t must indeed be a
delight to take the field for the Church and against her foes!" While
speaking, he paid the reckoning and went out with Biberli.

The moon was now pouring her silver beams, with full radiance, over the
quiet street, the linden in front of the Ortlieb house, and its lofty
gable roof. Only a single room in the spacious mansion was still
lighted, the bow-windowed one occupied by the two sisters.

Heinz, without heeding Biberli's renewed protest, looked upward,
silently imploring Eva's pardon for having misjudged her even a moment.
His gaze rested devoutly on the open window, behind which a curtain was
stirring. Was it the night breeze that almost imperceptibly raised and
lowered it, or was her own dear self concealed behind it?

Just at that moment he suddenly felt his servant's hand on his arm, and
as he followed his horror-stricken gaze, a chill ran through his own
veins. From the heavy door of the house, which stood half open, a
white-robed figure emerged with the solemn, noiseless footfall of a
ghost, and advanced across the courtyard towards him.

Was it a restless spirit risen from its grave at the midnight hour,
which must be close at hand? Through his brain, like a flash of
lightning, darted the thought that Eva had spoken to him of her invalid
mother. Had she died? Was her wandering soul approaching him to drive
him from the threshold of the house which hid her endangered child?

But no!

The figure had stopped before the door and now, raising its head, gazed
with wide eyes upward at the moon, and--he was not mistaken--it was
no spectre of darkness; it was she for whom every pulse of his heart
throbbed--Eva!

No human creature had ever seemed to him so divinely fair as she in
her long white night-robe, over which fell the thick waves of her
light hair. The horror which had seized him yielded to the most ardent
yearning. Pressing his hand upon his throbbing heart, he watched her
every movement. He longed to go forward to meet her, yet a supernatural
spell seemed to paralyse his energy. He would sooner have dared clasp in
his arms the image of a beautiful Madonna than this embodiment of pure,
helpless, gracious innocence.

Now she herself drew nearer, but he felt as if his will was broken, and
with timid awe he drew back one step, and then another, till the chain
stopped him.

Just at that moment she paused, stretched out her white arm with a
beckoning gesture, and again turned towards