far she would be safe; I would then conduct her out of
this part of the country. I may as well tell you that we were yesterday
half-betrothed! She goes with me; and you can persuade the gracious lady
at the hall to let the bird fly!"

"But how can I? how can I?" exclaimed Otto.

"She is, however, always your sister!" said Heinrich, and they both
remained silent for a moment. "Then I will," said Heinrich, "if all be
still at the hall, wait in the avenue as the bell goes twelve."

"I must!" exclaimed Otto; "I must! God help me!"

"Jesu, Maria, help!" said Heinrich, and Otto left him.

"She is my sister! she, the most horrible of all!" sighed he; his knees
trembled, and he leaned against a tree for support: his countenance was
like that of the dead; cold sweat-drops stood upon his brow. All around
him lay the dark night-like wood; only to the left glimmered, between
the bushes, the moonlight reflected from the lake.

"Within its depths," sighed he, "all would be forgotten--my grief would
be over! Yet, what is my sin? Had I an existence before I was born upon
this globe? Must I here be punished for sins which I then committed?"

His dark eye stared lifelessly out of his pale countenance. Thus sit the
dead upon their graves in the silent night; thus gazes the somnambulist
upon the living world around him.

"I have felt this moment before--this moment which now is here; it was
the well-spring whence poison was poured over my youthful days! She is
my sister! She? unhappy one that I am!"

Tears streamed from his eyes, it was a convulsive weeping; he cried
aloud, it was impossible to him to suppress his voice; he sank half down
by the tree and wept, for it was night in his soul: silent, bitter tears
flowed, as the blood flows when the heart is transpierced. Who could
breathe to him consolation? There lay no balsam in the gentle airs
of the clear summer night, in the fragrance of the wood, in the holy,
silent spirit of nature. Poor Otto!

"Weep, only weep! it gives repose,
A world is every tear that flows,--
A world of anguish and unrest,
That rolleth from the troubled breast.

"And hast thou wept whilst tears can flow,
A tranquil peace thy heart will know;
For sorrow, trivial or severe,
Hath had its seat in every tear.

"Think'st thou that He, whose love beholds
The worm the sma