Volume I Part 16 (1/2)

Tausdorf called to them in Bohemian, ”Whichever of you moves a hand, my sword strikes him!”

”Draw!” roared Francis, with foaming mouth.

”Only in self-defence,” said Tausdorf, and held out his blade.

Francis pressed upon him with furious blows. He merely defended himself. During this the auburn-haired gipsy looked over the wall of the garden; she was now without a mask, and her face betrayed agony and repentance.

”Why don't you part them?” she cried to Tausdorf's people, wringing her hands.

”It is forbidden to us,” replied the faithful Martin sadly.

Tausdorf cast a glance from the combat to the place whence the well-known voice came; and, taking advantage of this, Francis lunged fiercely at his heart, but the thrust did not succeed.

”My life, then, is intended?” cried Tausdorf indignantly, and he cut his adversary over the right hand. As the arm sank, his sword went into the breast of Francis, who fell to earth.

”Gracious Heavens! such was not my purpose,” exclaimed Tausdorf, when he saw the blood flowing; and, sheathing his sword, he gazed for a while with looks of compa.s.sion on his fallen adversary. Then turning to his servant, he bade him hasten for his carriage:--”I feel myself too weak for long and speedy riding, and this brooks no delay.”

Heubert and Schmidt hurried back to the town.

”By G.o.d's holy word it was not my purpose!” repeated Tausdorf; and sighing ”Poor Althea!” he followed his people.

While this was pa.s.sing, the gipsy had quitted the wall, opened a little gate in it, and approached Francis, who lay in death-throes on the ground. Having come up to him, she shook the auburn locks from her head, and the long brown hair fell about her face as she put on a withered coronet of roses.

”Do you know me, Francis? Do you know this bridal ornament?” she asked, with a mixture of grief and anger.

”Agatha!” sighed Francis; and with difficulty turned away his head, that he might not see the fearful apparition.

”I have revenged your crime,” she exclaimed, ”and by a greater crime.

But there is no joy in vengeance; the grave knows no hatred, and I forgive you. Your guilt is atoned; and you may appear confidently before the throne of Heaven. Pray for me yonder, that I too may be forgiven when I have ended here in penitence and agony!”

She rushed away. Again he sighed!--Again!--and his soul fleeted with the last beams of the setting sun, and darkness and the silence of eve were upon the blood-besprinkled earth.

Althea was reclining in the window and impatiently expecting the knight's return, when at length she saw Martin and Schmidt come running breathlessly through the Peter's-gate. An evil foreboding thrilled through her bosom. She called out to them,--”What now? Has any accident happened?”

”We are to fetch our master's carriage immediately,” replied Heubert; ”you will learn the rest by and by.”

”Gracious Heavens! What is the meaning of this?” she exclaimed, and leaning out of the window to look after Tausdorf, she saw him coming, pale and in disorder.

”Something dreadful has occurred--I have never seen him thus before.”

She hurried down, but Tausdorf was already at the street door, and, seizing his hand with increasing anxiety, she said,--”Dear friend, what has happened to you?”

”My poor Althea! You were right with your foreboding when we parted.

Such as I left you I never shall see you again, for then no murder was upon my soul!”

”Good Heavens! Francis Friend!” cried Althea, whose terror divined the truth at once.

”He lies in the Park, killed by my sword!”