"Yes, I know all that. But the loss is not irreparable."

"Pardon me, madam. My father, though reputed wealthy, is unable to
furnish me with a similar sum, even if I were base enough to accept it
at his hands."

"But if some friend were to step forward."

"Alas! I know none."

"Mr. Walstein," said the lady, "I am rich. A loan of the requisite
amount would not affect me in the least."

"O madam!" cried the young man, "if you would indeed save me by such
generosity, you would be an angel of mercy."

"What is the amount of your loss?" inquired the lady, calmly, as she
unlocked her desk.

"Three thousand ducats," answered Ernest. "But I can give you no
security for the payment."

"Your note of hand is sufficient," said the lady, handing the young
man a package of notes. "Please to count those, and see if the sum is
correct. Here are writing materials."

Ernest did as he was bid--counted the money, and then sat down at the
desk.

"Write at my dictation," said the lady.

Ernest took up a pen and commenced.

"The date," said the lady.

Ernest wrote it.

"Received of Anna Von Berlingen the sum of three thousand ducats."

Ernest wrote and repeated, "three thousand ducats."

"In consideration whereof, I promise to marry the aforesaid Anna Von
Berlingen."

"To marry you?" exclaimed Ernest.

"Ay--to marry me!" said the lady. "Am I deformed--am I ugly--am I
poor?"

"I cannot do it--you know not the reason that induces me to refuse."

"Then go home to your father and confess your guilt."

Ernest reflected a few moments. He could not go home to his father
with the frightful tale. It was a question between suicide and
marriage--he signed the paper.

"Now then, baron," said the widow to herself, as she carefully secured
the promise, "you cannot say that you broke the heart of Anna by your
cruelty. Take the money, Ernest," she added aloud; "go and purchase
your commission."

Ernest obeyed. His dreams of yesterday morning had all been dissipated
by his own act; he felt a degraded and broken-spirited criminal. He
had sold himself for gold.

CHAPTER II.

"Here comes Captain Ernest!" cried a youthful voice. And a beautiful,
blue-eyed girl of nineteen stood at the garden gate of a pretty farm
house, watching the approach of a horseman, who, gayly attired in a
hussar uniform, was galloping up the road. At her shout of delight, a
sturdy old gray-haired man came forth and stood beside her.

"Captain Er