ise from its ashes, perhaps more beautiful
than before. Lost lands can be conquered again, new generations will
come to fill up the vacancies caused by the sword, and soon perhaps
will Europe tremble again before the mighty roar of the Swedish lion.'

A splash in the water interrupted the proud prophecy. A row-boat from
the Ritterholm cut through the stream and neared the bank. Two ladies
in plain dark cloaks and covered with white veils, stepped from the
boat. 'Georgina,' cried Arwed in ecstasy, springing towards her. With
light, nimble steps one of the ladies, a slender and delicately formed
figure, approached and affectionately extended to him her right hand,
while her left was employed in withdrawing the veil from her youthful
and lovely face.

'My Georgina!' he joyfully repeated, leading her to a seat upon the
rocky bank, whilst the other lady remained standing at some distance,
sending from under her veil in every direction her scrutinizing
glances, so as to be enabled to warn the youthful pair betimes of any
troublesome witness who might interrupt the happy interview.

The beauteous Georgina fixed her affectionate gaze upon the beloved
youth, but with softened feelings which filled her dark eyes with
tears. 'By your dress I see,' said she with emotion, 'that this is our
parting hour--and I thank thee that I have been hitherto kept in
ignorance of it, so that I was enabled to enjoy the anticipation of
this meeting without alloy.'

'Yes, dearest maiden,' answered Arwed: 'my wishes are accomplished, my
father's kindness has opened to me the path of honor, which I dare to
hope will enable me to deserve and obtain thee. That I may hereafter be
entirely thine, I now leave thee. Thou wilt again see me, crowned with
the laurels of victory, or thou wilt hear that I have bravely fought
and fallen worthy of thee and myself.'

'Oh, Arwed,' faintly murmured the almost breathless maiden, reclining
her beauteous head upon his breast and turning her eyes upon his face
with a look of gentle reproach. 'Must it then be so? Thou hast indeed
always asserted this sad necessity, but I could never bring myself to
believe it. Credit me, my father is good, and by no means so haughty
and violent as the Swedes consider him. Ungrateful men indeed, hate
him--but he loves his newly adopted country. Thy house is one of the
most honorable--and even if he had other plans respecting me, he would
not be able to withstand my prayers if I dutifu