a friend, and that he overwhelmed the noble prisoner with kind
attention."

Elise breathed more freely. "It was with the consent and by the wish
of the king that my father was kind to the captive Russian general."

"And was it also by the wish of the king that Gotzkowsky's daughter
accepted the homage of the Russian general's adjutant?"

A slight shudder ran through Elise's whole frame, and her cheeks
became crimson.

"Ah," cried Bertram sadly, "I see you understand me. You will not tell
me the name of your lover--let me tell it to you. It is Feodor von
Brenda."

"No, no!" cried Elise, looking around in alarm, and fearful lest some
treacherous ear had heard the dangerous secret.

"Yes," said Bertram, "his name is Feodor von Brenda; he serves as a
colonel in the Russian army; he fights against our brothers and our
king; he is the enemy of our country."

"You have no pity on me," cried Elise, wringing her hands, her eyes
streaming with tears. "You wish to kill me with your cruel words."

"I wish to show to the daughter of the noblest and truest patriot, I
wish to point out to the young, inexperienced, credulous maiden, to
my sister, that she stands at the edge of an abyss. I wish to open her
eyes that she may be aware of the danger which threatens her. I wish
to draw her back from this abyss which threatens to engulf her."

"It is too late," said Elise, rising proudly and drying her tears.
"I know it all, Bertram; I stand at the edge of this abyss with open
eyes, conscious of the danger; but I will not, cannot draw back, for
my heart holds me fast."

Elise took leave of him with a sad smile, and hurried rapidly down
the dark walk which led to the retired and unfrequented parts of the
garden.

Bertram looked after her until her pink dress disappeared behind the
dark foliage of the hedge.

"She loves him," murmured he, letting his head drop upon his breast,
"it is certain she loves him."

* * * * *

CHAPTER IV.

FEODOR VON BRENDA.

Elise directed her hasty steps toward the now retired parts of
the garden. She longed to be alone. Her soul, agitated by painful
emotions, required silence and solitude, in order to settle down again
gently to rest and peace. Slowly, and with bowed head, she traversed
the dark, silent garden-walks. Her thoughts wandered afar off, and
she sought some little comfort, some relief from the privations of the
present, in the sweet and bliss