought it was only sleep.

'We found him with his little hands folded just like that,' said the
miller's wife, bursting into tears. 'His soul has gone to heaven, I am
sure.'

'Ah! you can see he did not suffer much,' said Conrad softly, 'and that
is something to be thankful for. Whether the two soldiers were
Imperialists or Swedes, they might have tied the little fellow to a
barn-door and practised at him with their pistols, or tortured him in
fifty cruel ways, as they have often done to others. My mistress
always says it is a happy thing for those who rest peacefully in their
quiet graves. But what have you done with the bodies of the two wicked
men?'

At this question a sudden change came over the miller's wife. A bright
colour rose to her pale face, her eyes sparkled, and her hands clenched
themselves tightly, as her trembling lips gave utterance to the words,
'They lie out there, behind the barn, waiting till the executioner
comes to bury them.'

In the meantime the room had filled with country people, who had
strolled into the mill on hearing that the child's coffin had arrived.

'H'm!' said the young carpenter; 'are you quite sure the dragoons I met
will not come here and find that the two murderers were comrades of
theirs? If they did, your brave deed might cost you dear.'

A smile was the woman's only reply, but a peasant answered for her:
'Dragoons, did you say, youngster? What countrymen were they?'

'Well,' replied Conrad, 'you can't always tell a bird by its feathers,
especially if you don't happen to be a bird fancier. Whether they were
Saxons, Imperialists, or Swedes, I do not know. The soldier that tried
to kill me spoke good German, and he wore a blue doublet with bright
yellow facings.'

'God help us!' cried the peasant. 'They are the Swedes, sure enough; I
have known the blue doublets ever since 1639, the year they did so much
harm to Erbisdorf, when General Bannier made his attack on Freiberg.'

'But come,' said Conrad, trying to rally his own courage, 'there's
plenty of blue cloth and yellow facings in the world besides what is on
Swedish uniforms; and as I told you before, that dragoon could swear in
downright good German.'

'The Swedes! the Swedes!' was