ARNOLD INFORMED OF WHAT HAS TAKEN PLACE—HIS JOYFUL SURPRISE—ABSENCE OF GOTTFRIED.

So passed the night in the chamber of Theobald. Arnold had slept quietly. Ethbert did not at first speak of Theobald; and it was not until morning, after his master had awakened and had with Ethbert lifted his soul to God in prayer, that the servant pronounced the name of Rothenwald, lamenting the ruin of that beautiful and splendid dwelling.

"It is the Lord!" replied Arnold: "'He casteth down and he raiseth up, and his judgments are over all the earth.' But what bitterness for the wife, alas! for the widow of the unfortunate Theobald! Imprudent man! why did he flee? Would it not have been better for him to have submitted to numbers, and been taken prisoner? He would now be living, and his house would not have been burned!"

"Did his pursuers say," asked Ethbert, "that he was dead?"

Arnold. They were two of our chevaliers; and I was informed, that their intention was to seize him; that they called to him repeatedly, and at last, in the wood, pierced his horse with a lance, that they might be able to take him prisoner; but they declared that, in falling, the horse had crushed his rider, who had been killed immediately by striking his head against a rock. Such was their account. The Lord knows whether it was so; but Theobald has perished. Poor widow! Sorrowful and feeble orphans!

"My lord would then have defended him," said Ethbert, feelingly, "had he been able?"

Arnold, (with warmth.) I would have preserved his life at the peril of my own.

Ethbert. The life of your enemy?

Arnold. Does Ethbert forget the word of his God? Or, does he not yet know that "if we love those who love us," we act only like publicans and men of the world?

Ethbert. Arnold, the Lion, will, therefore, bless the Lord, when he learns that the Iron-Hearted was not killed, and that he was taken, a living man, from the spot where he fell.

"Ethbert! is that the truth?" said Arnold, seizing the arm of his servant.

"It was I, my lord, who held the torch which illuminated the dark forest, and it was between the trunks of the oaks and pines that I saw first a horse extended on the motionless body of a warrior."

Arnold. And this warrior----

Ethbert. Was Theobald! Yes, my lord, it was he who had just, as he thought, struck your death-blow.

Arnold. And who directed your steps thither, at night?

Ethbert. God, himself. O, what a work of his wonderful love! Yes, God himself guided your noble father and your son to the Stag Cliffs at the moment when Theobald, flying before the two chevaliers, passed through the defile of the wood; and your father summoned Matthew and myself to descend there with him.

Arnold, (with adoration.) My father! sent from God to the murderer of his son? How wonderful are the ways of the Most High! But, Ethbert, did you not say that he was dead?

Ethbert. We thought so. But your pious and benevolent father, my lord, knelt, touched the supposed, corpse, and exclaimed, "He is not dead!" and aided by our hands, disengaged him. He extended him on the mossy ground, called for water, bathed and refreshed the pale countenance of the chevalier; his life returned, and your father glorified God.

"Theobald is living!" said Arnold, lifting towards heaven his eyes filled with tears. "O, who will make it known to his wife and children?"

Ethbert. Your father, my lord, commissioned the captain who brought you here, to inform them of his safety; but she is still ignorant of the asylum of her husband.

"And where is he?" asked Arnold.

Ethbert turns, and pointing to one side of the chamber, says, "Behind that wall, my lord—Theobald is in your father's bed."

Arnold clasped his hands, praying, and blessing God. Erard, who had just entered softly, approached him, and said to him, with tenderness, "Good papa, have you slept well? It is I, papa!--It is your little Erard! Will you not embrace me?"

"O, my son," said Arnold, placing one hand upon the shoulder of his child, "if you knew how good the Lord is!"

"O, yes, dear papa," said Erard; "God is good—since he has preserved you."

"And he has also preserved Theobald," added the father.

"Theobald, papa!--the cavalier who was dead! and whom grandpapa, by the goodness of God restored! Do you know him?"

Erard looked at Ethbert, as if to know whether he might continue; and his father, who saw this look, said to him, "Yes, dear child—I know him; and I know that God has confided him to our care. O, Erard, remember that even an enemy has a claim on our love."

"Yes, dear papa," continued the child, "and, like the good Samaritan, we should love him and bind up his wounds. Papa, that is what grandpapa did the other night, in the wood. O, if you knew how afraid I was at first! Think, papa—a dead man!--blood!

"But now this chevalier is so good to me! I have just been to see him with Matthew; and he wept as he embraced me."

"Theobald wept, and embraced you, my son!" asked the father.

Erard. Yes, dear papa; and even said to me, placing his hand on my head, "May the God of thy father bless thee, and make thee resemble him!"

Arnold, (much affected.) Erard, did he say that to you?

Erard. Yes, dear papa; and when I was coming away, he called me back, and giving me this flower, said to me, "Erard, go to your father and tell him that Theobald sent this:" and he wept much. Here it is, dear papa. I did not dare to give it to you at first, because I did not know whether Ethbert----

"Embrace me, my child," said Arnold; "and go, and tell my good father, that I entreat him to come to me."

Erard. O, dear papa, grandpapa would have come before—but he went away in the night, with two servants, in a carriage.

Arnold. My father went away in the night, Erard! And do you know, and can you tell me where he is gone?

Erard. No, papa. Only he said, when he set out—for I was awake and heard him—"Go by way of the heath."

"He is then gone to Waldhaus," said Ethbert; "since the heath is on the direct road to the chateau."

These are the fruits of Christian love! It is active, fervent, and does not put off until to-morrow the good that may be done to-day. Sure and powerful consolation was necessary for the heart of the wife and mother whom God had afflicted, and the servant of the "God of consolation" was hastening, in his name, to Hildegarde, whom he hoped to bring to him whose death she was deploring.