KINDNESS TO AN ENEMY—ARNOLD ARRIVES ALIVE, BUT WOUNDED—THEOBALD'S AMAZEMENT AT THE KINDNESS HE RECEIVES.

Erard heard the voice of his grandfather, and ran to throw himself in his arms, exclaiming, "The wicked man! the wicked man!--he has killed my father! God has not preserved him, grandpapa! My father is dead!"

"Adore God, my son!" said Gottfried, overcoming his grief, "and do not murmur! Especially, my son, do not grow angry, and do not hate!"

"But, grandpapa," replied Erard, with anguish, "it was he who was struck! It was my father whom he killed!"

"No, my son; the warrior killed one whom he fancied an enemy, Erard! Theobald believed himself serving God, and doing a holy work, in killing a Calixtan."

"He then does not love Jesus—this poor chevalier!" exclaimed the pious child. "O, grandpapa, how unhappy he must be!"

"Yes, my son—very unhappy!" replied Gottfried. "Do not hate him, therefore, but pray to God for him. Was it not God who conducted him hither—and was it not that we might speak to him of Jesus, and that we might love him—yes, Erard, that we might love him, for the sake of our Saviour?"

"But," exclaimed the old man, rising and advancing towards the window of his room, "what is this? What do I see in the distance, toward the rocks, at the entrance to the wood?" Erard looked also, and was sure that he saw men. "Yes—soldiers!" exclaimed he; "for I see their helmets glisten. There are many of them, grandpapa! Are they coming to kill us also, because we love Jesus?"

"Yes," continued the old man, without replying to the child; "they are, indeed, soldiers. But they are marching slowly, and it would seem---- Ah, my child! they are our own warriors; and it is my son—it is the body of your father—that they are bearing. O God of mercy, support us at this hour!"

"I dare not see him!" exclaimed Erard, running after the old man, who hastened to the road. "Grandpapa, hide me! hide me, I pray you!"

"Here is some one coming to us," said Gottfried: and at the same time, and in the opposite direction, Matthew and Ethbert ran out of the house, from which they had perceived the convoy; and all together hastened to meet a warrior, who advanced, waving a scarf, and exclaiming, "Praise God! Arnold is living!"

Gottfried staggered, and his servants received him in their arms, where he remained weak and motionless. Erard embraced him, sobbing.

The soldier, all out of breath, reached them, and taking the cold hands of the old man, said, "Joy, my dear lord! Bless God! your son is living! Here he is! Come, come; he desires your presence—he calls for you!"

"Grandpapa, he is calling for you!" repeated Erard, approaching the pale countenance of the old man. "Do not weep any more. Come, come quickly, and embrace him!"

"O the kindness of God! the mercy of Jesus!" said Gottfried, as he recovered; Arnold is living! He is restored to me!"—and leaning on the arms of his servants, he walked to meet the approaching troops.

"My father!--my son!" was soon heard. "Let us bless God! I am restored to you. He has preserved my life!"

This was Arnold—who had just perceived his father and his child, and was making an effort to glorify the Lord with them.

He was lying on five lances tied together, which ten warriors sustained by five other lances passed across beneath. A shield and some cloaks supported the head of Arnold, while a company of soldiers followed and guarded their chief.

Gottfried embraced his son, and blessed the name of the Lord: but after Erard had also manifested his tenderness, the strength of the chief did not allow him to speak any more; and it was in quiet and in silence that Arnold was borne into the house, then laid in a chamber adjoining that in which Theobald was.

The latter had fallen asleep, after Ethbert left him; and when he awoke, all was tranquil around him. The warriors, after having taken some nourishment, had returned to their camp, and Arnold was sleeping beneath the eyes of his happy father, and of Erard, who repeated incessantly, in a low voice, "O, how good the Lord is! He has preserved my father!"

"This is a singular house," thought Theobald. "What kindness, what benevolence, and, at the same time, what seriousness and solemnity, even down to this child! How they speak of God, of Jesus, and of heaven! But, am I mistaken? No: not one among them has named either the Holy Virgin or the saints!

"Can it be possible!" added he, after long reflection. "Perhaps I am in the family of a Hussite, one of those Calixtans whom I abhor. No, no! They would hate me also—for they know now who I am—and perhaps I shall see no more of the love and interest they have shown me.

"But," said he again, "there is something here that I cannot comprehend. I must inquire and inform myself."

Gottfried had returned. His countenance was serene; and it was with affectionate cordiality that he inquired of the chevalier if he was refreshed by his sleep.

"I am as quiet as possible," replied Theobald; "though this limb pains me some, and I am slightly feverish. O, if I could only learn the welfare of my family! What keen anxiety must torment my wife and my dear children! For it will be published in the two camps that the Iron-Hearted has been killed!"

"Reassure yourself!" said Gottfried. "I have attended to that. I have caused the army to be informed that you are living and comfortable. But they are ignorant of your retreat. We shall also have, as soon as to-morrow, certain intelligence of your family. Do not agitate yourself, therefore; but be patient, and await the Lord's will—for he alone reigneth."

In fact, Gottfried, at the moment of the departure of the soldiers, had placed in the hands of their captain, a letter, to be read on the way, in which, under the seal of secrecy, he confided to him all that concerned Theobald, and charged him to send the intelligence to his family; but concealing the place where he was. He also requested of the captain that a messenger might bring back some reply from the family, as soon as possible.

"Angel of goodness!" exclaimed Theobald, with profound emotion, which he was almost ashamed to display, "your love confounds me! I have never seen such up to this day. Whence do you derive it? Who gives it to you all?—for you all have the same love."

"God is love!" said Gottfried. "And if we know him, if he has revealed his love to us, ought we not also to love one another? Is it not in this, before everything else, that his image consists?"

Theobald. His image! The image of God! These words were never before spoken in my ears. I have never thought that I myself might bear the image of God. Who has suggested to you this unheard-of and sublime idea?

Gottfried. Was it not for this that the Son of God purchased us by his blood? Was it not that his Spirit might renew and sanctify us, to the resemblance of God our Father?

Theobald, (leaning his forehead on one of his hands.) Purchased by his blood! Renewed by his Spirit! What does that mean? These are, I am sure, the things of God, of heaven; but they are hid from my eyes. I do not understand them. Repeat them, I pray you.

Gottfried. Is it possible that the sacrifice of Jesus can be unknown to you? Do you not know, then, that the Saviour has shed his blood on the cross?

At this question, Theobald drew from beneath his tunic of fine linen, a little crucifix, which was suspended from his neck by a chain of gold, and after having kissed it, showed it to Gottfried.

"Well, then," said the old man, "since you wear upon your person a representation of this sacrifice, why do you not rejoice in what He has done for us? Yes; why do you not glorify him who loved us with such a love?"

"But I have not yet merited it," said Theobald, casting down his head, and coloring.

"Merited it!" exclaimed Gottfried. "Is Jesus, think you, a Saviour, if his salvation is not a gift?"

Theobald looked at the old man a long time in silence, and at last said, "This thought has never before occurred to me. If Jesus is a Saviour, you say his salvation is a gift. What a faith! Is that your religion?"

Gottfried. I am by nature a wicked man, like all others, but my soul reposes upon Jesus; and I desire to love him, because he has loved me, even unto dying for my sins. His blood has washed my soul; I therefore know that I am saved. Can I love him enough for such grace----?"

"Some one knocks at the door," said Theobald; and on the permission to enter, Ethbert announced that the hour for supper approached, and that his master was expected to attend prayers.

"You will not forget me!" said Theobald, extending his hand to Gottfried. "Go! and may God himself be with me as he is with you! I have much, much to think of."