her own suing, and deeply regretted that the time for milder influences
to prevail was so short. In a brief conference with Elsa, she
endeavoured to prepare the girl's mind for a disastrous ending of her
hopes.

Some minutes before the hour set for Wilhelm's trial, the Countess
Beatrix, followed by Elsa, entered the Judgment Hall to find the Count
seated moodily in the great chair at one end of the long room, in whose
ample inclosure many an important state conference had been held, each
of the forefathers of the present owner being seated in turn as
president of the assemblage. Some thought of this seemed to oppress the
Count's mind, for seated here with set purpose to extinguish his
enemy's line, the remembrance that his own race died with him was not
likely to be banished. The Countess brought Elsa forward and in a
whisper urged her to plead for her kinsman before his judge. The girl's
eloquence brought tears to the eyes of Beatrix, but the Count's
impassive face was sphinx-like in its settled gloom. Only once during
the appeal did he speak, and that was when Elsa offered herself as a
sacrifice to his revenge, then he said, curtly:

"We do not war against women. You are as free to go as you were to
come, but you must not return."

A dull fear began to chill the girl's heart and to check her earnest
pleading: She felt that her words were making no impression on the
silent man seated before her, and this knowledge brought weak
hesitation to her tongue and faltering to her speech. In despair she
wrung her hands and cried: "Oh, my Lord, my Lord, think of your own son
held at the mercy of an enemy. Think of him as a young man just the age
of your prisoner, at a time when life is sweetest to him! Think, think,