rmy
had disappeared; but his account was discredited until she appeared by
daylight to the surviving vassals of Stramen, when they emerged from the
forest in which they had taken refuge. At the time of the return of the
soldiers of Stramen, she was much thinner and walked with difficulty,
rarely issuing from her retreat in the ravine, to which she had again
retired. On the morning of Margaret's funeral she could be seen, pale
and haggard, tottering toward the grave-yard. The simple peasants
recoiled before the ghastly figure, which, tall and trembling, with a
black gown and death-white face, passed among them like a spectre.
Before she reached the church she fell senseless to the ground. The
humanity of those who observed her triumphed over their fears, and they
bore her to a newly finished house hard by.

This was all the missionary could glean from his guide, as they walked
swiftly toward the shed pointed out by the peasant.

They found her lying motionless upon a bed in a corner of the room. As
they entered, she opened her eyes, and, after keenly scanning the Lord
of Hers, raised herself with difficulty upon her arm. Father Omehr
started. The wild light of insanity had left her eyes, and her glance,
though firm and resolute, was gentle and natural.

"Do you know me, Bertha?" said the missionary, springing trembling to
the bedside.

"Oh, yes," was the reply. "I have been in a long, wild dream!" and she
passed her hand over her high, clammy forehead. "And I know _you_, Sir
Albert of Hers, and I know that God has brought you here at this
moment."

The stout warrior, who never quailed before any odds, and whose
self-possession was as remarkable as his valor, quivered before the
mournful gaze of that weak woman. The room seemed to reel, and he leaned
against the wall for support.

"There is one other I must see--Sandrit of Stramen. Father, have him
brought here now; there is not one moment to be lost."

The missionary whispered a few words to a youth who was present, and the
stripling passed hurriedly out.

"Have you sent for him?" she inquired.

"Yes."

"Will he soon be here?"

"He is scarce a mile off."

"It is well," she continued, lifting up her large black eyes; "God has
designed it all! And now," she resumed, after a brief pause, "we must be
alone until the baron comes."

At a signal from the missionary, Albert of Hers and the wondering
peasants silently withdrew.

The half hour that elapsed befo