and drawn lips
betrayed how terribly she was suffering.

"My dearest little mama!" exclaimed Marie, hastening toward the kneeling
woman, and trying to lift her from the floor, "what is the matter? What
has happened?"

"Don't touch me," moaned the baroness. "Don't come near me. I am a
murderess. I murdered her who called me mother."

She held the ivory locket toward Marie, and added: "See, this is what
she was like when I deserted her--my little daughter Amelie!"

"Your daughter?" repeated Marie, wonderingly. "You have been married?
Are you a widow?"

"I am."

Katharina now held toward the young girl the portrait M. Cambray had
given her. "And this," she explained in a hollow tone, "is what she is
like now--now, when I wanted her to come to me."

"Good heaven!" ejaculated Marie, gazing in terror at the miniature, "she
is dead?"

"Yes--murdered--as you, too, will be if you stay with me! You must
fly--fly at once!"

"Katharina!" interposed the young girl, "why do you speak so?"

"I say that you must leave me. Go--go at once! Go down to the parsonage,
and ask Herr Mercatoris to give you shelter. Tell him to clothe you in
rags; and when you hear the tramp of horses, hide yourself, and don't
venture from your concealment until they are gone. I, too, am going away
from here."

"But why may not I come with you?" asked Marie, in a troubled tone.

"Where I go you cannot accompany me. I am going to steal through the
lines of Ludwig's camp."

"You are going to Ludwig?" interrupted the young girl.

"Yes, to deliver into his hands the casket containing your belongings.
After that I--I don't know what will become of me."

"Katharina! Don't frighten me so! Do you imagine that Ludwig will cease
to love you when he learns you are a widow, and that you had a
daughter?"

"Oh, no; he will not hate me because I had a daughter," returned
Katharina, shaking her head sadly, "but because my wickedness destroyed
her."

"Don't talk so, Katharina," again expostulated Marie.

"Why, don't you see that she is dead? Look at these closed eyes, the
white face! Ask these closed lips to open and tell you that I did not
murder her!"

"Katharina, this is not true! Your enemies have told you this to grieve
you. Look at these two pictures! There is not the least resemblance
between them. This pale one is not your daughter. He who told you so
lied cruelly."

Katharina sighed mournfully.

"He who told me so does not lie. It was you