in the Father's guiding hand, not merely in the sunshine before the
gathered sheaves, but also in the tempest which scatters the harvest.
Else have we not the true faith. Treasure up this sentiment, even
though it comes from the lips of an unlettered catholic. It has been a
friendly light to me upon life's weary road, and will continue to cheer
me onward to the grave. Now farewell. The morning wind already blows
across the graves, and I have yet many preparations to make for my
journey. Farewell, and remember me kindly. Should I never see you again
upon earth, God grant that we may hereafter meet where the true
Shepherd shall gather all his lambs, even those who have here strayed
from the flock, into one fold.'

He once more shook the youth most cordially by the hand, and then with
hasty and vigorous strides left the church-yard.

CHAPTER XV.

The day appointed for madam Fessel's interment was drawing to a close.
A crowd of people had assembled in the parish church-yard, with weeping
eyes and pallid faces, awaiting in gloomy silence the arrival of the
funeral procession. Two grave-diggers stood leaning upon their spades
beside the open grave.

The procession came. 'Now for God's sake summon resolution,' said a
young Franciscan monk, whose face was almost wholly covered by his
cowl, to an elderly rustic woman and a beautiful young peasant boy,
whose eyes were almost blinded by their tears, pressing forward with
them to a grassy hillock in the vicinity of the grave. A Lichtensteiner
who had found himself in the crowd, surprised at the exclamation,
placed himself near them and continued to watch their movements
narrowly.

The mournful hymn of the choristers was now heard approaching. High
waved the crucifix upon the church yard gate, shining silvery bright
through the evening twilight, and the choristers in double ranks drew
slowly toward the grave. After them came the Lutheran preachers, with
their heads cast down. Next came the black coffin upon the shoulders of
the bearers; upon its appearance the whole assembly broke into loud
sobs, and notwithstanding all the efforts of the monk to restrain them,
the peasant woman and young man upon the hillock wrung their hands with
irrepressible sorrow. After the coffin, came the weeping clerks,
apprentices, and household servants. Then followed the bereaved
husband, pale and tearless. With each hand he led one of his little
daughters, who