ed and danced upon
the rippling water; the border of grand old trees that fringed the
bank of the stream was reflected with exaggerated beauty far down
among the waters; the glittering stars stole in and out among their
branches, and shone in the clear crystal mirror. Now a fleecy speck
of cloud floated over the face of the Queen of Night, from behind
which she would soon emerge, with increased brilliancy, to dart her
long arrowy beams away down to the pebbly bottom of the flowing
river, kissing the fairies that the old German legends tell us dwelt
there in the days of old.

Silently, but with happy heart and beaming eyes, the young girl gazed
upon the scene that lay before her; then, walking to the center of
the rustic bridge that spanned the stream from shore to shore, she
leaned over the low railing and watched, with her mind teeming with
pleasant visions of the future, her figure reflected as in a
burnished mirror, upon the water beneath her.

Her sweet reverie was interrupted by the sound of approaching
footsteps, and a blush illumined her face as she thought she would
soon greet her coming lover, and feel his strong arms about her.
Turning her head a little, she saw another shadow there so distinctly
traced that she had no difficulty in recognizing it, and she started
in affright as she discovered that instead of Henry Schulte, the
new-comer was none other than his enemy and hers, Nat Toner.

She would have yielded to an intuitive sense of danger, and fled from
the spot, but Nat stepped quickly in the way and barred her passage,
lifting his hat in mock reverence as he addressed her.

"Good evening, pretty Emerence, you look like a beautiful water
sprite in the rays of this bright-beaming moon."

Did she imagine it, or was there a cold, hard ring in the voice that
uttered these words, which filled her heart with an aching fear, and
made her lips tremble as she acknowledged his salutation?

"You are waiting for Henry Schulte, I suppose!" he continued, in the
same hard, mocking tone.

Mustering up all the latent courage which she possessed, she looked
up unflinchingly, as she replied:

"I do not know that anyone has a right to question me upon my
movements, or to assign a reason for my actions."

"Indeed, my pretty little spit-fire! You speak truly, but Nat Toner
intends to assume a right which no one else possesses," answered Nat
tauntingly, while his black eyes glistened in the moonlight with a
baleful