When Sidonia heard him tell all this, and how she had written notes of entreaty to him, she screamed aloud, and springing at him like a wild-cat, buried her ten nails in his hair, shrieking, "Thou liest, traitor; it is false! it is false!"

Now Ulrich rushed forward, and seized her by her long hair to part them, but at that moment Master Hansen, the executioner, entered in his red cloak, with six assistants (for Ulrich had privately sent for him), and the Grand Chamberlain instantly let go his hold of Sidonia, saying, "You come in good time, Master Hansen; take away this wretched pair, lock them up in the bastion tower, and on the morn bring them to the horse-market by ten of the clock, and there scourge and brand them; then carry them both to the frontier out of our good State of Wolgast, and let them both go their ways from that, whither it may please them."

When Sidonia heard this, she let go her paramour and fell fainting upon the bed; but recovering herself in a little time, she exclaimed, "What is this you talk of? A noble maiden who is as innocent as the child in its cradle, to be scourged by the common executioner? Oh, is there no Christian heart here to take pity on a poor, helpless girl! Gracious young Prince, even if all the world hold me guilty, you cannot, no, you cannot; it is impossible!"

Hereupon the young lord began to tremble like an aspen leaf, and said in a broken voice, "Alas, Sidonia! you betrayed yourself: if you had not mentioned that trap-door to me, I might still have believed you innocent (I, who thought some good angel had guided you to it!); now it is impossible; yet be comforted, the executioner shall never scourge you nor brand you—you are branded enough already." Then turning to the Grand Chamberlain he said, that with his consent a hangman should never lay his hands upon this nobly born maiden, whom he had once destined to be Duchess of Pomerania; but Appelmann, this base-born vassal, who had eaten of his bread and then betrayed him like a Judas, let him be flogged and branded as much as they pleased; no word of his should save the accursed seducer from punishment.

Notwithstanding this, old Ulrich was determined on having Sidonia scourged, and my gracious lady the Duchess must have her scourged too. "Let her dear son only think that if the all-merciful God had not interposed, he would have been utterly ruined and his princely house disgraced, by means of this girl. Nothing but evil had she brought with her since first she set foot in the castle: she had caused his sickness; item, the death of two young knights by drowning; item, the terrible execution of Joachim Budde, who was beheaded at the festival; and had she not, in addition, whipped her dear little Casimir, which unseemly act had only lately come to her knowledge? and had she not also made every man in the castle that approached her mad for love of her, all by her diabolical conduct? No—away with the wretch: she merits her chastisement a thousand and a thousand-fold!" And old Ulrich exclaimed likewise, "Away with the wretch and her paramour!"

Here the young lord made an effort to spring forward to save her, but fell fainting on the ground; and while the attendants were busy running for water to throw over him, Clara von Dewitz, turning away the executioner with her hand from Sidonia, fell down on her knees before her Grace, and besought her to spare at least the person of the poor, unfortunate maiden; did her Grace think that any punishment could exceed what she had already suffered? Let her own compassionate heart plead along with her words—and did not the Scripture say, "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord."

Hereupon her Grace looked at old Ulrich without speaking; but he understood her glance, and made answer—"No; the hangman must do his duty towards the wretch!" when her Grace said mildly, "But for the sake of this dear, good young maiden, I think we might let her go, for, remember, if she had not opened out this villainy to us, the creature would have been my daughter-in-law, and my princely house disgraced for evermore."

Now Marcus Bork stepped forward, and added his prayers that the noble name he bore might not be disgraced in Sidonia. "He had ever been a faithful feudal vassal to her princely house, and had not even scrupled to bring the secret wicked deeds of his cousin before the light of day, though it was like a martyrdom of his own flesh and blood for conscience' sake."

Here old Ulrich burst forth in great haste—"Seven thousand devils! Let the wench be off, then. Not another night should she rest in the castle. Let her speak—where would she go to? where should they bring her to?"

And when Sidonia answered, sobbing, "To Stettin, to her gracious lord, Duke Barnim, who would take pity on her because of her innocence," Ulrich laughed outright in scorn. "I shall give the driver a letter to him, and another to thy father. Perhaps his Grace will show thee true pity, and drive thee with his horsewhip to Stramehl. But thou shalt journey in the same coach whereon thy leman clambered up to the trap-door, and Master Hansen shall sit on the coach-box and drive thee himself. As to thy darling stablegroom here, the master must set his mark on him before he goes; but that can be done when the hangman returns from Stettin."