ught not to grudge
it to her. Only I dread the last hour, and still more the long eternity
which will follow it, for the good, patient woman entered the snare of
the Satanic Protestant doctrine, and will not hear of taking the holy
sacrament."

Wolf begged him to admit him at once, but Blomberg declared that, after
the attack of apoplexy which she had recently had, one thing and another
might happen if she should so unexpectedly see the man to whom her whole
heart clung. Wolf would do better first to surprise the girl upstairs,
who had no suspicion of his presence. He, Blomberg, must look after the
old woman now. He would carry those things--he pointed to the parcels
which the boys had left--into the young nobleman's old room. Ursel had
always kept it ready for his return, as though she expected him daily.
This suited Wolf, only he insisted upon having his own way about the
articles he had brought, and took them upstairs with him.

He would gladly have greeted the faithful nurse of his childhood at
once, yet it seemed like a fortunate dispensation that, through the old
man's delay below, his wish to have his first meeting with the woman he
loved without witnesses should be fulfilled.

CHAPTER IV.

In spite of the darkness and the zigzag turns of the stairs, Wolf was so
familiar with every corner of the old house that he did not even need to
grope his way with his hand.

He found the door of the Blomberg lodgings open. Putting down in the
anteroom whatever might be in his way while greeting Barbara, and
carrying the roll of velvet under his arm and a little box in his
pocket, he entered the chamber which the old man called his artist
workshop. It was in total darkness, but through the narrow open door in
the middle of the left wall one could see what was going on in Barbara's
little bow-windowed room. This was quite brightly lighted, for she was
ironing and crimping ruffs for the neck, small lace handkerchiefs, and
cuffs.

The light required for this purpose was diffused by a couple of tallow
candles and also by the coals which heated the irons.

As she bent over the glow, it shone into her beautiful face and upon her
magnificent fair hair, which rippled in luxuriant confusion about her
round head or fell in thick waves to her hips. The red kerchief which
had confined it was lying on the floor. Another had slipped from her
neck and was hanging on the corner of the ironing board. Her stockings
had lost thei