must still live, so that I can tell you that I am
lost if you die without having forgiven me.

The queen gladly gave way to these thoughts, for they gradually
lightened the burden which had so long exerted a depressing influence
upon her.

"Have we much further to go?" she asked Walpurga.

Fear again seized her. If Irma were dead! If it were too late for the
meeting that would free them both!--She pressed her hand to her
throbbing heart, as if it too must cease to beat when the heart up
there had ceased to live. In her mind's eye, she beheld Irma, as if
glorified and transfigured, while she herself seemed so pitifully
small.

"We'll soon be there," said Walpurga.

A voice above was heard, calling:

"Walpurga!"

The sound was echoed again and again from the mountains.

"That's my husband," said Walpurga to the queen, and, in an equally
loud voice, she called out:

"Hansei!"

He answered again from above.

Hansei drew near, and when he saw the grand gentlemen, the ladies on
horseback, and the liveried servants, he took off his hat and passed
his hand over his eyes, as if to satisfy himself that he saw aright.

"How is it with her?" asked Walpurga.

"She's still alive, but she won't last long. I left about an hour ago,
and who knows what may have happened since then? The doctor's with her,
though."

"We can't ride any farther," said the inspector. The queen and Paula
alighted. Sixtus and the servants followed, while they climbed the last
hill.

"That's the queen there, in the light silk shawl," said Walpurga,
addressing Hansei with a significant gesture.

"It's all the same to me," he answered. "Our Irmgard's better than any
of them. What matters the queen? When death comes we're pretty much the
same all around. We'll all of us have to die one of these days, and
then it won't matter what we've been in these few years."

Bestowing a hurried glance on Hansei, and beckoning Paula to remain
behind, the queen hastened forward. She was unattended, but yet, at her
right and her left, before and behind her, were the spirits of fear and
of deliverance. Fear cried: "Irma is dead; you are too late--" and it
seemed as if this would arrest her steps and deprive her of her breath.
Deliverance cried: "Hurry on--why loiter? You are free, you bring
freedom with you, and shall gain freedom for yourself."

She put forth her hands, as if to wave off the powers that were
contending within and about her.

Fear gained