mained true to it in every emergency, that circumstance should,
as I think, honor me in your eyes.'

'_Honor!_' cried the counsellor angrily. '_You_ dare to talk of honor,
_you!_'

'What mean you by that? 'asked Arwed with vehemence.

'Where were you on the evening of the king's funeral solemnities?'
thundered the father.

'With Georgina,' answered he, not without great astonishment at the
question.

'The body of Goertz,' said the counsellor, with fierce energy, 'was on
that very night stolen from the place of execution. You, perhaps, can
tell how it happened.'

'I find it very natural,' answered Arwed, 'that those who loved the
unhappy man, and are firmly convinced of the injustice of his
condemnation, should, at least, have borne off his remains from the
unworthy resting place in which he was left by the malice of his
enemies.'

'And if,' proceeded the counsellor, in a slow, cutting tone, 'if a
Swedish officer had commanded this nocturnal expedition, what fate do
you think would await him under the present government?'

Arwed, by this question, perceiving with a secret shudder that his
father knew all, remained silent.

'Dishonorable dismission!' sternly exclaimed the counsellor; 'and
possibly, as an especial mercy, imprisonment for life!'

'If the senate require only my confession to enable it to pass the
sentence,' cried Arwed with violence, 'you may be the bearer of that
confession to it. I am too proud to deny what my heart impelled me to
do.'

The father stood a long time looking at his son with powerful emotion.
'Yes!' he finally broke forth, 'yes, you are a Gyllenstierna! With our
failings you unite all the virtues of our family. Holding fast that
which has been once chosen--noble even in our errors--so were we
always. And so much the deeper is my regret that so many good qualities
must be forever lost to the country.'

'From these expressions,' said Arwed, 'I must infer that you bring me
already the decision of my fate. If so, speak it without hesitation. I
am prepared to receive it.'

'The queen was beside herself,' answered the counsellor, 'when she
heard of your last misdeed; and had she obeyed the first suggestions of
her rage, you would now have been in chains, awaiting a decision
involving life or death.'

'Little souls are generally cruel,' observed Arwed.

'As a father I pleaded for my disobedient son,' continued the
counsellor; 'and it is not strange that the man, whose duty it wi