In softer, sadder tone, he adds: 'While in my power, I served our people with my whole might. I have raised our white eagle on the castles of our enemies. To morrow my comrades will pass these walls--ah! thou dost not know, had I lived another day, whose gray hairs might have been scattered in the coming whirlwind, or in whose courts I might have been forced to take my seat as avenger! We will go hence together, my sister. And where we go, the old men will not desert their country, the young men will not be forced to dishonor the gray hairs of those who first taught them the meaning of patriotism and honor; _there_ treason and oppression are unknown--there will be no _necessary vengeance_ in the Land of the Hereafter! Let us go, sister!' Transfigured by a sublime exultation, she throws herself into the arms of the chieftain; words and tears are no longer sufficient to thank him; but love has taught her how it may be done. Suddenly drawing from her finger the glittering ring of the enemy, she moves rapidly to the head of the bridal bed, and places it upon the rich embroidery of the laced pillows. Then returning to the chief, she presses his hand to her heart: 'Earth is past, and Heaven begun. Thou art henceforth my lord and master forever!' She kneels at his side, and begins to recite the prayers for the dying. He kneels beside her, sometimes reciting with her, sometimes wrapt in solemn silence. After a few moments, he breaks upon her prayers: 'The morning twilight is upon us.' As he speaks, the little birds awake; their matin song sounds from the well-known grove. 'Lean on my arm, beloved; let us look once more upon the earth we leave so soon together!' She leans heavily upon his arm, and they stand on the threshold of the door opening upon the gallery. * * * * *