t covered his face.

In a few moments the child returned with the filled ewer in her hands.

"Come hither, my little girl!" said the stranger, in a tender,
affectionate voice.

The child started violently.

"Don't be alarmed!" growled the virago. "Don't you hear that this
gentleman wants to speak to you? Are you afraid he will bite your nose
off?"

And with these words she seized the child's hand roughly and pushed her
towards the stranger.

The stranger softly patted the child's little head.

"Don't be afraid of me, my little girl! You have no reason to fear me.
What is your name?"

"Betsey!" replied the virago.

"Ah, why Betsey? Such a coarse, common name for such a tender child! I
would call her Elise, that is far prettier. Besides, the two names mean
one and the same thing."

"Nay, nay, you will spoil the child, sir. As if she was not spoilt
enough by her father already. Peasant folks call their daughters Betsey
or Polly; Elise and Lisetta are the names of gentlefolks' children. You
must not listen to such nonsense, child; but go and tell your father
that there is a gentleman here from Poland who wants to speak to him
immediately before he lies down."

The child timidly withdrew her little hand from the stranger's, who
seemed very disinclined to let it go, and hastened to her father's room.

The stranger thereupon tidied up his clothing, smoothed back his hair on
both sides of his forehead, thereby giving to his features a gentle
amiable expression, and softly tapped at the headsman's door.

"Come in!" resounded a deep melancholy voice from within.

The unknown youth entered and carefully closed the door behind him.

The moment he was well within the room, the smile of frivolous
braggadocio he had lately assumed entirely disappeared from his face;
the defiantly thrown back head bent meekly down; a look of devout
inspiration was visible on the thin lips and in the veiled eyes; the
whole figure of the man seemed to have grown smaller, the shoulders
contracted, the breast receded; he had now the air of a gracious and
benignant missionary.

And a benignant missionary indeed it was who now stood face to face with
the headsman.

The herculean figure of the headsman arose slowly and tremulously, and
while his hand with furtive anxiety sought the hand of the little girl,
he asked the stranger in a scarcely audible voice what he required of
him. Perchance the latter did not catch what he said, he spoke