embled.

"You will see," said the sergeant to the sleepy official, "that
to-morrow, not later than five, the sexton comes and bears the body to
its rest."

"The grave is already dug, sir," was the reply, "near the place where a
year ago Hans Frisdolin, the parricide was laid."

"Not so," returned the sergeant, "he shall have no dishonourable
burial, only as a stranger he must lie next to the wall. His French
girl has offered to pay the sexton. You can remind her, Killian."

"What I wanted to ask," the man broke in, "is whether the foreign lady
may have wine, and also a roast pigeon for which she longs. She will
pay for it, she says, and indeed she is a very good little thing, and a
pair of foreigners have been to pay her a visit in the tower and spent
three hours there. The warder turned them away at night, but the lady
was sadly put out, and she sent the warder to ask whether I would not
pay her a visit, for she found the time hang heavy."

"She must conform to the regulations," growled the sergeant. "To-morrow
she will be free, and then she can recommence her godless trade, as she
too surely will so soon as she is beyond our jurisdiction. Good-night,
Killian."

He turned to Frau Helena, who had gone to the door of the hall, and
there in deep shadow leant against the wall. While he led her out, and
on the way to her house, whither he accompanied her, he kept railing
against the dissolute creature, who might well have the unfortunate
dead on her conscience instead of throwing out baits for fresh victims
before the earth had closed over the last. He protested it removed a
stone from his heart to know that this Laporte was no Amthor, and he
hoped that the real Andreas might yet live to make up to his mother for
all that she had so christianly endured. The Council, however, was
truly indebted to the worthy matron for having given herself the
trouble of this late walk.

And so saying he took leave of the silent lady, and wished her a night
of refreshing sleep.

That wish was most certainly not realised. A storm arose that filled
the night with such wild uproar, that it seemed as if the very
earth trembled. In the room which had once been that of Andreas, a
window-shutter had been blown open, and now kept beating and flapping
against the wall. Lisabethli, who had fallen asleep, woke up in terror
at the sound. She saw her mother leave the room without a light, and
heard her go upstairs, and there was an end to that