it gladly, Hugo. I fear it. I
saw it in the eyes of that man Otho von Reuss. But _only_ to die will be
easy, with you near by. For I love you, Hugo. And I could just say a
prayer, and then--well, and then--Do not cry, Hugo--why, then you would
put me to sleep, even as of old you did in the Red Tower!

"Nay, nay, dear love! You must not do so. This is not like my Hugo. See,
_I_ do not cry. Do you remember when you took me up and laid me on your
bed, and our father came and looked? You said I was your little wife. So
I was, even though I denied it, and now I can trust you, my husband. I
have never been aught else but your little wife, you see--not in my
heart, not in my heart of hearts!

"I have been proud with you, Hugo--spoken unkind things. For love, you
know, is like that. It hurts that which it would die for. But now you
will know, once for all, that I love you. For death tests all. And you
_will_ help me. You will not cry then, Hugo--not then, when we walk, you
and I, by the shores of the great sea. You will only send me a little
voyage by myself, as you used to make me go to the well in the
court-yard, to teach me not to be frightened!

"And then you will be with me when I go. You will watch me; soon, soon
you will come after me. Yes, I am glad, Hugo--so glad. For--bend down
your ear, Hugo--I will confess. Your little girl is such a coward. She
is afraid of the dark. But it will not be dark--and it will not be long,
and it will be sure. If my love stand by, I shall not fear. And, after
all, it is but a little thing to do for my love, when I love him so."

What I said, or what I did, I know not. But when I came a little to
myself, I found my head on my knees, and Helene soothing and petting me,
as if I had been a child that had fallen down and hurt itself.

"I would have been a good wife to you, Hugo; I had thought it all out. At
first I would have been such an ignorant little house-keeper, and you
would have needed--oh, such great patience with me! But so willing, so
ready, Hugo! And how I should have listened for your foot! Do you know, I
used to know it as it came across the court-yard at Plassenburg. But I
could not run and meet you then. I could only slip behind the
window-lattice and throw you a kiss. But when I was indeed your wife, how
I should have flown to meet you!"

I think I cried out here for very agony.

"Hush, Hugo!" she said. "Hush, lad, and listen. There are stairs up
aloft--I saw them in a