AN easterly gale raged through Silesia's forests; centenarian oaks bowed the head before the powerful blast; the weathercocks of Castle Rothkirch creaked and spun round their pins, as if endeavouring to escape, while owls and jackdaws, the living playthings of the storm, cawed and fluttered against the windows of a closet where the Lady Dorothea was sitting at her labour of love, embroidering a splendid mantle for her absent lord. Under the pretext of sooner espying his expected master, Kruko, his Polish squire, had stepped out into the balcony, and was indeed gazing steadfastly, not at the wild weather, but back through the casement panes on the serene heaven within the countenance of the fair embroiderer, while in his heart the storm of passion played even a more destructive game than the fury of the unbridled elements. At a fresh gust Dorothea_anxiously raised her dark eyes, and started when she found Kruko's fixed upon her. A vague fear passed over her heart like the shadow of death, and she rose to leave the room. His conscience told the wild Pole that she was flying from him, and stung at having betrayed himself, he returned into the closet.

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"Night begins to fall," he said, "and as yet I have not been able to descry my lord. I almost despair of his return today," he continued in a lower voice; "yet I thank my saints, since it allows me the happiness of guarding the castle and its fair lady for another night."

"It becomes you well to regard as a pleasure the duty which you share with all your master's vassals," replied the noble lady with unusual pride, assumed to keep the forward youth within the bounds of respect.

Convinced, however, that she had read his thoughts, and determined to have his fate decided, he approached VOL. IV.

her and said :-" If you mean to humble me by this coldness or pride, you do not know Kruko's heart. Would you cast ice into a furnace of molten metal, you could not quench the flames; in wild fury they would burst their prison, and destroying all around, the crimson fire-column would scale the frightened heavens."

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You are raving," exclaimed the lady, and endeavoured to escape; but he violently grasped her band, and cried

Stay! you shall at least conceal no longer that you understand me. I love you as long as I know you; you are a woman, and must have observed it long since. I love you with torments and delight, with a fire which silently consumes me, while you can look coolly on; but it shall be so no longer! I will have some return, should I have to purchase it with my soul!"

"Leave me this instant," cried Dorothea, indignantly. "Prepare to answer to my husband on his return, for words which madness or intoxication alone could have prompted."

Kruko ground his teeth and murmured, "death for love! these are the thanks of woman! Lucky am I, poor enamoured fool, that I can still this tempest with a word, else were I lost!" Then looking at her, he said coldly--" So, you would betray me, Adelma ?”

The flush of anger vanished from Dorothea's pallid face; she stared wildly at her torturer; opened her lips as if to speak, and sank fainting on her chair.

Mad villain, you have killed the angel!" cried Kruko; and striking his forehead, he knelt at the feet of his lady, and was raising her hand to his lips when the door opened, and little Deodat, her son, a child of three years old, ran in; and seeing his mother pale and with closed eyes lying in her chair, clung crying round her neck.

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"Her child and his," muttered Kruko, "in that one idea all hell is crowded!" The lovely woman, awakened by the kisses of her son, raised her eyes, moved the floating raven tresses from her high forehead, and fixed looks of boundless mother-love upon the boy, who patted her lily cheeks with his little hands. Then, with an indignant glance at Kruko, who stood before her with the feelings of a fiend in paradise, she signed to him to leave her. The insolent squire still hesitated, when her maids entered. She bade one of them

tell Father Czeslaus that she would await him in the castle chapel, in the confessional, and, attended by another, leading Deodat by the hand, she left the closet. Long stood Kruko, motionless, in the empty apartment; at length, he furiously stamped on the floor, raised his clenched hand towards heaven, and rushed from the room.

The night was dark; the howling of the storm was mingled with the rolling of distant thunder. In the castle yard stood Kruko, like the first murderer, in still despair. Tossed by the hurricane, his hair was wildly driven across his distorted features, and his eyes were fixed upon the illuminated windows of the castle chapel, where Dorothea was now confessing. After some time the chapel door opened, the lady appeared, attended by her maids, and with hur ried steps crossed the castle square towards her apartments. Kruko, to conceal himself from observation, pressed close behind the enclosure of the wall, and, after the WOmen had disappeared, stood long in gloomy thoughts; then collecting himself, with quick strides sought the chapel. At the altar the venerable Czeslaus still knelt, and, overcome by an awe which he could not master, Kruko stopped on the threshold. When the old man had concluded his prayers, he rose from the steps of the altar, gave fresh oil to the lamp which hung before it, extinguished the tapers, and turned to leave the chapel. Kruko instantly approached him, seized his hand, and said: "A word, reverend Sir! time is pressing, and I must be brief. I know Dorothea's dangerous secret, which cannot be hid from you, her confessor. But for her weal and my own, perhaps that of all Silesia, I

must also know those sentiments which, hid in the deepest deep of woman's heart, are accessible only to God and you. Your answer will guide my actions; and from the wise Dominican, who, doubtless, secretly smiles at the prejudices which feed him, I hope, for a rich reward, to hear what the lady has just confided to him; my humble name has surely been the theme."

With calmness and dignity Czeslaus looked at the wild inquirer, and then said, in a tone of earnest compassion: "You are very ill, Kruko, though, perhaps, not bodily. Go to your chamber, and pray fervently to drive away the tempter. When you have come to your senses again-when your better self has conquered the dark powers, I shall expect you in the confessional, to impose upon you the deserved penance for your criminal demand."

With scornful smile, Kruko replied: "Think you that the babbling of a monk can alter the resolution of a man? I know the value of my secret, and the power derived from it, too well, to be frightened by empty threats. Whatever Dorothea feels for me-love, hatred, or contempt-she has trusted to you within this hour, and you leave not the chapel till you have disclosed it."

"Poor man," said Czeslaus, with a feeling of pity, "how you hasten to precipitate yourself into the pit! Pray and confess; that is the only advice the faithful physician of your soul is able to give you." So speaking, he went towards the door.

"You mock me!" exclaimed Kruko, and drew his dagger. "But by (he swore a fearful oath,) “you leave not this place alive, if you keep silence longer."

Czeslaus held his peace, and the villain raised the murderous weapon. Suddenly a flash of lightning illuminated the chapel, and, surrounded by its brightness, the friar stood like a glorified saint before the sinner. An awful peal of thunder succeeded-the dagger fell from Kruko's hand, and his dazzled eyes sought the ground.

"Heaven has not destined me to fall by thy hand," said Czeslaus, with majesty; "for still many things the Lord will accomplish here below by his servant. Thou, too, art chosen by

Him, whom even the apostate spirits must serve, for an instrument, in order that, through thee, thousands may gain the sacred crowns of martyrdom. The spirit teacheth me, from thy ill-boding features, that, like unhappy Judas, thou canst betray the friend who lovingly broke bread with thee. Hasten, then, to fulfil thy destiny, and infect no longer, by thy presence, the pure atmosphere of the house of God."

A second flash of lightning again filled the chapel with a horrible glare; the thunder rattled anew; and frightened and agitated, yet resolved for the worst, Kruko rushed out into the wild stormy night.

On his return from the ducal court, Sir Hans of Rothkirch was overtaken by the weather. He sought refuge in the inn of Neumarkt, and sate there, wrapt up in serious thought, with an untasted goblet before him, while, at a neighbouring table, some citizens of the town were chatting to the innkeeper and emptying their pints. The conversation growing more lively, at length roused the Knight of Rothkirch from his reverie; he began to listen more attentively, and every instant became more interested in the subject. "We won't let you off, Master Jacob," a young citizen exclaimed impatiently, "you must, at last, tell us the story of the heathen princess. I was just at that time on my wanderings; we have heard all sorts of things of her, but nothing coherent or orderly, and idle loiterers always add so many lies. Fill your pints, and then you can go on with your narrative without stoppages; you know how to pack your words as elegantly as a friar, and when a storm is raging without doors, nothing is so pleasant as to sit in a warm comfortable room, behind a full pint, and to listen to horrible stories. It is particularly delightful when the hair gets a little on end, and the goose-skin creeps all over the body."

"Go on! go on!" cried the whole table, and the landlord, flattered and attacked from all sides, could resist no longer. He filled the pints, and began as follows:

It was exactly four years ago, this day eight weeks, in the morning, when a stranger entered my tap-room, and engaged my whole house for the lady

of a high Tartar prince and her retinue. The tanned face of the man, his curious dress, and broken German, appeared, at first, somewhat suspicious; but as he paid me immediately a whole week before hand, and that in good Hungarian ducats, I felt satisfied, and made all arrangements to receive the foreign lady in a suitable manner. The sun had already set, when a stately caravan of horses and carriages stopped at my inn. A tall majestic lady, closely veiled, was lifted from her steed, and immediately ascended the staircase, and took possession of my best apartment. She was followed by three other veiled women, and then a multitude of splendidly-dressed black monsters, with thin squeaking voices, followed, and settled themselves in the ante-room. Into my tap-room there came a brilliantly adorned heathen, who was nicknamed Myrsa, with a whole troop of horsemen, like the forerunner, and the whole set lived like lords, and paid for all they had above what was agreed on, with good red gold. The following morning, one of the Moorish monsters ordered me up stairs to the lady. I obeyed; and when I came up, the black, holding his naked sword over my head, ushered me into the presence of his mistress, who was sitting, with her legs crossed, on beautiful rich carpets on the floor. She spoke German, exactly like the Poles, but, with her sweet gentle voice, it sounded uncommonly agreeable. We had a long conversation, and she inquired very particularly and circumstantially about the situation, habits, and customs of our dear Silesia. She was as mild and as kind as an angel; and when I spoke to her about our fine churches, and our manner of worship, she became very much affected, and her voice trembled, as if she was weeping; however, I could not be certain on account of her veil, which still continued to cover her closely. Then I had to tell her a good deal of the ways of our nobility, not of the Poles, but of the German nobles, whom his highness, our duke, has drawn into the country; and my account of their elegance and chivalry, and of the tender treatment of their ladies, seemed to please her very much, though sometimes she gave a deep sigh. Then she graciously dismissed me, one of her

female attendants, at her command, handing me a golden bottle containing some precious oil of roses, and my black monster led me out again. On that same morning there came two other customers to my house, whose rascally countenances directly struck me with terror; for I knew that formerly they had served Black Rupert, for whose head the lords at Breslau had offered a reward of a hundred guilders. They set to with the Heathen, and drank to them stoutly. I got more and more frightened, for it appeared to me as if these vagabonds only came to watch an opportunity for mischief. I was already inclined to communicate my suspicions to the council, but was afraid of Black Rupert, who surely would have set fire to my roof if his men had been arrested in my house. Before I could come to a resolution, the fellows were gone; and as nothing else happened during the day to confirm my suspicion, I quietly went to bed.

At midnight a dreadful noise awakened me; murdering shouts and rattling of arms were heard through the house. The heathen had been attacked by a superior number of highway men, and defended themselves bravely. In my fright I ran out of the house: there was Black Rupert, sure enough, with a strong troop, and the guilds hurrying to arms to drive the rover out of the town. But he ordered his trumpeter to blow, and then cried to the citizens that he had nothing to do with the town, but merely with the Pagans that had put up at the inn. He told the guilds quietly to go home to their houses; and if they did so, he would, upon his knightly word, march off without harm to the town: if not, he, of course, would be obliged to set fire to the four corners of the city. The citizens upon that dispersed, and the vagabonds, of whom there are plenty in every place, ran to lend a hand to the robbers, who now for the most part dismounted, and with drawn swords entered the inn. After this, all soon became silent inside, and by-and-by the whole gang came out laden with immense booty. Rupert and his under captains took the heathen girls, (who right quietly submitted to their fate,) before them on the saddle, and the whole troop galloped out of the town

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gate which, on entering, they had taken by surprise. I now ventured again into the house; the sight there was dreadful; robbers and heathen were lying in confusion, dead or dying, in every apartment, while the blood flowed in streams over the thresholds. enough of those horrors. In the mean time, I only sought for the poor princess who had so kindly conversed with me; for that she had not been dragged away with her maids, I was certain. I therefore expected to find her corpse up stairs in her apartment: there, however, nothing was to be seen except two Moorish monsters lying dead at the entrance, who probably had fallen in defence of their mistress. After searching through the whole house, even every chimney and every corner in the loft, I found, at last, on the cross of one of the back windows, two bedsheets tied together, by means of which the unfortunate lady had probably effected her escape. I offered up some Ave Marias for the salvation of her body and soul; got my house cleaned and whitewashed from top to bottom, and endeavoured to forget that murderous night.

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Since that time Black Rupert was as if blown away out of our dear Silesia. I have been told that he, with his whole gang, entered into the service of the Polish king, Boleslaus, and had been killed two years ago at Krakau, in a battle against the Tartars. years ago, however, another circumstance happened which I must tell you, as it is connected with that unfortunate affair. One night a stranger, wrapped in a cloak, knocked at my door and asked for a private room. When I showed him into one, he bolted the door inside, threw off his cloak, and I beheld with horror a brown face with little, grimly-sparkling eyes, and a black beard that awfully reminded me of the heathen who had perished in my house. His body-dress of yellow silk, open in front, showed a hairy breast, and was held together by a gold-wrought girdle, from which a sabre, richly mounted with brilliants, was suspended. The splendour of his whole dress, from the diamond-egret that fastened the heron-feathers in his turban, down to his yellow embroidered boots with golden spurs, plainly intimated that I had to deal with some