"But the money!" said he impatiently. "Clärchen, there is money in that table!"

But how was it that they had never heard the noise before? It was a mystery. Wilhelm at last suggested that in all probability the shock which the piece of furniture had received in its fall had loosened part of its machinery. He tried to find an opening, but none was to be The table was turned upside down, and placed in every imaginable and unimaginable position; but his curiosity still remained ungratified. Clärchen felt very uncomfortable. She had often remarked Katerina's solicitude about that particular article of furniture, and she was fearful she might return at the very moment when Wilhelm was handling it so unceremoniously. She begged him to restore it to its original position, and very reluctantly he at last consented. When Katerina returned, everything was in its proper place; and in a day or two the mysterious table was forgotten. Time passed swiftly on, and there wanted but ten days of the time when Clärchen and her lover were to be united.

One evening (it was late, and Clärchen had been a long time waiting for Wilhelm's accustomed visit), when he entered with a countenance clouded with care. His look was so troubled that Clärchen was almost afraid to question him. Those who have known much sorrow are ever inclined to contemplate the worst, and her hand shook as she placed it within his. There sat Katerina, her eyes fixed on the pair, in her favourite position, with her feet on the stove fender, and her hands crossed on her knee. Clärchen was unwilling to disturb or vex her, so she beckoned Wilhelm to follow her out of the room.

"Secrets!" muttered Katerina, and her voice sounded irritable, for she felt that her adopted child was already beginning to cast her off. In the mean while Wilhelm was undergoing the anxious inquiries of his betrothed. Something is wrong, dear Wilhelm, and you must tell me what it is; you are unhappy; and while I see you so, I can think of nothing else."

"Clärchen," replied Wilhelm, in a tone almost of despair, “my employer is ruined, and I am dismissed. I know not how or where to obtain another situation. I have no friends, and we have no money to place me in another situation. Clärchen, our hopes of happiness are over, for you shall not marry a beggar."

Bad as this news certainly was, it by no means came up to Clärchen's expectations. She whispered words of hope, and represented to him that while youth and health were left them they need not despair. But she argued in vain; Wilhelm listened in gloomy silence, till at length a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and he exclaimed, with a degree of animation which surprised Clärchen

"There is hope for us, good hope, mein geliebte Katerina. She has money,- -we know she has; she must, and will help us."

Clärchen shook her head; she was now as anxious to depress his hopes, as she had before been desirous to raise them. "Do not trust to that; we must not offend Katerina; we must not allude to the discovery we made the other night. Promise me this, dear Wilhelm; we shall make her angry, and we shall gain nothing." But Wilhelm would not promise; he was bent upon making an attempt to soften Katerina's heart. Money he knew she had; and that would make them so happy! She could not refuse. Clärchen felt and looked frightened and agitated when they returned, but Wilhelm's appearance was that of a than

whose mind was made up, and who was not to be turned from his purpose.

“Frau Katerina," he began, as soon as he was seated, "Clärchen and I are very unhappy; I have lost my employment; and without it we cannot marry. What is to be done?

"You are quite in the right, Herr Martin," said the old woman quietly. "You cannot marry Clärchen without money; so, as far as I can see, you cannot marry her at all."

The composed tone in which this reply was made irritated Wilhelm's temper; and, disregarding the warning looks of Clärchen, he allowed it to get the better of his judgment so far as to say, "Frau Katerina, you owe Clärchen a great deal. She has worked hard for you, and you ought to do something for her. In that table you have money hidden, I know you have, and some of it is Clärchen's. Come," he added, having recovered his naturally good temper during this explosion," she must have a marriage portion: how much is it to be? During this imprudent speech Katerina's wrath had been gradually rising; and at its conclusion she seemed almost choking with passion. "Mein Gott!" she began, "who are you, that dare to dictate to me? Take Clärchen, and welcome; she is no child of mine! but money I have none to give, and would not give it if I had. Money in a table!" she continued, with a scornful laugh. "Who in their senses ever dreamt of such a thing before? Now take this, Wilhelm Martin, for your impertinence, I call you a thief, or quite as bad, for having pryed into my property; and never while I live shall you come within my door again!" As Katerina delivered herself of this most inhospitable speech, she stood on tiptoe, facing her surprised and almost terrified guest, her hand held menacingly towards him, and her bright black eyes glaring with fury.

Clärchen, who had stood aloof from the scene, wringing her hands, and looking on in direful expectation, now hastened to her lover, and clinging to his arm, endeavoured with all her force to draw him to Katerina's side, and join with her in endeavours to pacify her anger. But Wilhelm's indignation was now fairly roused, his pride was hurt, and without deigning any reply to Katerina's invectives, or vouchsafing a look to his unhappy mistress, he hurried from the room, and the house, slamming the doors after him so that the echoes answered the sounds through all parts of the house.

"Mein Gott!" said Clärchen, sinking into a chair, and bursting into tears. And "Mein Gott!" responded Katerina, as with another burst she placed her feet upon the fender. But this time the former was too busy with her own sorrows to give any attention to Katerina's sobs; besides which she had turned her lover out of the house, and Clärchen felt as angry as it was in her nature to do, and, to her companion's surprise, she never once asked her what was the matter.

At length, and after a silence of some minutes' duration, (which seemed an age to Katerina, who was never in the habit of bridling her tongue,) she could bear it no longer, and abruptly addressed the weeping girl. "Clärchen, dear, I am a foolish, passionate old woman, but you must bear with me. I did not intend to say all I did to Wilhelm, and I am sorry now." This was enough, and more than enough, for Clärchen; she threw her arms round Katerina's neck, and again and again assured her of her forgiveness and Wilhelm's too,-she would answer for Wilhelm. Should she go for him now?”

No, my child," said Katerina; "to-morrow will be time enough. To-night I must speak to you alone. Wilhelm made no bad guess, when he said there was money in that table; though how he came to think so is more than I can imagine. Clärchen, I am not the selfish avaricious old woman you must have thought me. Do not interrupt me-I know how it must have been. And now listen to me. From a child, and till I knew you, Clärchen, no one human creature has ever appeared to love me. I know not why they should; for I was always a miserable object blighted from my birth, and with the curse of deformity upon my person. Clärchen, I have often seen you sad, and I have wondered how one who was fair and well shaped, and could be loved, should know what sorrow was. I was early left an orphan; I could not work, and I was compelled to trust to the charity of others for my daily bread. I did not beg; but there must have been something in my appearance which excited compassion, for few ever passed me without putting a piece of money in my hand, small or large, according to the riches or the disposition of the giver. I lived very sparingly; and what I did not spend in absolute necessaries I carefully laid by. I had no object in view when I did this; but it was an interest and an employment, and for nearly sixty years I continued to accumulate riches, not knowing who should gather them. But when I learnt to love you, Clärchen, and to feel that for the first time in my life my affection was returned, then, indeed, I looked with pleasure on my hoard, I was heaping it up for you-yes, dear Clärchen, for you, and none other. I believe Wilhelm to be an honest man,-I am sure he loves you,—and yet I would not trust him with your gold. From this day it is yours; but first promise me that it shall not be in the power of your husband to spend or take it from you. In that table, my Clärchen,—and I will show you the secret of the drawer,-in that table are four thousand marks -(£240), take them, and be happy; but as it will not be easy to persuade Wilhelm that I told him the truth when I assured him I was penniless, show him a thousand marks, and conceal the rest. Will you do this?"

Clärchen's expressions of gratitude were fervent, and from her heart; but still she hesitated some time before she gave the required promise, it seemed so hard to deceive poor Wilhelm. But as Katerina was firm, and she saw no other alternative, she at last complied with her conditions, and reluctantly gave the pledge which Katerina demanded. "And now, dear Clärchen, tell me you are happy, tell me it is the poor little despised Katerina that has made you so, and I shall be happy too."

"I am," said the grateful girl; " and you are the best, the kindest, and the dearest friend in the world. We shall all be happy, and Wilhelm will come to-morrow and thank you too. You must never leave us; for this money is still yours, whatever you may say. And now you can never think again that no one loves you."

In this way the joyous Clärchen talked on in mere exhilaration of spirits, till she saw that Katerina looked worn and tired. With anxious affection she then hurried her to bed, performing for her all those little offices of kindness which her helpless state required. Clärchen's last act was to kneel down by her bed, and pray for the protection of that Great Being whose eye is ever over all, even the meanest of his creatures.

Pray aloud, my Clärchen," said the old woman; "let me hear your voice. It soothes me, and I hear it afterwards in my dreams."

The prayer was short but impressive; and as Clärchen rose from her knees she kissed Katerina's forehead, and received her nightly "God bless you, my child," with a grateful heart.

That night Clärchen slept long and soundly, no bewildering or terrific dreams had spread alarm round her pillow, and she awoke refreshed, and with a clear recollection of the pleasant thoughts which had been hers when sleep had thrown its curtain over them. She thought it must be late, for the room was very light; and yet Katerina was not moving, and she was always the first to awake. She had half made up her mind to turn herself round again, and by a change of position to prolong her sleep, when, lifting her head for a moment from the pillow, she perceived a dark stream (it seemed to her of blood) slowly meandering along the floor towards her bed. It came from that on which Katerina lay, and the horror-stricken girl had but just strength and courage left to give one glance at its miserable occupant, when she fell backwards in a death-like swoon. She remained a long time insensible, for no one came to her assistance, and she was left to recover as best she might. With her returning consciousness there came an undefined recollection of the horrors she had witnessed; still it all seemed to her to have been a hideous dream, rather than a reality, and with closed eyes she endeavoured to collect her scattered senses, and to hope that she had not in very truth gazed on the corpse of her benefactress. But she could not long deceive herself, the vision had been too real, and with a desperate effort she opened her eyes, and fixed them on Katerina's bed. The sight was indeed awful. The face was covered with a pillow, but the body was exposed, and on the left breast were two large and ghastly wounds, from which the life-blood had flowed in copious floods.

In a moment Clärchen sprang from her bed, and hurrying to the door, called loudly for assistance. No sound was heard in reply; for, owing to the lateness of the hour, the house was nearly empty. Regardless of appearances, for her agony of mind was great, she flew, rather than ran, to Frau Martin's room, and, half-undressed as she was, threw open the door, and, to the great surprise of its inmates, exclaimed,

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Help! for God's sake, help, Frau Martin! She is dead! - murdered! Oh! what shall we do? Come with me. But where is Wilhelm?" she asked; for in that forlorn moment she felt a longing for the support of him she loved.

The cup which Frau Martin was employed in washing when Clärchen entered fell from her hand in the extremity of her surprise, and she gazed upon her with an expression almost as vacant as that of the old man who sat by the fire, in happy ignorance of the horrid adventure. "Wilhelm did not return home last night," she began, as soon as she recovered breath and power to speak.

"Not returned!" interrupted Clärchen, to whose quick imagination a thousand added horrors immediately presented themselves.

"Where did he go? Speak to me tell me, for the love of Heaven, do you know anything of him?”

"I have not seen him since yesterday morning," said his mother, beginning to catch a portion of the alarm which was so visible in Clärchen's features. "Where he is I know not; but he often spends the night abroad, when there is early work to be done in the morning. There is nothing to fear on his account."

"Perhaps not," said the bewildered girl, passing her hand over her forehead, as if endeavouring to collect her wandering senses, " perhaps not; but I fear I know not what and that horrid room!—and my poor, poor friend who lies there murdered! Oh! come with me there. I am very weak, but I will try to look upon her again."

With trembling steps they returned to Katerina's room, the appearance of which confirmed all that Clärchen had reported. There lay the murdered woman, stiff, cold, and dead. Frau Martin was about to lift the pillow from the face, when a hand was laid on her arm. She turned round and beheld the Ritters Diener!

"Disturb not the dead," he said in a low stern voice. "Justice must have her course. I know the murderer."

As he spoke, Clärchen's cheek grew paler still, and she clung to Frau Martin for support. The Herr Pruss was gone, but his awful words were ringing loudly in her ears.

"We can do no good here," said Frau Martin. the police, and we had better go back to my room. man, will want me."

"He is gone for

My husband, poor

And she was left

Go," said Clärchen; "I will remain here." alone with the dead. In shuddering horror and deep grief she watched beside the disfigured corpse.

But she had not long to watch alone. Within the short space of ten minutes from the departure of the Ritters Diener the room was crowded with the officers of justice. Once and again did Clärchen fix her tearful eyes upon them. Could it really be? Was it indeed Wilhelm who was there among them, bound, and a prisoner! It was but too true! Heinrich Pruss and the officers had met him on their way to Katerina's abode, and the former had denounced him as the murderer. He was led close to the bed, and as the pillow was removed from the face of the deceased he was observed to shiver and turn very pale. With distended eyes, and a fearful expression of intense anxiety on her countenance, Clärchen scrutinised his every movement, (for she was not permitted to approach him,) and when, with clasped hands, he uttered the words, "So help me Heaven as I am innocent of this deed of blood," she fell on her knees, and thanked God aloud. Wilhelm was led away to prison, and Clärchen was left to her misery and her desolation.

When she began to recover in some degree from the state of stupefaction to which she had been reduced by this appalling blow, her first thought was to hasten to Frau Martin, and to consult with her on the measures most proper to be taken in order to prove her son's innocence. She found that the poor old woman had already been made aware of her son's implication in the business, and as Clärchen looked upon the mother's tears of agony, she almost envied the old man his withered faculties and placid state of unconsciousness. The sword was suspended over the head of his only child, and he was playing with a string of glass beads in the chimney corner.

Wilhelm was taken before the senate, and the principal witness against him was Heinrich Pruss. He related the circumstance of the fall of the table, and the sound of money within. This fact could not have been suppressed, as Clärchen was present at the time. He swore to having heard a discussion between Wilhelm and Clärchen as regarded that money, during which the latter had endeavoured to dissuade Wilhelm from appropriating it to his own use. He made oath