ely blue-eyed maiden, with bright golden locks, and a
form so fragile, that it seemed to bend like the lily to the breeze.

She was betrothed to the son of that proud matron to whom she clung,
and the eyes of the mother and the bride sought the beloved, as they
gazed eagerly through the dim apace.

"Do you not see a form approaching there?" asked Judith, pointing
towards the plain.

Aranka drew still closer, that she might see the object pointed out;
her head rested on Judith's shoulder, but she could not discern
anything, for the starry beam of the blue eye cannot pierce the
distance, like the more fiery ray of the black eye.

In a few minutes the form became more distinct, and the timid blush of
love flitted over the young girl's cheek, while a deep flush of anger
mantled on the mother's.

"It is he, my beloved!" murmured Aranka, pressing her small hand on
her heart, as if to still the little flutterer.

"He has no arms!" cried Judith with horror, as she turned away her
head, and covered her eyes with her hand; for, though still indistinct
to others, the gentle girl recognised her lover, and the mother had
seen her son's disgrace.

With slow and uncertain steps the figure approached; his head hung
dejectedly on his breast, and he appeared to move with pain.

On seeing the women assembled in the churchyard, he bent his steps
thither.

They all now recognised Judith's son, and surrounded the mother as he
approached.

The churchyard moat lay between the mother and her son. Unable to
cross it, the young man sank on the ground before it. His clothes were
torn and covered with blood, and his hand endeavoured to conceal a
wound in his breast.

"Where have you left your arms?" cried his mother in a stern voice,
advancing from among the crowd.

He would have replied, that he had left it in his enemy's heart; but
he had not strength to speak, and the words died on his mouth.

"Speak! is the battle lost?"

The youth made a sign of the affirmative.

"And why did you not fall with the rest? Why did you leave the field
for the sun to rise on your disgrace? Why have you come hither?"

The youth was silent.

"Wherefore should you desire to outlive your country? And, if you have
come to be buried here, better far to have sought a grave where it had
been glory to have died--on the battle-field. Away! This churchyard
has no place for you--you can have no part among our dead--leave us,
and deny that you were born h