shop heard their approach. It was his
last retreat. They rushed in upon him with more irresistible fury than
before, and, amidst stifled cries of protracted suffering, Bishop
Hatto at length rendered up his cruel and avaricious soul.

THE DANCERS.

The Sabbath-day drew to a close in the summer-tide of the year of
grace one thousand and one, and the rustics of Ramersdorf amused
themselves with a dance, as was their wont to do, in the courtyard of
the monastery. It was a privilege that they had enjoyed time
immemorial, and it had never been gainsaid by the abbots who were dead
and gone, but Anselm von Lowenberg, the then superior of the convent,
an austere, ascetic man, who looked with disdain and dislike on all
popular recreations, had long set his face against it, and had,
moreover, tried every means short of actual prohibition to put an end
to the profane amusement. The rustics, however, were not to be
debarred by his displeasure from pursuing, perhaps, their only
pleasure; and though the pious abbot discountenanced their
proceedings, they acquiesced not in his views, and their enjoyment was
not one atom the less.

The day had been very beautiful, and the evening was, if possible,
more so. Gaily garbed maidens of the village and stalwart rustics
filled the courtyard of the convent. A blind fiddler, who had fiddled
three generations off the stage, sat in front of a group of elders of
either sex, who, though too old and too stiff to partake in the active
and exciting amusement, were still young enough to enjoy looking on. A
few shaven crowns peered from the latticed casements which looked out
on to the merry scene. The music struck up, the dance began. Who
approaches? Why are so many anxious glances cast in yonder direction?
It is the Abbot.

"Cease your fooling," he spake to them, in a solemn tone; "profane not
the place nor the day with your idle mirth. Go home, and pray in your
own homes for the grace of the Lord to govern ye, for ye are wicked
and wilful and hard of heart as the stones!"

He waved his hand as if to disperse them, but his words and his action
were equally unheeded by the dancers and the spectators.

"Forth, vile sinners!" he pursued. "Forth from these walls, or I will
curse ye with the curse."

Still they regarded him not to obey his behest, although they so far
noticed his words as to return menacing look for look, and muttered
threats for threat with him. The music played on with th