nce of his goodness,
and she was glad to think she had it in her power to prove her
gratitude by deeds. She could not give him a present, but she could
tell him of the dangers that threatened his property from the large
undertaking of the company, and she promised herself to use all her
influence to make the best terms for Ivan in case he would consent to
arrange matters with his gigantic rival.

Yes, it was indeed the vain desire of doing good that had brought
Eveline to Bondathal. She had arranged how and where she would have
her first meeting with Ivan.

The notabilities and proprietors of the neighborhood had been invited
in the name of the prince to the banquet, which was to inaugurate the
opening of the works. No one could refuse such an invitation. It was
true that when Eveline had proposed to the Abbe Samuel that he should
undertake the office of intermediary, and call on his learned
colleague Behrend, and bring him with him to the banquet, the abbe had
exclaimed not for all the world would he venture to propose such a
thing as that Behrend should wait upon their excellencies. And when he
said this he knew very well what he was saying.

To return to the church door. As Peter Saffran stood stock-still,
gazing after the vanishing figure of his former betrothed, he felt
some one tap him on the shoulder; turning round, he saw standing
behind him Felix Kaulmann. Peter's face went deadly white, partly with
fear, more from inward rage. Felix, however, laughed carelessly, with
the indifference of a great man, to what was, in his opinion, only a
good joke.

"Good-day, fellow. Mind you come to the dinner," he said, as he
followed the prince into the church.

Peter Saffran remained gaping at the noble gentlemen as they got out
of their carriages, and when the crowd began to move into the church
he followed in the stream. He made his way into the darkest corner,
before the shrine of a saint, knelt down, with both his hands laid
upon the wall and his head upon his folded arms, and there he made a
vow--an awful, terrible vow. Those who saw him in his kneeling
attitude, with bent head, imagined he had been struck at last by
grace, and was repenting of his sins. When he had finished his
prayer, or his curse, he got up quickly, and, without waiting for the
end of the splendid ceremonial, hastened out of the church, casting a
wild look behind him as he went, for he imagined that the saint in the
shrine was pointing her fin