Thou true friend!' cried Oswald, embracing the good old man with
grateful affection. 'Thou, who once so carefully guarded the boy
against the trifling dangers of youth, wouldst thou now save the life
of the man! I dare not accept the freedom you offer me,' he
thoughtfully added. 'According to martial law you forfeit your life by
this act. Rather than expose you to such consequences, I would prefer
to resume my chains.'

'Do not trouble yourself,' answered the corporal. 'The two soldiers who
accompanied me are secretly Lutherans, and had previously determined to
desert this night. Your father supposes I am already gone. I have my
discharge in my pocket. Although I am a good catholic christian, I
cannot bring myself to approve of his method of making people blessed,
and prefer quitting the service before I have wholly unlearned to be a
man. As soon as the gates open in the morning I shall leave this
wretched city for my peaceful home. If you are willing to accompany me,
I will provide you with other clothes and pass you off as my son.'

'No, my old friend,' said Oswald. 'I am bound to these walls by strong
ties. They enclose what is dearest to me on earth; and I must remain
here to watch over and protect, until I succeed in rescuing her, or
fall in the attempt.'

'Of course you will act your pleasure,' said the corporal. 'Besides,
they will not seek for you very earnestly, for captain Hurka is by no
means dead.'

'How, Hurka living?' asked Oswald with mingled regret and joy.

'It is harder to root out weeds than wholesome plants,' said the old
man. 'Your blow was right well intended, but did not penetrate very
deeply, and the long swoon which they mistook for death was only
stupefaction.'

'Ha, how furiously will the fiend rage again!' cried Oswald with
anxiety and indignation.

'Make yourself easy upon that score!' said the old man consolingly. 'He
is now disabled by his wound, and your father has caused a lecture to
be read to him, that may well satisfy him for the present. Besides, the
merchant Fessel has been released from his imprisonment, together with
his children.'

'How stands it with his wife?' asked Oswald.

'Indeed, she is to be buried the day after tomorrow,' slowly answered
the old man.

'Eternal God!' shrieked Oswald in the wildest sorrow. 'Vice saved and
virtue in the grave, and shall we yet believe in thy providence?'

'Yes, my son, we must!' said the old man, reprovingly. 'We must believe