girl smiled, rose, kissed the hand of her grandmother, and
then bounded away like a fawn.

"Poor child!" muttered the old woman, when alone; "she must not die of
a broken heart. Love charms, did she say! Yes--I have them for fools;
but the love charm I shall use to give her joy is poison. The
betrothed bride of the sexton of St. Hubert's lies ill of an unknown
malady. The physicians cannot do her good, for she is sick of a
wounded heart. To-night the sexton of St. Hubert's, who has faith in
my skill, comes to seek a remedy. He shall have one. Does he think to
spurn the poor gypsy girl? He is mistaken. He plighted his troth to
her in the silence of the forest; they broke a piece of gold across a
running brook; they swore truth and fidelity! One has broken the oath,
but it shall be sworn anew. None but Myra shall wed the sexton of St.
Hubert's!"

CHAPTER III.

RETRIBUTION.

It was a fierce and stormy night. The wind howled around the houses of
Redwood, and wherever a shutter had lost its fastening, it flapped to
and fro with a frequent and alarming sound. The rain, too, descended
in torrents, and flooded the streets of the village, while ever and
anon heavy peals of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning increased
the terror of the night. In the house of Farmer Ellis a few persons
were assembled to witness the bridal of the sexton of St. Hubert's.
The bridegroom was as one excited by wine, for there was a wild
radiance in his eyes and an unwonted smile upon his lips, and he
occasionally gave utterance to some jest, and when it failed of
producing the expected mirth, his own laugh sounded hollow and
strange. The bride, too, so pearly pale, in her white dress, with
white roses in her hair, seemed like the bride of Corinth in the
German tale. A few of the guests, huddled anxiously together,
whispered among themselves, "It is a churchyard bridal."

Still the cake and wine went round, and the strange laugh of the
bridegroom was more frequent. The night wore on, and the arrival of
the clergyman was prolonged far beyond the expected time. At length he
came, and the ceremony was about to take place, when the bride
suddenly sank in the arms of her companions. They raised her, and
applied the usual remedies resorted to in cases of fainting, but the
vital spark itself had fled.

In the depth of a stormy night, the sexton of St. Hubert's sought the
queen of the gypsies. He was mounted on an active horse, and
accompanied