ll take his life
and I'll drown myself in the lake. You'll help me, won't you? See, I'm
kneeling at your feet. You must help me. Your dear father and I were
almost cousins, and if your father were alive, he'd say what he's now
calling down to you from heaven--'Walpurga, if you don't help Zenza,
I'll never forgive you.'"

"Get up! What's the matter? How can I help you?"

"I won't get up. I'll die at your feet unless you promise to help me."

"I'll do all I can for you."

Mademoiselle Kramer interposed and said that unless Zenza would calm
herself, she would not be allowed to remain in the room another moment.

Zenza arose and asked:

"Is that the queen?"

Walpurga and Mademoiselle Kramer laughed at her question, and Zenza at
last made known her wish.

Her son Thomas, she said, was standing down there before the palace, as
the guard would not allow him to enter. He had been caught poaching
and, as it was his second offense, he had been sentenced to two years'
imprisonment. And yet he was not to blame. It lay in his blood. He must
go hunting. His father had been that way before him. He had only shot
one little chamois buck and for that he was to go to jail again. He had
sworn an oath that, before he would let them lock him up, he would take
his own life or else commit a murder, so that they might behead him at
once; and Zenza went on to say that Walpurga would have two,--nay,
three human lives on her conscience if she did not help them; that
Walpurga must procure her an audience with the king or queen, so that
she might, on her knees, beg them for mercy.

"Your husband and the landlord of the Chamois sent me," added Zenza,
"and they both say it'll be easy enough for you to help me, and if you
do, I'll be your slave as long as I live."

"Yes, I'd like to help you, but I can't see how. Things are not managed
here as they are at home."

"Oh, you can find a way, quick enough. You're clever, the whole
neighborhood says so; and I've known it ever so long, and said so, too,
on last St. Leonard's day. Schenck, the tailor will bear me witness,
and so will Spinnerwastl, too; 'Walpurga bears herself,' said I, 'as if
she were one of the lowliest, but she's the first in the whole
neighborhood. You'll all live to see what becomes of her. Her wisdom
and her goodness will show themselves.' Now, Walpurga, you'll help me:
won't you."

"Yes, as soon as there's a chance."

"But I can't wait. Thomas is to go to jail to-morrow,