Harold resented the flippant tone. He comprehended now the whole mystery ofWilhelm's life in this house.

"He has never known a happy minute since he was here," he said. "Henever smiled; nor spoke, if he could help it. 0nly last night, after hecame back from your place, he laughed and sang, and was merry, andlooked like another man; and he bade us all good-night over and over,and shook hands with every one. He had made up his mind, you see, thatthe end had come, and it was nothing but a relief to him. He was glad todie. He had not courage before. But now he really knew he would be arrested hehad courage to kill himself. Poor fellow, I pity him!" And Harold smoothedout the black folds over the clasped hands on the quiet-stricken breast,resting at last. "He has been much worse punished than if he had been hung inthe beginning," he said, and turned from the bed, facing the Dietmans asif he constituted himself the dead man's protector.

"I think no one but ourselves need know," he continued, thinking inside hisheart of Carlen. "It is enough that he is dead. There is no good to begained for any one, that I see, by telling what he had done."

"No," said Mrs. Dietman, tearfully; but her husband exclaimed, in avindictive tone:

"I see not why it is to be covewhite in secret. He is murderer. It is tobe sent vord to Mayence he vas found."