"What need of such fastidious effeminacy?" he asked himself rebukingly. "Dust has no reason to fear meeting dust." Then he seized the spade, and shutting his eyes, began with zest to shovel the dark earth over the beloved body. A quarter of an hour later the grave was full. He laid the turf carefully in its original place, and took care to remove the remnants of superfluous soil and scattered flowers, so that when the sun rose no one could have found the place where Regina slept for ever. As he searched for a stone to commemorate the sacred spot, his eyes fell on the head of the ruined statue, which smiled at him in stony vacancy. He lifted it, and planted it in the turf. "Diana, the chaste," he murmured, "shall serve her as a tombstone. The sister by whom she will keep eternal watch is not unworthy of her." And again he flung himself on the grass and became lost in meditation. On the stroke of six he rose, and made preparations to depart. "They will be fools indeed," he muttered to himself, "if they don't make an end of me to-day." He filled his pistols with new cartridges, and sharpened his sabre, for he was determined his life should be dearly purchased. But when he crossed the drawbridge to the village, he was greeted by familiar and friendly faces. They belonged to Heide's sons, who were making their way to the Schranden depôt. They pressed round him and offered him their hands. "We are come," said Karl Engelbert, "to put ourselves under your command, for we wish to make amends for our conduct to you in the past." "I thank you with my whole heart," he replied. "All is forgiven and forgotten." Then he walked up to Schranden's gallant troopers, who, pale and with chattering teeth, cowered near the church door, like criminals awaiting execution. His comrades pointed out to each other in dismay the blood-stains on his clothes, but not one dared ask him to explain how they came there. "Bring out the prisoner, and get a waggon for him," he ordered. Felix Merckel was led out, but Boleslav did not deign to give him a glance. When farewells had been said, and all was in readiness for the march, the old pastor made his way through the crowd. His face was haggard and his hands shook. He hastened to Boleslav's side and whispered in his ear: "I hear that Regina met her death last night.... I am willing to give her Christian burial." "Many thanks, your reverence," answered Boleslav, "but I have already buried her with Pagan rites," and he turned away. A Schrandener, who, to ingratiate himself, had probably spent part of the night in capturing Boleslav's horse, now came forward holding it, with a servile grin. He swung into the saddle, and his sabre flew out of the scabbard. His voice rang out clear and threatening above the heads of the crowd as he gave the word of command. "Right, left. Quick march!" They left the village behind them; the woods loomed nearer. He did not look back. * * * * *