lifted up the body of the
unfortunate girl and threw it over the low railing of the bridge into
the rippling water beneath. A splash followed that sent the water in
brightly burnished crystals high in the air--and then the river
flowed on, as though unconscious and uncaring for the burden that had
been committed to its keeping.

Raising himself to his full height and shaking his blood-red hand in
the direction of the village, Nat Toner cried out with demoniac
exultation:

"Now, Henry Schulte, I am revenged!"

Saying which, he plunged into a strip of woods that grew near by, and
disappeared from view.

Oh, shimmering moon, did no pitying glance fall from thy cold, bright
face as this fair, young life was cruelly beaten out by the hand of
her brutal assassin? Oh, glittering stars, did no dark clouds
intervene between thy merry twinklings and the dreadful scene below?
And ye, oh, rippling river, did no murmur escape thee as the crimson
tide of this fair dead girl mingled with thy transparent waves and
floated away into the darkness of the night?

CHAPTER XII.

_The Search for the Missing Girl._--_The Lover's Judgment._--_Henry
Schulte's Grief._--_The Genial Farmer becomes the Grasping Miser._

Half an hour later, Henry Schulte, who had been delayed beyond his
wont in the village, came walking briskly along the road that led to
the abode of Emerence. His heart was gay, and a blithe, merry song
rose to his lips as he journeyed along. All unconscious of the dark
deed that had been committed, he stood upon the rustic bridge, where
he had expected to meet his betrothed, and gazed at the beauty of the
landscape that was spread before him. No sound came from that
gurgling stream, to tell the impatient lover of the fate of her he
loved, and little did he dream, as he stood there in quiet
contemplation of the glorious night, that directly beneath his feet,
with her calm, dead face upturned towards him, could be seen,
through the transparent waters, the lifeless body of the fair maiden,
whose head had nestled on his bosom and whose loving lips had made
him happy with their kisses of love.

Ah, nevermore for thee will the bright moon shine in its translucent
splendor, and never again will you know the happiness and the peace
of this beautiful evening, as you waited on that bridge for her who
nevermore would come to your call again.

After waiting a short time, and not hearing the footsteps of his
affianced, Henr