her look, so inspired her manner, that what she described seemed actually
to have taken place then and there. They noticed, also, that the bridegroom
hid his face in his hands, and was weeping.

"Dead!" she repeated again, her lips quivering faster and faster, and her
voice more broken. "And there they scoop him a grave; and there, without a
shroud, they lay him down in that damp, reeking earth, the only son of a
proud father, the only idolized brother of a fond sister. There he lies, my
father's son, my own twin brother, a victim to this deadly poison. Father,"
she exclaimed, turning suddenly, while the tears rained down her beautiful
cheeks, "father, shall I drink it now?"

The form of the old judge was convulsed with agony. He raised not his head,
but in a smothered voice he faltered:--

"No, no, my child; no!"

She lifted the glittering goblet, and let it suddenly fall to the floor,
where it was dashed in a thousand pieces. Many a tearful eye watched her
movement, and instantaneously every wine-glass was transferred to the
marble table on which it had been prepared. Then, as she looked at the
fragments of crystal, she turned to the company, saying: "Let no friend
hereafter who loves me tempt me to peril my soul for wine. Not firmer are
the everlasting hills than my resolve, God helping me, never to touch or
taste the poison cup. And he to whom I have given my hand, who watched over
my brother's dying form in that last solemn hour, and buried the dear
wanderer there by the river in that land of gold, will, I trust, sustain me
in that resolve."

His glistening eyes, his sad, sweet smile, were her answer. The judge left