Eliza cast a searching glance on the dense crowd; she looked at all the pews, and yet she did not know what she was looking for, nor what alarmed her heart so much.
All at once she started in sudden terror, and her cheek turned deadly pale. Yonder, behind the windows of the vestry, she beheld a young man in a handsome uniform; it was he, he whom she had looked for without knowing it herself; he from whose sight her heart had shrunk with anxiety and dismay. And yet Eliza had longed to see him, for she had been uneasy on his account; she had feared lest he should still suffer gravely from the consequences of his wound. But she had not dared to ask any one about him; hence, she was glad to see that he was well, and showed her gladness in her gaze at him. Their eyes met, but he looked upon her with an expression of hatred and contempt; a haughty, disdainful smile played round his lips, and he threw back his head superciliously, instead of nodding pleasantly to her.
Eliza felt a terrible pain in her heart; she wished to jump up, she- -All at once she heard her name drop from the lips of the curate, who was standing before the altar, and who had just concluded the thanksgiving prayer. What did he say—why did he mention her? She held her breath to listen to him. Great heavens! another name fell from the curate's lips. He uttered the name of Ulrich von Hohenberg; he proclaimed him the bridegroom of Eliza Wallner, who was present; he called upon Captain Ulrich von Hohenberg to appear before the altar, and receive the consecration of his union with his betrothed in the presence of all these witnesses.
With a hollow groan, crushed, and as if broken-hearted, Eliza sank back into her chair, and her pale lips murmured
"Now I am lost, and so is he?"
"Ulrich von Hohenberg," shouted the priest at the altar, "come hither and take your bride by the hand."
The door of the vestry opened, and Ulrich von Hohenberg stepped in. His tall, slender form presented a very fine appearance in the brilliant gala uniform; a flashing cross adorned his breast; in his hand he held his gold-laced hat, with the waving white plume; only the sword was wanting to his side, and this alone betokened his humiliating position, and showed that he was a prisoner amidst all these armed men. But the consciousness of this fact seemed not to humiliate him, for he walked up, his head proudly raised, and his stern, cold eyes gazing scornfully upon the assembly.
He stepped close up to the altar. "Reverend father," he said, in a clear, loud voice to the priest, "you have called me. Here I am. What do you want of me?"
"I have called you, Ulrich von Hohenberg, to marry you to your betrothed. Eliza Wallner, step to the side of your bridegroom."
But Eliza Wallner did not rise from her chair; she leaned her head, almost in a swoon, against the back of her chair, and stared, as if unconscious of what was going on around her, at the priest and the young man, who fixed his eyes on her at this moment with an air of cold contempt.