He rushed out, and Tausdorf again fell upon his knees, while his looks flew through the iron bars with burning enthusiasm to the seat of everlasting freedom. "You have highly favoured me in life, eternal Father!" he exclaimed. "Unspotted honour, pure love, and true friendship, have adorned, with their noblest garlands, this head, which I must now lay down in the long sleep of the grave. Now, then, crown thy work of mercy through a good death. Grant that I may depart with courage, and without bitterness against my enemies, so that I may appear before thy throne, not unworthy of thy immortal son." The gens-d'armes had drawn a triple circle of spears about the stone columns before the sessions-house cellars. Within, by a heap of strewed sand, waited the executioner with his sword beneath his red cloak. On the other side of the circle the people thronged in a dense mass. All the windows of the marketplace swarmed with spectators, while the roofs and the chimney-tops were covered with men, all expecting, with anxious curiosity and a strange painful pleasure, the victim which they yet lamented. The bells of the parish church began to toll, and the death-procession approached slowly from the custom-house. By the side of the city-marshal, surrounded by spearmen, walked the noble Tausdorf, free from fetters, and with his accustomed nobleness. The tight red suit of velvet sate handsomely upon his well-formed limbs, and in his raven locks was woven a coronet of flowers. The features of the pale face were calm and cheerful, and in the glance of his large black eye beamed a light that no longer seemed to be of this world. With friendly greetings to the by-standers, he entered the circle. "I die innocent," he exclaimed in a loud clear voice, that sounded far beyond the market-place. "But what earthly son shall dare to boast himself free from all earthly failings? I therefore humbly pray to Heaven for pardon for any acknowledged and unacknowledged sins, and hope also, from your Christian charity, that you will forgive me such, and put up your prayers in my behalf, that I may have a blessed end!" A general sobbing answered this address, and amidst it, from the distance, sounded the lamenting voice of the poor Althea.-- "If I could but see you once again!" "This is more bitter than death," sighed Tausdorf half to himself, and, turning to the quarter whence her voice had come, he cried, "My dear Althea, that can no more be in this world, but we shall meet again in life everlasting!" The sobbing of the people grew louder, and here and there were heard single words of discontent. But the marshal gave a sign to two of the gens-d'armes, who went with their spears to that part whence the voice of Althea had come. Then advancing to Tausdorf, he said earnestly, "It is time!"