that moment her peace of mind had vanished. Her soul was troubled
with cruel doubts and misgivings; and all her hopes appeared for ever
blasted. She nevertheless had sufficient command over herself, and for
a moment the weight which oppressed her mind gave way to joy now that
he stood before her; and she returned his salutation with the same
endearing smile which she was wont to do in the days of their unclouded
happiness. And had her cousin not been taken up in concealing her own
state of embarrassment, she could not have failed to discover, in the
tender glance of Bertha's eye, something which expressed more than
common courtesy.

"I bring you Albert von Sturmfeder, my worthy guest," began the scribe
to Marie, "who begs to have the pleasure of dancing with you."

"Were I not already engaged to my cousin Kraft for the next," said
Marie to the young knight, with recovered self-possession, "I would,
with pleasure; but Bertha is disengaged."

"If you are not engaged, may I have that pleasure?" said he, turning to
Bertha.

"I am engaged to you," she answered. Then it was that Albert heard
again, after so long an absence, that voice which had often called him
by the most endearing name; and he dwelt on those eyes which still
looked on him with undiminished fidelity.

The trumpets again sounded throughout the room. The second in command
of the army of the League, Waldburg Truchses, having the precedence in
the coming dance, came forth with his lady: the torch-bearers followed;
the couples arranged themselves, and Albert also, taking Bertha's hand,
placed himself in the ranks. Her eyes now no longer sought the ground,
but were directed solely to him. But in the expression of her
countenance, Albert could plainly perceive, there was something hanging
on her mind indicative of mental suffering. Joy at meeting him again,
which had but a moment before brightened up her features, was now
succeeded by an expression of dejection, which he could in no wise
account for. So much was he struck by the sudden change in her manner,
that he was on the point of upbraiding her, and taxing her unjustly
with an alteration of love towards him. Grieved at the pain he appeared
to suffer, she gently begged him to wait a fitting moment, and then she
would explain every thing. She looked cautiously behind her at
Dieterick and Marie, who were the next couple to them, to see if they
were near enough to overhear her conversation. Finding they were