“‘Indeed! Are you then from that country?’
“‘Yes; and I too have fled for my life. But mine is a melancholy tale.’
“‘Your name?’ inquired the hunter.
“‘Krantz.’
“‘What! Krantz of —? I have heard your tale; you need not renew your grief by repeating it now. Welcome, most welcome, Meinheer, and, I may say, my worthy kinsman. I am your second cousin, Wilfred of Barnsdorf,’ cried the hunter, rising up and embracing my father.
“They filled their horn-mugs to the brim, and drank to one another after the German fashion. The conversation was then carried on in a low tone; all that we could collect from it was that our new relative and his daughter were to take up their abode in our cottage, at least for the present. In about an hour they both fell back in their chairs and appeared to sleep.
“‘Marcella, dear, did you hear?’ said my brother, in a low tone.
“‘Yes,’ replied Marcella in a whisper, ‘I heard all. Oh! brother, I cannot bear to look upon that woman—I feel so frightened.’
“My brother made no reply, and shortly afterwards we were all three fast asleep.
“When we awoke the next morning, we found that the hunter’s daughter had risen before us. I thought she looked more beautiful than ever. She came up to little Marcella and caressed her: the child burst into tears, and sobbed as if her heart would break.