Towards the end of May, an official document was brought to the governor of Hohen-Urach. It contained the pardon of Wilhelmine von Graevenitz, provided she undertook to leave Wirtemberg for ever, and to abandon any future claims upon land or property of all sorts in the Dukedom. The governor was directed to accompany the lady to the frontier, with an escort of two hundred horse. Further, he was to place in her hand, at the moment of her passing out of Wirtemberg territory, a sum of a hundred thousand gulden, 'in fair compensation for any loss incurred,' it was set forth in the pardon. With this surprising document was a sealed letter addressed to the Graevenitz, which was to be delivered immediately. The governor repaired to the prisoner's apartment, but found it deserted. The Graevenitz was taking the air upon the ramparts. He found her leaning over the stone parapet, gazing, as usual, into the distance with those terrible, haunted, unseeing eyes. In vain the valley was radiant with Spring's tender treasury; she gazed unseeing at the wealth of blossom, the feathery green of the beech-trees, and at the rounded hills so rich in sombre firs enhancing the wondrous youth of the beech leaves; at the little hill-town, red-roofed and sheltered, clustering round the old castle. All this peaceful beauty of Nature's renascence was nothing to her. As she had said, death would have been much shorter; this long-drawn agony, this numb pain, was death in life. 'I have the happiness to announce to your Excellency that his Highness the Duke has granted you pardon. When it suits you to travel, I am to accompany you to the frontier under escort,' the governor said coldly. She turned her eyes upon him, but she gave no sign of comprehension; once only she started and winced, when he said his Highness the Duke, otherwise she remained unmoved and unresponding as one deaf. He waited a moment for her to speak, then slowly repeated his announcement. 'Where am I to go to?' she said at last in a low, uncertain voice. 'Where it pleases your Excellency. Anywhere out of Wirtemberg.' She turned to Maria who stood behind her. 'Have I a house anywhere? I have forgotten,' she said. 'Surely, surely, Excellency; your castle at Schaffhausen,' replied the peasant woman. 'Very well; we will start to-morrow for Schaffhausen,' the Graevenitz answered in her new, broken, docile voice. 'There is a letter for you, Madame,' the governor told her. 'A letter? Who should write to me? The dead do not write.' 'O Madame! Madame! read it; there may be good news,' cried Maria. 'Good news? Good news for me? There can be none. Do you not know that there can be none?' she said tonelessly. Even the governor's eyes were wet as he handed her the letter. She broke the seal listlessly. 'I send you the best terms I can make for you, in remembrance of the Judengasse of Stuttgart, and in gratitude for your kindness to my race.--JOSEPH SUeSS OPPENHEIMER.'