on, the night-breeze fanning their cheeks and waving
back their raven curls.

Moritz raised their clasped hands, and gazed at the starry heaven.

"We lift them up unto Thee, O God. Thou hast heard my oath, O Eternal
Spirit, who dwellest among the stars; receive it, and bless the woman I
love!"

"Receive also my oath, O my Maker. Regard the man to whom I have sworn
eternal fidelity, bless him, and bless me. Let us live in love and die
in constancy."

Moritz responded, "Amen, my beloved, amen!"

They embraced each other fervently. Onward rolled the carriage through
the tranquil, blissful night. Oh why cannot these steeds borrow wings
from the night-wind? Why cannot the soaring spirit bear aloft its
earthly tenement? With divine joy and heavenly confidence you gaze at
the stars. You smilingly interchange thoughts of the blissful future,
whilst dire misfortune approaches, and will soon seize you in its
poisonous grasp! Do you not hear it? Does not the echo of swift-prancing
steeds ring in your ears? Do you not hear the shrieking and calling
after you?

They listen only to the voice of tenderness speaking in their hearts,
and would that the solemn quiet of this dialogue might not be broken by
a loud word from their lips.

The post-horn sounded! They halted at a lonely house near the highway.
It is the station. Change horses! There is not a light to be seen.
Three times the postilion blew a pealing blast ere they could awake the
inmates. The window was at last opened, and a sleepy, complaining voice
questioned the number of horses and the distance of the next post.

Slowly they were brought forward, and still more slowly were they
attached to the carriage, and all arranged. What matters it? The night
is lovely, and like a dream it seems to remain under the starry heavens,
spread out like a canopy above them.

Does not your heart tell you that sorrow strides on like the storm? Do
you not hear the voices still shrieking after you?

The postilion mounted his horse, and again the trumpet pealed forth
its merry air, and was answered with a shout of triumph from the swift
pursuers.

Marie raised her head from Philip's shoulder. "What was it? Did you not
hear it?"

"What, my beloved, what should I hear? Do the stars salute you? Do the
angels greet their sister upon earth?"

"Hark! there it is again! Do you not hear it? Listen! does it not seem
as if one called 'Halt! halt!'"

"Yes, truly, I hear it now also! What