d gipsy looked over the wall of
the garden; she was now without a mask, and her face betrayed agony and
repentance.

"Why don't you part them?" she cried to Tausdorf's people, wringing her
hands.

"It is forbidden to us," replied the faithful Martin sadly.

Tausdorf cast a glance from the combat to the place whence the
well-known voice came; and, taking advantage of this, Francis lunged
fiercely at his heart, but the thrust did not succeed.

"My life, then, is intended?" cried Tausdorf indignantly, and he cut
his adversary over the right hand. As the arm sank, his sword went into
the breast of Francis, who fell to earth.

"Gracious Heavens! such was not my purpose," exclaimed Tausdorf, when
he saw the blood flowing; and, sheathing his sword, he gazed for a
while with looks of compassion on his fallen adversary. Then turning to
his servant, he bade him hasten for his carriage:--"I feel myself too
weak for long and speedy riding, and this brooks no delay."

Heubert and Schmidt hurried back to the town.

"By God's holy word it was not my purpose!" repeated Tausdorf; and
sighing "Poor Althea!" he followed his people.

While this was passing, the gipsy had quitted the wall, opened a little
gate in it, and approached Francis, who lay in death-throes on the
ground. Having come up to him, she shook the auburn locks from her
head, and the long brown hair fell about her face as she put on a
withered coronet of roses.

"Do you know me, Francis? Do you know this bridal ornament?" she asked,
with a mixture of grief and anger.

"Agatha!" sighed Francis; and with difficulty turned away his head,
that he might not see the fearful apparition.

"I have revenged your crime," she exclaimed, "and by a greater crime.
But there is no joy in vengeance; the grave knows no hatred, and I
forgive you. Your guilt is atoned; and you may appear confidently
before the throne of Heaven. Pray for me yonder, that I too may be
forgiven when I have ended here in penitence and agony!"

She rushed away. Again he sighed!--Again!--and his soul fleeted with
the last beams of the setting sun, and darkness and the silence of eve
were upon the blood-besprinkled earth.

* * * * *

Althea was reclining in the window and impatiently expecting the
knight's return, when at length she saw Martin and Schmidt come running
breathlessly through the Peter's-gate. An evil foreboding thrilled
through her bosom. She called ou