through them; the long folds of his cloak, the locks
of his hair, the plumes of his cap, stream wildly on the breeze. Cries
rise on the midnight air; they kneel before him, they circle round him,
they stand a living wall before him, they entreat him to stop, they
threaten to storm the castle, to take it before the dawn of day, to
seize the bride, and bear her safely to his arms.

He stays his hurrying footsteps, and the eager men fall into respectful
silence. His voice is heard, sounding sweet indeed, but firm and deep as
they have often heard it in the midst of battle-smoke and thunder:

'I thank you from my heart; my brothers. But it cannot be! The clashing
of our sabres must not wake the old man sleeping in the chambers of my
forefathers. I grew up under the shadow of his hand. He first taught my
lips to utter the holy word which names the land of our fathers; he
planted in my soul the thirst for glory. Before our holy banners float
again from the walls of his castle, I must sleep in death! Fate has
inexorably decreed it. Once more, farewell!'

He moves rapidly on, muttering to himself: 'What the priest of God has
bound, man may not untie--it must be _cut_ asunder!' Unconsciously
drawing his sword, he raises it in the air, the glittering blade
flashing like a meteor in the rays of the summer moon.

In silence and with drooping heads the soldiers follow--they know that
what he says will surely come to pass. Predictions of his approaching
doom had long been current among them; he had himself warned them the
hour of separation was near. Not by the sword of the near enemy, nor by
the arrow of the distant one, was he fore-doomed to fall. Not slowly was
he to fade away upon a bed of mortal sickness: his own dreams and
foreign magic had announced to him another doom! The conspirators move
silently and solemnly on behind him, as if following a corpse. He
already seems to them a spirit. But when he commenced the ascent of the
hill, the long plumes of his cap streaming through rocks and trees,
appearing and disappearing as he clambers up, they rush into pursuit.
Separated only by mossy banks and rocky terraces, they seek the same
hilltop. He reaches it the first. Before him flashes upon his eyes a
full view of the illuminated castle with its towers and battlemented
turrets; at his feet lies the abyss, thundering with the roar of falling
waters. An enormous pine has fallen over and bridges the chasm. His men
are close upon