s name louder and more pressingly.
A moment she listened, then rushed to the window, threw it open, and
called out, "I come, I come!"

Lodoiska flew to her; drew back the young girl violently from the
window, and throwing both arms firmly around her, said, almost
breathlessly, "Traitress! You shall not cross this threshold! I will
call your father. I will call the whole household together! I will--"

"You will call no one," interrupted Elise, and her proud, cold
composure awed even the countess. "You will call no one, for I stay,
and you--you go in my stead."

"What say you?" asked Lodoiska.

Elise raised her arm and pointed solemnly to the window. "I say,"
cried she, "that your bridegroom is waiting down there for you. Go,
then."

With an exclamation of joy the countess pressed her in her arms. "You
renounce him, then?"

"I have no part in him," said Elise coldly. "He belongs to you; he
is bound to you by your disgrace and his crime. Go to him," cried she
more violently, as she saw that the countess looked at her doubtingly.
"Hasten, for he is waiting for you."

"But he will recognize me; he will drive me from him."

Elise pointed to her clothes, which were placed ready for her
departure. "There lie my hat and cloak," said she haughtily. "Take
them; drop the veil. He knows this dress, and he will think it is me."

At this moment the door was torn open, and Bertram burst in. "Make
haste," he cried, "or all is lost. Count Feodor is becoming impatient,
and may himself venture to come for Elise. Gotzkowsky, too, has been
awakened by the unaccustomed sound of the post-horn."

"Help the countess to prepare for the journey," cried Elise, standing
still, motionless, and as if paralyzed.

Bertram looked at her, astonished and inquiringly; but in a few
rapid words the countess explained to him Elise's intention and
determination, to allow her to take the journey in her stead, and with
her clothes.

Bertram cast on Elise a look which mirrored forth the admiration he
felt for this young girl, who had so heroically gained the victory
over herself. His reliance on her maiden pride, her sense of right and
honor, had not been deceived.

The countess had now finished her toilet, and donned Elise's hat and
cloak.

Bertram called on her to hasten, and she approached Elise to bid her
farewell, and express her gratitude for the sacrifice she had made
for her. But Elise waved her back proudly and coldly, and seemed to
sh