greater cheerfulness. It appeared to Lord
Erich as if his brother had come to reason, and after all had made up
his mind to fulfil their parents' wish. He believed all the more in
the happy change when he heard that his brother intended presenting
himself to the Archbishop of Cologne, in order to deliver a letter of
great importance from his late father to him.

Count Erich's heart was glad. He roamed joyfully through the forest,
and his gladness seemed to increase his good luck in the sport.
Several gigantic boars were pierced through by a spear sent from his
hand. A deer also met with a similar doom.

The younger brother's success was on the contrary very meagre. His
hand was unsteady and his whole bearing betrayed restlessness. A
strange subdued fire gleamed in his eyes.

While he was following the trail of a mighty boar, Count Erich met him
and offered to pursue the animal in his company.

They hunted through thorns and thicket, accompanied by the yelping
hounds. Suddenly the foliage rustled, and the boar was seen to break
wildly through the bushes. A spear from the younger brother whirred
towards the beast, but missed its aim and remained sticking in the
bark of an oak.

"Your hand is more fit to bless pious Christians," said Count Erich
with a smile.

"But still fit enough to rid me of an inconvenient brother!" muttered
the younger brother between his teeth, and tearing his hunting knife
rapidly from his belt, he plunged the two-edged steel into his
brother's breast. A terrible cry at the same time rang through the
forest, and the murderer fled in haste.

Two attendants of the Count who were hunting close by, hearing the cry
came running to see what was the matter, and found Lord Erich lying in
his blood, dying. They bent down over him to see if they could help
him, but alas! it was too late. The man, mortally wounded, was beyond
the reach of human aid. With a last effort he opened his lips,
muttered lowly but audibly the words, "My brother!" then sank back and
closed his eyes for ever.

The terrible news that the Lord of Godesberg had been foully murdered
by his own brother, spread swiftly through the country. Mourning again
filled the castle on the mountain, when they carried the body of the
poor slain man to his untimely grave. They buried him in the family
vault next to the recent grave of his father.

From that time the castle stood desolate. The next relative of the
noble family, who lived in a l