With feverish impatience Eva awaited the arrival of Lieutenant von Bertram, an impatience all the more intense from her inability to hasten his visit, accustomed though she were to an instant fulfilment of her every wish.

Eva was one of fortune's spoiled darlings; her father, who from being a common day-labourer had become the possessor of mines and millions, cherished an idolatrous affection for his daughter. Was she not an only child, the very image of the wife whom he had wooed for very many years only to have her snatched from him by death after one short year of marriage?

Karl Schommer was universally held to be a hard, cold, stern man, capable of only one passion--avarice. One woman, she to whom he had given his whole heart, knew what he really was. For her sake, to win for his wife the daughter of his wealthy, purse-proud employer, Schommer had laboured with superhuman energy, and embarked his first accumulated earnings in speculation. Everything that he attempted succeeded. He won wealth, and with wealth the woman whom he loved. Her death was a terrible blow; it would have crushed him had he not been sustained by a sense of duty. He had a sacred charge to fulfil in care for the little motherless daughter whom his dying wife had put into his arms with her last loving smile.

To little Eva he henceforth devoted himself with all the unselfish tenderness which he had shown to his early-lost wife. For her he continued to labour with the same restless energy and with the same success as heretofore. The child needed a woman's care; the anxious father would not entrust it to a hired nurse, but he bethought himself of his sister-in-law, the wife of his brother Balthasar, and he begged her to take charge of his motherless little one.

It was no easy matter for Aunt Minni to make up her mind to leave beautiful Dresden, where she kept a thriving haberdasher's shop; but persuaded thereto by her kindly husband, who loved his brother dearly, she did leave it and undertake to preside over her brother-in-law's household and to take charge of little Eva.

Karl Schommer could not have provided better for his child's physical welfare than by summoning his sister-in-law to his aid. Never was there a more devoted aunt and nurse, and she was rewarded by seeing her charge develop into a strong, healthy child.

It was decidedly questionable however whether Aunt Minni's capacity for undertaking Eva's mental culture were equally good; but of this Karl Schommer thought not at all. His own education was very defective; it never troubled him that his brother and his brother's wife were alike uncultivated; it was enough for him that they loved his child almost as tenderly as he did himself.

There could hardly have been worse training for a child than that under which the little Eva grew up, and but for her admirable natural endowments of disposition and intellect, she must have been entirely ruined by the constant and injudicious indulgence with which she was treated.

She was still very young when her father died; her home-education was after this neither better nor worse than it had been before. She tyrannized over the entire household, over her teachers and schoolmates. Only one of these last would not bend before her: this was Aline, her present companion.

Aline was quite as clever as Eva; they were rivals for first honours in school and out. Out of this rivalry there grew a friendship between them that ended only with their lives. Aline was the daughter of a man of rank, who occupied a high position under government, but who was dependent upon his official salary for the means to support an extremely expensive family. He died suddenly, and there was no course open for his daughter but to turn her talents to account in earning her own living.

No sooner did Eva hear of her friend's misfortune than she sought her out, and did not relax her entreaties and persuasions until the poor orphan had agreed to live with her, occupying the position of a dear sister.

Since the day when Aline had obeyed the call of the young heiress and dwelt beneath her roof a new existence had begun for Eva. She gladly resigned herself to the guidance of her wiser and better-disciplined friend, whom she often called her good angel, and to whom she clung with intense affection.

To-day for the first time she had refused to listen to her friend; but for the first time also her heart had made itself heard. Were not two human lives at stake? While she waited she passed in review in her memory all her past intercourse with Bertram and Heydeck, she recalled every word spoken to her by either.

She had frequently met Bertram in society; his aunt, Madame von Sturmhaupt, never omitted to invite Eva to every entertainment, large or small, which she gave. The old lady appeared exceedingly fond of the young heiress, whom she heaped with attentions; for Eva's sake she often endured hours of ennui with Aunt Minni, upon whom she called at least once a week. But for the most part she arranged these visits so as to find Eva at home, and then Aunt Minni's taciturnity served her turn well, for she could dwell without interruption upon the fine qualities of both mind and person of her nephew, Guido von Bertram, whom she described with enthusiasm as the cleverest, noblest, best, bravest, gentlest, and handsomest officer in the entire German army.

Only one thing was to be regretted, and that was his insensibility to female charms; he might have made the most advantageous alliances, so many charming girls had been absolutely thrown in his way by their parents, but really her dear Guido, who was possessed of every requisite to make a wife perfectly happy, must have a heart of stone in his breast, if indeed--and here Madame von Sturmhaupt would heave a melancholy sigh--an unfortunate passion had not steeled that heart against all the rest of the fair sex.

When the good lady reached this climax, which was sure to crown all her descriptions of Guido, she would cast a meaning look at Eva. An unfortunate passion! Poor Guido, he was so sensitive, so unselfish! The mere thought that perhaps a wealthy girl might suspect him of being mercenary would drive him wild; his aunt was sure that the fear of laying himself open to such a suspicion would deter him from ever confessing his love to a girl who had money.

That was why he was so often sad and pensive. Yes, there was no doubt of it, he was sick at heart with an unhappy love.

Such talk was infinitely annoying to Eva, but do what she would she could not avoid it, for with incomparable dexterity Madame von Sturmhaupt would lead the conversation back into her favourite channel whenever Eva contrived to divert it thence for a while, and at all the dinners which she gave the doting aunt arranged that her Guido should sit beside the heiress.

On such occasions Herr von Bertram played to perfection the part which his aunt had assigned him. Sometimes he conversed fluently with Eva, endeavouring to let his light shine and to be witty and amusing, and then again he would sit silent, gazing moodily on the ground or casting long melancholy looks at the heiress.

Guido was an excellent actor, and his aunt seconded him ably, but Eva's keen insight, sharpened as it was by the distrust of others, which was becoming her second nature, enabled her to see through their schemes. She was not deceived either by the enthusiastic praises lavished by the aunt or by the assumed melancholy of the nephew. All this love and devotion were for her millions, not for herself; of this she was well assured, and the better Bertram played his part the more odious he was to her. She despised him as a hypocrite, and she detested him because she could not avoid his attentions, since there was a reason, which she thought an important one, why she did not like to refuse any of his aunt's invitations.

At every entertainment given by Madame von Sturmhaupt Lieutenant von Herwarth was sure to be present, and the young officer was devoted to Aline. Eva knew that her friend did not regard him with indifference, although she had never questioned her about him, and for Aline's sake she endured Bertram's odious attentions, for Aline's sake she accepted all his aunt's invitations, while all the more did she detest Bertram himself. And he--he of all others--had stepped forward to defend her against Leo von Heydeck!

There was a pang at her heart as she thought that Heydeck, as Uncle Balthasar had said, had allowed himself to make offensive remarks with regard to her. Was this conceivable? Yes, it was possible; his arrogance was great; had he not conducted himself at the fÊte at SchÖnsee with such hauteur and reserve as to provoke Eva to treat him with even more than her usual coldness of manner?

She had been really glad when her uncle Balthasar presented to her the young officer of whom she had heard so much that interested her. Aline, who learned it all from Lieutenant von Herwarth, had told her that he had distinguished himself as much for bravery and scorn of death in the field as for humanity and kindness shown to the French peasantry. To Herwarth, as he told Aline with enthusiasm, Leo von Heydeck was the very ideal of a nobleman and officer. Herwarth could not say enough of him, and Aline repeated faithfully to Eva all that he told her.

Thus an interest in Leo was awakened in Eva's mind before she saw him, and when they did meet, his manly bearing, his noble, expressive face, answered to the impression of him already existing in her imagination.

But Eva was a spoiled child of fortune. Accustomed to servile homage from her numerous adorers, Leo's dignified quiet demeanour when they first met, had seemed to her offensive, and she had resented it by an increase of cold reserve on her part. And Leo hated her for it! Eva knew it. She had watched him that day, and had detected him regarding her with mistrust and dislike. And to-day!--he had recognized her; their glances had met for one instant as he looked up from his newspaper, but he had immediately and intentionally averted his eyes; he was the only one there who had not accorded her even the simplest salutation.

Yes, Leo von Heydeck hated her, Eva knew it, and meant to give hatred for hatred; she could have no effect upon him to prevent the duel, for she never could so humble her pride as to address even the merest word of friendly appeal to him. But she could prevail with Herr von Bertram. True, it was very irksome to her to ask a favour of him for which she should owe him gratitude, but a higher sense of duty forbade her to yield any weight to this thought. This duel must not take place!

Eva remembered her uncle's words, that Heydeck was an unerring pistol-shot; she had formerly heard the same thing from Aline. Heydeck's brilliant skill with this weapon had contributed to win him Herwarth's enthusiastic admiration.

A duel with deadly consequences! The idea was so horrible that it banished every other consideration. A nameless, feverish horror possessed the young girl; in imagination she saw the fatal combat: she saw the foes stand opposite each other; the signal was given, the shots were fired, and one sank on the ground with a bullet through his heart, but this one was not Bertram, but Leo von Heydeck, whose pale face, convulsed with the death-agony, seemed to hover before Eva's eyes.

The horrible waking dream was so vivid that Eva screamed aloud, and only recovered herself when she felt Aline's gentle arm around her and heard the kind voice in her ear begging her to be calm and composed once more.

"You must control yourself, Eva," Aline said, gravely; "you cannot receive Herr von Bertram while you are in this agitated state. It was wrong to interfere as you have done, without due reflection, in an affair between these two men. But now that you have gone so far you must show no weakness when the lieutenant comes. You must not receive him until you are entirely mistress of yourself. It would be better to let me speak with him; tell me what you desire he should do; you really are not in a condition to see him."

"No, Aline, I must see him; he will not refuse my request; I will implore him to give up this wretched duel; I will not rest until he has given me his promise, even although I should beg for it on my knees."

"He cannot grant it; his honour as an officer is at stake. Take my advice, Eva, let me speak with Herr von Bertram; if it is possible to prevent this duel I promise you it shall be done, but pray do not you appear in the matter. It is bad enough to have your name mixed up with a scandal, which is town-talk by this time. Do not furnish any further food for gossip."

"What is town-talk to me? Let gossip say what it will of me, I do not care. Do not try to shake my resolution: it is perfectly firm; I shall see Guido von Bertram, and force him to put a stop to this unhappy duel, but I promise you to be calm, and to control myself. You shall be present at the interview; I will look at you if my anger threatens to master me; but, dearest Aline, do not talk to me, leave me to myself; do not confuse me with entreaties now, when I must be calm and clear in my own mind if I would obtain what I desire."

"As you please," Aline replied, disappointed; "I will not thrust my counsel upon you." She took up the embroidery which she had laid aside, and worked away industriously, but from time to time her eyes anxiously followed Eva, who was restlessly pacing the veranda to and fro.

An hour elapsed. Eva's state of expectancy had become almost unendurable, when at last Uncle Balthasar's loud voice was heard at the other end of the drawing-room.

"Come in, come in, Herr von Bertram, Eva is awaiting you on the veranda."

Eva pressed her hand to her throbbing heart.

"Be composed, Eva," Aline whispered.

"This way, pray, Herr von Bertram," Uncle Balthasar was heard saying, and the time consumed in traversing the drawing-room was sufficient to restore Eva's self-possession. She was only very pale when the lieutenant presented himself upon the veranda, followed by Uncle Balthasar. The hand which she rested lightly upon the back of her chair as she arose to receive her guest trembled a little, but Aline alone perceived this; even to Uncle Balthasar his niece appeared perfectly calm and self-possessed.

So thoroughly had she regained her self control that she greeted Bertram with a slight smile, offering him her hand, which he kissed with perhaps more warmth than custom warranted. This, however, Eva did not seem to notice; she did not withdraw her hand until he relinquished it, and then motioned him courteously to a seat.

Guido obeyed her invitation silently; even he, whose heart was not wont to be easily thrilled, perhaps because, as both his friends and foes averred, he really did not own the article, could with difficulty suppress his agitation; he knew that a decisive moment was at hand.

On the way to the villa, Uncle Balthasar had told him, after his easy, good-humoured fashion, how Eva had been quite beside herself with terror when she heard of the impending duel. She had been half dead with fear lest Herr von Heydeck should kill the man who had defended her so stoutly. She had declared that she would prevent the duel at all hazards.

Guido could not but suppose, from Uncle Balthasar's words, that Eva's terror and her intense desire to prevent the duel arose from fear lest his life should be in danger, and in fact this was the old man's belief. He himself had a certain regard for the handsome young officer.

For months Guido had eagerly pursued his scheme of winning the hand of the wealthy heiress. Hitherto he had been hopeless of success. Eva had treated him with such cold reserve that he had frequently declared to his aunt that he would relinquish his pursuit of her, he was but wasting time, and his persistence had been owing to Madame von Sturmhaupt's earnest entreaties.

The old lady frequently told him that Eva's repellent manner and her coldness were only feigned. She wad too proud to be easily won; in the end, she would surely grant his suit. If Eva really disliked him, she never would accept, as she did, every invitation to her, Madame von Sturmhaupt's, house, since she knew she should meet him there. Her readiness to accept these invitations was the surest possible proof that she liked to meet him, and that her coldness was only a cloak for the preference she secretly entertained for the handsome lieutenant.

Such views harmonized so entirely with Guido's wishes that he could not but lend them a ready ear. Still, he was not convinced, and every fresh repulse of his attentions on Eva's part awakened fresh doubts in his mind.

He had resolved more than once to put his fate 'to the touch' and 'win or lose,' so unendurable did these doubts seem to him, but his prudent aunt besought him to have patience. Undue haste in declaring himself would, she said, lose Eva to him forever. The heiress was proud, wayward, and self-willed, full of whims and contradictions, and these might easily influence her to say 'No' when she really meant 'Yes.' He must wait for the right moment, and in the mean time his aunt promised to advise him of everything that occurred at the Schommers', so that he should on no account lose this right moment.

It had come in a manner which the aunt had never dreamed of. After Uncle Balthasar's communications, Bertram could not doubt that Eva was impressed with profound gratitude for his defence of her against Heydeck's insults, and filled with tender solicitude upon his behalf. The smile with which she received him, in contrast to her former cold greetings, confirmed Uncle Balthasar's words. She had not even shown the slightest displeasure when he had bestowed so warm a kiss upon her hand. Certainly there could be no more favourable moment than the present for a formal declaration of his sentiments. He must use to his advantage her solicitude for his safety, her gratitude, her emotion; the next minute should be decisive!

"You have kindly acceded instantly to my desire to see you, Herr von Bertram," Eva began the conversation, after Uncle Balthasar had withdrawn. "I thank you for so doing, and I hope you will as kindly grant the great favour which I am about to ask of you."

"Be assured of it, FrÄulein Schommer. Do you not know that I desire nothing more earnestly than to fulfil your behests?"

"You promise fairly, Herr von Bertram; I hope not too fairly."

"Put me to the proof. You can ask nothing, dear lady, that I can deny you."

It was the first time that the lieutenant had ventured to make use of such warmth of expression. Eva's pale cheeks flushed crimson, her eyes flashed angrily; but bethinking herself how unadvisable it was to provoke the man, she overlooked the familiarity of his address which she would else have resented instantly.

"I am going to put you to the proof, Herr von Bertram," she replied, gravely. "My uncle learned to-day from Count Waldheim that there has arisen between Herr von Heydeck and yourself a quarrel of which I am the unhappy cause. More my uncle did not learn; wherefore I beg you to tell me all about it."

Guido found it difficult to suppress a satisfied smile and in its stead to express upon his features painful regret, but he managed it very successfully. With a sigh, he said, "After what Herr Schommer said to me, I almost expected this demand from you; but it is, I confess, extremely difficult for me to comply with it. My friend Count Waldheim, with the best intentions of course, was excessively indiscreet in mentioning to Herr Schommer what had just occurred beneath BÜchner's awning. I am greatly pained that you, my dear FrÄulein Schommer, should thus have learned what never should have reached your ears."

"Since it has reached my ears, and, but for Count Waldheim's communication, might have reached them too late, I refuse to be satisfied by vague declarations. I wish to know just what happened, and therefore entreat you to tell me the truth,--and the whole truth."

"I promised to fulfil your desire, and, hard as it is for me, I must keep my promise. As Count Waldheim told your uncle, there is a quarrel between Lieutenant von Heydeck and myself,--a quarrel which Heydeck provoked by the insolence with which he dared to speak of you, my dear FrÄulein Schommer."

"This explanation does not suffice me. I must know--I have a right to know--exactly what took place. You took upon yourself the office of my champion. Herr von Bertram, I must know what acts or expressions of Herr von Heydeck's gave you a right to do so. I desire you to repeat to me word for word, if possible, what was said."

There was no encouragement in the tone in which Eva uttered these words, especially when she spoke of Guido's right to champion her. The lieutenant's lofty hopes were suddenly dashed to the ground, for there was certainly no gratitude, no tender solicitude as to the issue of the strife in Eva's manner; no, the air with which she regarded him as she made her demand seemed almost hostile.

"You ask much of me," Bertram said. "My tongue rebels against repeating the miserable words that scoundrel used."

"But I require it. Remember your promise!"

"I obey, though with a heavy heart. You remember, dear FrÄulein Schommer, that you drove past BÜchner's to-day. You probably did not notice that Herr von Heydeck was ill-bred enough not to salute you. That irritated me, but my indignation was aroused when the man discussed you aloud with his friend, Herr von Herwarth, in the most offensive manner."

Aline von Schlicht had hitherto been an attentive although silent auditor of what passed. Now she suddenly turned to Bertram, and with a sharpness and decision hardly to have been expected from so gentle and retiring a young lady, said, "That cannot be true! Herr von Herwarth never would have taken part in any 'offensive' discussion of FrÄulein Schommer. I know from himself how greatly he respects her----"

"I envy Herr von Herwarth so fair a defender," Bertram replied, smiling, "and I willingly affirm that not the slightest reproach can attach to him,--his expressions were perfectly respectful. I spoke only of Heydeck----"

"Proceed! proceed!" Eva impatiently interrupted him. "What were the offensive words used by Herr von Heydeck?"

"I obey your behest, and will repeat his words as exactly as I can remember them, although I cannot possibly reproduce the arrogant tone, which was more insulting than the words themselves. He first told Herr von Herwarth that it was much against his inclination that he had been presented to the 'fair princess,' as he expressed it, in silly adoration of whom he never could join----"

"Why was he presented, then?" Eva angrily interposed.

Guido shrugged his shoulders, and continued: "He then proceeded in the most reckless fashion to tell of how FrÄulein Schommer had treated him with contemptuous discourtesy, and at last dared to declare that FrÄulein Schommer was odious to him,--he hated her arrogance! her low purse-pride! These are his very expressions!"

Eva grew deadly pale; the little hand still leaning on the back of the chair trembled convulsively. It was not anger that thus moved her, but pain, real pain, as she exclaimed, "Purse-pride! low purse-pride! I, purse-proud! Oh, if he knew how I loathe and despise the wretched money! But I will not complain; it is my destiny to be made miserable by this unhappy wealth. Go on, Herr von Bertram. What happened next? I must know all."

Bertram continued, thinking this the best possible opportunity to present himself to the young girl in a favourable light: "I was profoundly indignant at so contemptible an insult publicly offered to a lady whom I esteem highly. I instantly required Herr von Heydeck to retract his expressions. He refused to do so, and of course forced me to brand him as guilty of dishonourable conduct."

"And he? How did Herr von Heydeck resent your insult?"

"How could he resent it? Conscious of his guilt, he received my words in silence; he left BÜchner's, followed by his friend, Herr von Herwarth."

"And who authorized you to stand forth as my champion?" Eva asked, when she could collect herself.

This question was so sudden, and as she put it Eva's eyes flashed such angry menace at the lieutenant, that for an instant he knew not what to reply, and could only stammer out, "But--dearest FrÄulein Schommer, what could I do? Had I not a right, was it not my duty, to resent an insult offered you so disgracefully--in public?"

"No! You had as little right to do so as you have to annoy me by repeatedly addressing me as 'dearest' FrÄulein Schommer. You can hardly expect me to be grateful to you for thus, by your officious interference, making my name the theme of common gossip throughout the city!"

"But that fellow's insult?"

"Would have been forgotten as soon as it was uttered. Who cares, since I do not, whether or not Herr von Heydeck hates me and thinks me haughty and purse-proud? You had no right to accuse Herr von Heydeck of dishonourable conduct because you overheard him make use of certain expressions in conversation with an intimate friend. If my reputation should suffer in this matter it is your fault, not his. He has done me no injury; you have grossly insulted me!"

Bertram angrily bit his lip; he saw his fairest hopes shattered, and by his own fault; unconquerable dislike of him flashed in Eva's black eyes; he felt that she never would forgive him. This was the end of all his schemes for winning the hand of this beautiful heiress.

With rage in his heart he turned to go, and would have left her presence without another word, but a delicate hand laid on his arm detained him. "You must not leave me yet, Herr von Bertram," said Eva. "I have much to say to you; you have not even heard the favour I am about to ask of you. Forgive my irritation; I did not mean to offend you, and if I have done so unintentionally, you must ascribe it to the natural agitation produced by this unfortunate occurrence. Do not go. Must I remind you of your promise?"

What transformation was this? The angry sparkle no longer shone in the beautiful eyes; a smile played about the lovely mouth; the young girl's words contained no menace, but a gentle entreaty. Bertram looked at her in amazement; he could not understand the change, nor did he dream of the mental struggle through which Eva had just passed.

Her hasty temperament had led her against her will into a frank avowal of her sentiments, but scarcely had the words left her lips than she saw the mistake she had made. She wished to prevent the impending duel; this could only be done by an appeal to Bertram, and she had so offended him that he had turned to leave her. He must be appeased if she hoped to attain her end, and therefore she smothered the dislike she felt for him, therefore she smiled and spoke gently.

It had the desired effect. Bertram's anger passed away; he was induced to take a seat and to listen to her request.

"I must recur once more to this unfortunate quarrel," Eva continued. "You tell me that Herr von Heydeck received your insult in silence, and immediately afterwards left the veranda. Tell me frankly, do you believe that the quarrel will have no further consequences?"

"No; I do not."

"And what will happen now?"

"What Herr von Heydeck will do of course I cannot foresee. I only know what a man of honour would do in his place."

Again Eva's cheeks flushed: "Herr von Heydeck is a man of honour! No one dares to doubt it!"

"I dare to doubt it, FrÄulein Schommer," Bertram rejoined, with a scornful laugh. "I knew what I was saying when I spoke to him as I did, for a man who does not hesitate to calumniate an unprotected woman has no sense of honour!"

Eva, mindful of how necessary it was for her to keep her temper, made no reply to this remark, but asked, in as quiet a voice as she could command, "Do you think that Herr von Heydeck will accept your insult without resenting it?"

"I do not know; but in any case he cannot escape punishment for his unworthy conduct. If an officer should pocket calmly an accusation of dishonourable behaviour and not challenge his accuser, he would be outlawed from the corps of officers as a coward. Perhaps this will be Heydeck's fate. But if he is really brave enough to challenge me, I shall chastise him as he deserves for unworthy words with regard to a lady for whom I have the highest esteem, although I am so unfortunate as not to find favour in her eyes."

"A duel," Eva said, sadly, not noticing his last words, "a mortal combat, on account of a few thoughtless words."

"A duel will ensue if Heydeck has the courage to challenge me, which I very much doubt."

"You need not doubt it, Herr von Bertram. Herr von Heydeck has proved upon the field that fear is unknown to him; he will call you to account. Do you know that his skill with the pistol is unerring; that he never misses his aim; that your life will be at his mercy?"

"I also know no fear, FrÄulein Schommer. If it should be my fate to fall in this duel, I shall die content, for my life will be a sacrifice to my duty as a man of honour. Were the consciousness mine that you would give a kindly thought to my memory, I should meet death joyfully."

Bertram spoke these words with immense pathos, looking earnestly at Eva the while. To his chagrin, however, he could not but see that his display of feeling produced no effect whatever upon the obdurate beauty; indeed she scarcely seemed to hear what he had said. She gazed thoughtfully before her for a few minutes that seemed like hours to Bertram, and then, looking up at him, said hastily and with some agitation, "This duel must not be, Herr von Bertram. You can prevent it, and I now remind you of the promise you made me at the beginning of our conversation."

"I do not understand you, FrÄulein Schommer. It does not depend upon me, but upon Herr von Heydeck, to accept my reproof calmly without sending me a challenge."

"But you can so arrange matters that it need not be incumbent upon him to challenge you. I have read that if, in such cases, the offending man retracts what he has said and begs pardon of him whom he has offended, the quarrel is made up and never proceeds to a bloody issue. It is in your power thus to prevent any combat with Herr von Heydeck. Tell him that you recall your offensive remarks, and ask his pardon; there will be then no reason for his calling you out. Remember your promise, Herr von Bertram; I implore you, speak a conciliating word. You can do it, for Herr von Heydeck did not insult you, but me, and I forgive him. Remember that I never could have another happy moment if I thought that I had been the cause of mortal strife between two human beings. The blood spilled for me would cleave to me like the curse of Cain. Be magnanimous, Herr von Bertram, not towards your enemy, but towards me, I pray you, I conjure you. Make me the sacrifice of the pride which prevents you from speaking the conciliating word."

The first impression produced upon Bertram by Eva's words was that of immense surprise, her request astounded him; was it prompted by fear for his life? No, assuredly not, he had not forgotten the look of hatred which he had seen in her eyes a few moments before.

Suddenly another idea flashed upon him. Eva had defended Heydeck with a warmth she had never as yet shown to any one besides. Was it his life and his future for which she trembled if he should make up his mind to fight? Her tender consideration was, then, all for Heydeck; for him her intense desire that the quarrel should have a peaceful conclusion. She loved Bertram's enemy, hence her sad surprise entirely devoid of anger, when she heard that he had called her purse-proud. She loved Heydeck, who despised her! For an instant, but only for an instant, this thought filled Bertram with savage indignation; the next moment he smiled, for there occurred to him with the swiftness of thought a scheme whereby he might turn this love to his own account. New hopes immediately sprang to being within him; he would not try to win Eva's heart. What did he care for the girl's heart? She might give her hopeless, unrequited affection to whomsoever she chose if she would give her millions to the husband whom she hated.

Bertram needed but a few moments to decide how to act. Fortunately Eva gave him these few moments to ponder upon her request, and when he replied his mind was entirely made up. "You do not dream what you require of me, FrÄulein Schommer," he said with great gravity. "You ask nothing more or less than the entire annihilation of my future. I spoke the words in question to Heydeck in a public place before numerous witnesses; they must be retracted in the same manner before Heydeck can be justified in not fighting me."

"Do so, Herr von Bertram,--I implore you, do so!" Eva begged afresh.

"And if I do so, what have I to expect? I will tell you, FrÄulein Schommer; it is right that you should know the full extent of the request you have made of me. After I have made a public retractation all my comrades who have hitherto been my friends will fall away from me and despise me. 'He is a coward,' they will say; 'afraid evidently of Heydeck's well-known unerring aim.' My honour is lost, and with it my future career. I must leave the army, my comrades disdaining to serve with me! I am poor, FrÄulein Schommer. You, rolling in luxury, have no conception of what it means to be poor. Having left the service, I must accept any, even the meanest, position that can insure me sufficient income to maintain a wretched existence, if indeed I do not have recourse to a bullet through my brains to end a life that has been such a wretched failure. This is my future if I fulfil your request. To-day the world stands open to me. The highest honours that crown a military career may be mine. In a few years I shall be captain and in a condition to offer my hand, without exposing myself to the charge of mercenary motives, to the lovely girl to whom I long since gave my whole heart. These hopes you ask me to destroy with my own hand; for how could I, a beggar, degraded in my own eyes and those of the world, ever venture to aspire to one heaped with all that can make life desirable? I should, and justly, be repulsed with scorn. Have you a right to require this sacrifice of me? I have given you my promise, and if you require it I will keep it, for there is nothing that you can ask which I will not perform, but before I do so, before you ask the sacrifice of my entire future, you must know what are the delicious hopes which you thus annihilate. It is you, Eva Schommer, whom I have loved passionately from the first moment when my eyes were gladdened by the sight of you. I have religiously concealed this love, for what right had a poor dragoon to reveal it? The thought that you might suppose I wooed you for your wealth, and not for your sweet self alone, would have driven me frantic. Therefore I was silent; therefore I curbed the wild desires of my heart. I resolved to wait until with, increase of rank I could offer you a position not unworthy of you. Yes, Eva, I love you with an intensity of which you cannot dream, and hence my right to step forth as the champion of your honour; hence the wound I felt when you so harshly rebuked my presumption. It is but just that I should tell you all this. Now decide my fate; it is in your hands. Ask of me my life, or, what is infinitely more dear to me, my honour, I will sacrifice everything to you."

He ceased, and awaited Eva's reply. Possessed of histrionic talent by no means contemptible, conscious that this was a decisive moment in his life, he was really agitated; and this agitation lent to his words and manner an appearance of reality that could not but impress Eva with a belief in their sincerity. As he spoke, she grew very pale; she was not surprised,--she had long foreseen with annoyance that she should some day be obliged distinctly to reject his proffered affection; and yet she had not looked for a declaration of it just at this time.

What should she say to him? Had she a right to require of him the sacrifice of his entire future? And yet, if she did not do it, this terrible duel, sure to end in the death of one of the combatants, would inevitably take place. It was her sacred duty to prevent this. Bertram had given her a glimpse of a way in which the right to ask him to relinquish his entire future would be hers.

Sacrifice for sacrifice! Her heart seemed to cease beating at the thought. Never had the handsome dragoon been so utterly detestable to her as when he was pouring forth his glowing assurances of affection. But could she hesitate to sacrifice herself? Two human lives depended upon her decision. And what did she resign? A happy future? No! None such could be hers with this curse of wealth cleaving to her. What did it matter in the end whether she gave the hand so coveted to Bertram or to another? were not all her wooers alike indifferent to her? They all coveted her millions, and set no store by the poor girlish heart hungering and thirsting for true affection. Bertram was no worse than the rest; perhaps somewhat better,--at least he was willing to make a sacrifice for her. Certainly his protestations of love had seemed genuine.

And yet, another image would rise before her mental vision,--was there then one to whom she was not so entirely indifferent,--one lost to her forever? Fie! she would not think of him: he was her enemy; he hated and despised her, although he hardly knew her.

"Is there no other way, no honourable way, in which this duel can be avoided without imperilling your future?" Eva asked; her mind was already half made up to sacrifice herself, but she hesitated to say the fatal word.

"None."

"And you will keep your promise, Herr von Bertram? You will sacrifice your future to me if I desire it? You will make the public retractation which will prevent the duel?"

Bertram hesitated for one instant. He had read Eva's countenance; he hoped that his scheme had been successful, but he was not quite sure. It was possible that she might require of him the fulfilment of his promise and yet refuse him her hand! And, if she did, was not a hasty promise better broken than kept? Is it not the brave whom fortune favours? "I will! I swear it by my honour! In your hands lies my fate!" he cried, with well-feigned enthusiasm.

"I accept your promise, Herr von Bertram, and requite it by my own, that, as far as in me lies, I will try to repay the sacrifice you make to me. If you succeed in avoiding this duel, then, Herr von Bertram, I promise to deny you no request you may make of me."

"Eva, what are you doing?" Aline here interposed. "I adjure you to consider what you are saying, and the possible consequences of such a promise!"

Aline knew that her interference was hardly consistent with delicacy, but her friend's happiness was at stake, and speak out she must at all hazards.

"I have considered, and I know what I promise," Eva replied, calmly, in a clear, firm voice. Having once forced herself to embrace a resolution, she would not shrink from putting it into action.

Bertram could have shouted for joy, but he perfectly understood how to retrain any excessive exhibition of delight. "Have I heard aright? Can I trust my powers of comprehension, dearest Eva?" he said, with the due amount of rapture beaming in his eyes, as he took her hand and kissed it eagerly. "I hardly dare to believe it. Will you make me the happiest of men? Will you grant any request of mine, even one for this lovely hand?"

"Any one!"

Aline lost her self-possession entirely. She seemed to see the friend whom she loved about to plunge into an abyss from which she must rescue her. Greatly agitated, she arose, and interposed. "You are going too far, Eva!" she said, indignantly; "you must not purchase the prevention of this duel at such a price; and you, Herr von Bertram, if you are a man of honour, will not accept such a sacrifice,--you cannot thus take advantage of the misery of a weak girl. I know that Eva does not love you----"

Eva interrupted her friend. "Stay, Aline!" she said, in a tone so stern and decided that it forbade all further contradiction. "Even from you I cannot suffer any interference with my freedom of action. I will deceive no one,--certainly not Herr von Bertram," and she turned to the dragoon: "Aline has told you that I do not love you; she has told you the truth! I can give you my hand, if you demand it. I cannot give you my heart, but," she added, with a sad and bitter smile, "that will be a matter of perfect indifference to you."

"Can you for an instant doubt what to reply, Herr von Bertram?" Aline again interposed. Eva's harsh words had daunted her for a moment, but anxiety for her friend gave her courage to make one more attempt to save her. "Can you, if you are a man of honour, still ask Eva's hand of her?"

"Aline, I forbid you----!"

"You are certainly the mistress and I the servant, I know that, Eva. You often forget this; I never do! But now, the duty I owe to my mistress is lost in that which I owe to my friend. You must not obstinately persevere in making your whole future life unhappy, and if I cannot prevail with you to refrain from making such a sacrifice, I must appeal to Herr von Bertram, to his honour, which forbids his thus bartering for your hand. What hard-driven bargain for money could be half so disgraceful? You cannot accept this sacrifice, Herr von Bertram, for you can never succeed in winning Eva's heart!"

A mocking smile hovered upon the dragoon's lips, but he suppressed it, and said, in the quiet tone of perfect conviction, "You are wrong, FrÄulein von Schlicht! I shall win this noble heart; it will be conquered by my devoted affection. I am conscious of sufficient force and courage to enable me to win it, and therefore, knowing that I shall succeed in making her whom I love a happy wife, I claim the dear hand, although she gives it to me without her heart. Yes, dearest Eva, I hold you to your promise. I claim your 'yes'----"

"You are not yet justified in doing so. My promise was coupled with a condition," Eva said. She had listened with cold indifference to Bertram's words. She had no faith in this triumphant love; his mocking smile, fleeting although it were, had not escaped her, and had confirmed her in the conviction that he coveted only her hand and her fortune, and not her heart.

The dragoon was nothing daunted by her coldness; he was determined not to let the fortunate moment slip from his grasp.

"Your condition is fulfilled," he replied; "I give you my word of honour that the duel you so dread shall not take place. As soon as I leave you I will go to my friend Count Waldheim, and beg him to summon Herr von Heydeck to meet me at BÜchner's there to receive my apology for whatever offensive words I may have used towards him."

"What if, nevertheless, Herr von Heydeck persists in his challenge, since spoken words cannot be made unspoken?"

"That is not conceivable, but should it be so, I still promise you that there shall be no duel. I will repeat my apology, and, moreover, declare that I will accept no challenge. You have promised, dearest Eva, to atone to me, as far as you can, for the sacrifice of my honour which I make to you. You can thus atone if I may carry from your presence the 'yes' I long for. If I leave this house your future husband, I can say to my comrades that I am bound by a promise to my betrothed to avoid a duel with Herr von Heydeck. This statement, which will then be strictly true, will greatly modify public opinion with regard to my behaviour towards Herr von Heydeck. Be magnanimous, dearest Eva; give me this precious 'yes' now, that I may leave this house to fulfil your wishes, your promised bridegroom."

"Do not do this, Eva!" Aline entreated.

"And why not? What difference can it make whether what must be happens now or this evening?" Eva said, in a hopeless tone. "I am ready, Herr von Bertram, to accede to your wishes, but upon certain conditions----"

"I will fulfil any conditions that you can impose upon me----"

"By their non-fulfilment, Herr von Bertram, I now declare here, in the presence of my friend, you will forfeit the right to claim my promise. I allow you to make known our betrothal, I will present you as my betrothed to my uncle and aunt, but I require on the other hand that you should never lay claim to any of a lover's privileges, never venture to annoy me with professions of affection, or to look for any such from me; also, the time of our marriage must be appointed by myself alone, and you are upon no account to venture to influence me to shorten the period of our engagement----"

"You are cruel, Eva."

"I cannot be otherwise; let there be truth between us. I have told you that I do not love you, and that only a sense of the duty I owe you in atoning for the sacrifice you make me induces me to give you my hand. But my indifference would become hatred should you force me to endure caresses which I abhor,--the first attempt to do so dissolves our engagement and sets me free! Do you accept my conditions, Herr von Bertram?"

"You are very, very cruel; but I cannot say no."

"You agree, then, to my conditions?"

"Yes."

"So be it! Aline, let me present to you my betrothed. Follow me, Herr von Bertram; I will conduct you to my uncle and aunt."