r. Set him free. My death--death atones for everything."

Again his voice failed, and the count, deeply moved, looked irresolutely
now at him, now at the smith. Lips's eyes filled with tears; and as he
saw his father delay in fulfilling the dying man's last wish, and a
glance from the dim eyes met his, he pressed closer to the noble, who
stood struggling with many contending emotions, and whispered, weeping:

"My Lord and Father, my Lord and Father, tomorrow will be Christmas. For
Christ's sake, for love of me, grant his request: release Ulrich's
father, set him free! Do so, my noble Father; I want no other Christmas
gift."

Count Frohlinger's heart also overflowed, and when, raising his
tear-dimmed eyes, he saw Elizabeth's deep grief stamped on her gentle
features, and beheld reclining on her breast, the mild, beautiful face of
the dying man, it seemed as if he saw before him the sorrowful Mother of
God--and to-morrow would be Christmas. Wounded pride was silent, he
forgot the insult he had sustained, and cried in a voice as loud, as if
he wished every word to reach the ear now growing dull in death:

"I thank you for your aid, man. Adam is free, and may go with your wife
and child wherever he lists. My word upon it; you can close your eyes in
peace!"

Lopez smiled again, raised his hand as if in gratitude, then let it fall
upon his child's head, gazed lovingly at Ruth for the last time, and
murmured in a low tone "Lift my head a little higher, Elizabeth." When
she had obeyed his wish, he gazed earnestly into her face, whispered
softly: "A dreamless sleep--reanimated to new forms in the endless
circle. No!--Do you see, do you hear. . . . Solo in parte' . . . with
you . . . with you. . . . Oh, oh!--the arrow--draw the arrow from the
wound. Elizabeth, Elizabeth--it aches. Well--well--how miserable we were,
and yet, yet. . . . You--you--I--we--we know, what happiness is. You--I
. . . Forgive me! I forgive, forgive. . . ."

The dying man's hand fell from his child's head, his eyes closed, but the
pleasant smile with which he had perished, hovered around his lips, even
in death.

CHAPTER XI.

Count Frohlinger added a low "amen" to the last words of the dying man,
then approached the widow, and in the kindly, cordial manner natural to
him, strove to comfort her.

Finally he ordered his men, to loose the smith's bonds, and instantly
guide him to the frontier with the woman and child. He also spoke to
Adam, bu