s are occupied with troops;--through lanes and by-ways
have I stolen to thee!

Clara. Tell me, how is it?

Brackenburg (seating himself). O Clara, let me weep. I loved him not. He
was the rich man who lured to better a pasture the poor man's solitary
lamb. I have never cursed him, God has created me with a true and tender
heart. My life was consumed in anguish, and each day I hoped would end
my misery.

Clara. Let that be forgotten, Brackenburg! Forget thyself. Speak to me
of him! Is it true? Is he condemned?

Brackenburg. He is! I know it.

Clara. And still lives?

Brackenburg. Yes, he still lives.

Clara. How canst thou be sure of that? Tyranny murders the hero in the
night! His blood flows concealed from every eye. The people stunned
and bewildered, lie buried in sleep, dream of deliverance, dream of the
fulfilment of their impotent wishes, while, indignant at our supineness,
his spirit abandons the world. He is no more! Deceive me not; deceive
not thyself!

Brackenburg. No,--he lives! and the Spaniards, alas, are preparing for
the people, on whom they are about to trample, a terrible spectacle, in
order to crush for ever, by a violent blow, each heart that yet pants
for freedom.

Clara. Proceed! Calmly pronounce my death-warrant also! Near and more
near I approach that blessed land, and already from those realms of
peace, I feel the breath of consolation say on.

Brackenburg. From casual words, dropped here and there by the guards,
I learned that secretly in the market-place they were preparing some
terrible spectacle. Through by-ways and familiar lanes I stole to
my cousin's house, and from a back window, looked out upon the
market-place. Torches waved to and fro, in the hands of a wide circle
of Spanish soldiers. I sharpened my unaccustomed sight, and out of the
darkness there arose before me a scaffold, black, spacious, and lofty!
The sight filled me with horror. Several persons were employed in
covering with black cloth such portions of the wood-work as yet remained
white and visible. The steps were covered last, also with black;--I
saw it all. They seemed preparing for the celebration of some horrible
sacrifice. A white crucifix, that shone like silver through the night,
was raised on one side. As I gazed the terrible conviction strengthened
in my mind. Scattered torches still gleamed here and there; gradually
they flickered and went out. Suddenly the hideous birth of night
returned into its Mothe