"Yes, that will be best," answered the Prince. "Take her to thy home and thy wife, and leave her not till thou dost see all well betwixt them. Then follow me if thou canst; for methinks the tide of battle is about to turn, and that soon I may have the power as well as the will to reward those faithful and loyal servants who have followed me in the days of adversity." Hugh approached Lotta, who with trembling hands was drawing the veil over her face once again, and he noted that she seemed to sway like a broken reed. "Lotta," he said, in a very gentle tone, "come with me, my sister. I will take thee to Linda." A little shiver ran through her frame, and suddenly she spoke in wild, eager tones,-- "Linda! Linda! Linda! O sister, sister, have pity, have mercy upon me!" and then she burst into wild weeping, and sank senseless to the ground at his feet. A litter was quickly prepared, Lotta was placed in it, and before nightfall Hugh had arrived with his charge at the door of his own home. Already the stir of arrival had aroused the inmates, and Linda came running forth from the parlour, uttering a cry of joy as she flung herself upon her husband's neck. Then Hugh, holding her close to him, whispered in her ear the strange story he had to tell, and Linda approached the litter with a face full of awe, affection, and eagerness. "Lotta!" she said softly, "dear, dear Lotta! Thou hast come back to me--at last!" With a strange strangled cry Lotta sprang forward, clasped her sister wildly in her arms, and then once more fell senseless to the ground. Late that night, as Hugh sat over the fire after having told all his tale to his parents, who had then gone to bed, the door opened, and Linda stole in, a strange expression upon her pale face. She made straight for the shelter of her husband's arms, and lay there, the tears coursing quietly down her face. "How is it with Lotta, sweetheart?" he asked. "Hugh," answered Linda, "I think she will die; but she has no desire to live. I think she has bitterly repented of the past; and if she can but lay aside her thoughts of hatred, and learn to forgive even her enemies, methinks death would perhaps be the happiest thing for her. Oh, she has had a strange and terrible life! Heaven grant that she has not lost her soul, seeking after unhallowed things! But that was Tito's fault. Surely God will not visit it upon her!" Then Linda told to her husband the tale that she had heard in fragments from her sister's fevered lips.