“Noble man,” she continued, “you have accomplished a great work in the world. God has selected and armed you for the deliverance of his nations. You have other and greater work to do. In the doing it the luster of your shield shall never be tarnished, as it would be were we to wrong another now. Go forth, my hero, my life, and my darling; go forth panoplied in your high manhood to your duty. In spirit I shall be with you ever. I shall rejoice in your mighty deeds. I shall live in your nobler thoughts. Day and night, my beloved, will my soul dwell with yours. Only in perfect honor and faith can I join you. If the hour for such union shall ever be given to us on earth, come to me and you will find me waiting. If it come only in the other land, I shall still be waiting. But here, my darling, my own, my heart’s solace, here we must meet not again.” And she placed her ungloved fingers in his. The man and the woman sat silently hand in hand. The music floated out from the lighted ballroom, where “the dancers were dancing in tune;” the sea curled its beryl depths to crests of foam, and sounded in musical monotones upon the beach which lay a white line upon the edge of the dusk, and the old, old world, the sorrowful, disappointing world, the weary world, was as sweet and young as when the first dawns were filtrated from chaotic mists. She broke the silence and withdrew her hand: “Yonder comes the baron.” “Good-by,” said he, and he walked away into the night, and as he reached the edge of the balcony overhanging the beach, and felt the sting of the salt spray in his eyes, he muttered something. It might have been a good-night prayer, but it sounded like, “Damn the baron.” [From the San Diego _Union_, May 15, 1896.] We regret to announce the death yesterday, at the Coronado Hotel, of Baron Frederick Augustus Eulaw Von Eulaw, eleventh Count of Walderberg, eighth Baron of Weinerstrath, and Knight Commander of the order of the Golden Tulip. The immediate cause of the baron’s death was hyperemia of the brain, but he never recovered from the nervous prostration induced by heat and long exposure to the sun, while in the performance of his duty as one of the representatives of the German Empire, on the occasion of the dynamic exposition. This distinguished nobleman, during his brief sojourn among us, had endeared himself to all with whom he came in contact, by the gentleness and grace of his manner, his kindly sympathies, and unselfish courtesy. The _Wilhelm II._ has been detailed to receive his remains, which will be embalmed for transportation in state to Berlin, where they will be interred with fitting pomp. The baroness, who to the last was devoted in her attentions to the late baron, will, it is understood, remain in this country in the home of her parents, Professor and Mrs. John Thornton. CHAPTER XXVIII. “All’s well that ends well.”