appeared with Otto; the boat was near oversetting as they brought
him into it. Deathly pale lay he there, a beautifully formed marble
statue, the picture of a young gladiator fallen in the arena.

The friends busied themselves about him, rubbing his breast and
hands, whilst two others rowel toward the land.

"He breathes!" said Wilhelm.

Otto opened his eyes; his lips moved; his gaze became firmer; a
deep crimson spread itself over his breast and countenance; he
raised himself and Wilhelm supported him. Suddenly a deep sigh
burst from his breast; he thrust Wilhelm from him, and, like a
madman, seized an article of dress to cover himself with; then,
with a convulsive trembling of the lips, he said to Wilhelm, who
held his hand, "I HATE YOU!"



CHAPTER VI

--"Art thou Prometheus, pierced with wounds?
The Vulture thou that tugs at his heart?"
J. CHR. V. ZEDLITZ'S Todtenkranze.

Not half an hour after this adventure a carriage rolled toward the
city--a large carriage, containing three seats, but, beside the
coachman, there was only one person within. This was Otto; his lips
were pale; death, it is true, had touched them. Alone he dashed
forward; his last words to Wilhelm had been his only ones.