of the noble and potent grape-juice, nay, now and then I played the part of “warder” to Uncle Christian; yet meseemed that it was only by another’s will or ancient habit that I raised a warning finger.  Was I in truth at a banquet or was I only dreaming that I sat as a guest at the richly spread board?  The only certain matter was that the storm was overpast, and that no hail nor rain now beat upon the window panes.  How wet must my Hans be, who had ridden forth in court array, without a cloke to cover him.

To judge by the voices and demeanor of the menfolk the end of the endless meal must surely be not far off, and indeed dishes were by this time being served with packets of spices and fruits and pies and sweetmeats for the little ones at home.  I drew a deeper breath, and methought the company would soon rise from the table, forasmuch as that Jost Tetzel had already quitted his seat.  Then I beheld his pale face through a curtain and his lean hand beckoning to my grand-uncle.  He likewise rose, and Ursula followed him.  Forthwith, from without came a strange noise of footsteps to and fro and many voices.  A serving man came to hail forth Master Ebner and Uncle Tucher, and the muttering and stir without waxed louder and louder.  The guests sat in silence, gazing and enquiring of each other.  Somewhat strange, and for certain somewhat evil, had befallen.

My heart beat in my temples like the clapper of an alarm-bell.  That which was going forward, and to which one after another was called forth, was my concern; it must be, and mine alone.  I felt I could not longer keep my place, and I had pushed back my seat when I saw Uncle Tucher standing by Cousin Maud, and his kind and worthy face, still ruddy from the wine he had drunk, was a very harbinger of horror and woe.  He bent over my cousin to speak in her ear.

My eyes were fixed on his lips, and lo! she, my second mother, started up hastily as any young thing and, clasping her hand to her breast she well-nigh screamed:  “Jesu-Maria!  And Margery!”

All grew dark before my eyes.  A purple mist shrouded the table, the company, and all I beheld.  I shut my eyes, and when presently I opened them once more, close before me, as it were within reach, behold the yellow headstone with black letters thereon, as in my dream; and albeit I closed my eyes again the name “Hans Haller” was yet there and the letters faded not, nay, but waxed greater and came nigher, and meseemed were as a row of gaping werewolves.

I held fast by the tall back of my heavy chair to save me from falling, on my knees; but a firm hand thrust it aside, and I was clasped in a pair of old yet strong arms to a faithful heart, and when I heard Cousin Maud’s voice in mine ear, though half-choked with tears, crying:  “My poor, poor, dear good Margery!” meseemed that somewhat melted in my heart and gushed up to my eyes; and albeit none had told me, yet knew I of a certainty that I was a widow or ever I was a wife, and that Cousin Maud’s tears and my own were shed, not for Herdegen, but for him, for him. . . .