wife; could she not, therefore, give him something that would make Stina childless, and cause her husband to hate her? "Ay, if he crossed her hand with silver."

This the peasant did. Whereupon she gave him a padlock, and whispered some words in his ear.

When Sidonia heard that the man could be brought to hate his wife by some means, her eyes flashed wildly, and she called the horrible old gipsy mother aside, and asked her to tell her

the charm.

Illa.-"Yes; but what would she give her ? She had two pretty golden rings on her finger; let her give them, and she should have the secret."

Hac." She would give one ring now, and the other if the charm succeeded. The peasant had only given her a few groschen."

Illa.-"Yes; but she had only given him half the charm." Hæc..—“ Was it anything to eat or drink?”

Illa.- -"No; there was no eating or drinking: the charm did it all."

Hæc. —“Then let her teach it to her, and if it succeeded by the young Lord of Wolgast, she would have both rings; if not, but one."

Illa.- -"It would succeed without doubt; if his young wife had no promise of offspring as yet, she would remain childless for ever.

Summa.-The old gipsy taught her the charm, the same with which she afterward bewitched the whole princely Pomeranian race, so that they perished childless from off the face of the earth;* and this charm Sidonia confessed upon the rack afterwards, in the Great Hall of Oderburg, July 28, A.D. 1620.

* Marginal note of Duke Bogislaff XIV.-"O ter quaterque detestabilem ! Et ego testis adfui tametsi in actis de industria hand notatis. (Oh, thrice accursed! And I, too, was present at this confession, although I am not mentioned in the protocol.)"

CHAPTER X.

How the robbers attack Prince Ernest and his bride in the Uckermann forest, and Marcus Bork and Dinnies Kleist come to their rescue.

THE young Lord of Wolgast and his young bride, the Princess Sophia Hedwig, arrived in due time at the court of Stettin, on a visit to their illustrious brother, Duke Johann Frederick. During the ten days of their stay, there was no end to the banquetings, huntings, fishings, and revellings of all kinds, to do honour to their presence.

The young lord has quite recovered from his long and strange illness. But the young bride complains a little. Whereupon my Lord of Stettin jests with her, and the courtiers make merry, so that the young bride blushes and entreats her husband to take her away from this impudent court of Stettin, and take her home to his illustrious mother at Wolgast.

Prince Ernest consents, but as the wind is contrary, he arranges to make the journey with a couple of carriages through the Uckermann forest, not waiting for the grand escort of cavaliers and citizens which his lady mother had promised to send to Stettin, to convey the bride with all becoming honour to her own future residence at Wolgast.

His brother reminded him of the great danger from the robber-band in the wood, now that the courts of justice were closed, and that Sidonia and Johann were hovering in the vicinity, ready for any iniquity. Indeed, he trusted the states would soon be brought to reason by the dreadful condition of the country, and give him the gold he wanted. These robbers would do more for him than he could do for himself. And this was not the only band that was to be feared; for, since the fatal bankruptcy of the Loitz family, robbers, and partisans, and freebooters had sprung up in every corner of the land.

Then he related the trick concerning his two Andalusian stallions. And Duke Barnim the elder told him of his loss at Zachan, and that no one else but the knave Appelmann had been at the bottom of it. So, at last, Prince Ernest half resolved to await the escort from Wolgast. However, the old Duke continued jesting with the bride, after his manner, so that the young Princess was blushing with shame every moment, and finally entreated her husband to set off at

once.

When his Grace of Stettin found he could prevail nothing, he bade them a kind farewell, promising in eight days to visit them at Wolgast, for the wedding festivities; and he sent stout Dinnies Kleist, with six companions, to escort them through the most dangerous part of the forest, which was a tract extending for about seven miles.

Now, when they were half-way through the forest, a terrible storm came on of hail, rain, thunder, and lightning; and though the Prince and his bride were safe enough in the carriage, yet their escort were drenched to the skin, and dripped like rivulets. The princely pair therefore entreated them to return to Falkenwald, and dry their clothes, for there was no danger to be apprehended now, since they were more than half through the wood, and close to the village of Mutzelburg.

So Dinnies and his companions took their leave, and rode off. Shortly after the galloping of a horse was heard, and this was Marcus Bork; for he was on his way to purchase the lands of Crienke, previous to his marriage with Clara von Dewitz, and had a heavy sack of gold upon his shoulder, and a servant along with him. Having heard at Stettin that the Prince and his young bride were on the road, he had followed them, as fast as he could, to keep them company.

By this time they had reached Barnim's Cross, and the Prince halted to point it out to his bride, and tell her the legend concerning it; for the sun now shone forth from the

But he first addressed his

clouds, and the storm was over. faithful Marcus, and asked, had he heard tidings lately of his cousin Sidonia ? But he had heard nothing. He would hear soon enough, I'm thinking.

Then seeing that his good vassal Marcus was thoroughly wet, his Grace advised him to put on dry clothes; but he had none with him. Whereupon his Grace handed him his own portmanteau out of the coach window, and bid him take what he wanted.

Marcus then lifted the money-bag from his shoulder, which his Grace drew into the coach through the window— and sprang into the wood with the portmanteau, to change his clothes. While the Prince tarried for him, he related the story of Barnim's Cross to his young wife, thus :—

"You must know, dearest, that my ancestor, Barnim, the second of the name, was murdered, out of revenge, in this very spot by one of his vassals, named Vidante von Muckerwitze. For this aforesaid ancestor had sent him into Poland under some pretence, in order the better to accomplish his designs upon the beautiful Mirostava of Warborg, Vidante's young wife. But the warder of Vogelsang, a village about two miles from here, pleasantly situated on the river Haff, and close to which lay the said Vidante's castle, discovered the amour, and informed the knight how he was dishonoured. His wrath was terrible when the news was brought to him, but he spoke no word of the matter until St. John's day in the year

But here his Grace paused in his story, for he had forgotten the year; so he drove on the carriage close up to the cross, where he could read the date-"St John's day, A.D. MCCXCII."—and there stopped, with the blessed cross of our Lord covering and filling up the whole of the coach window.

Ah, well it is said—Prov. xx. 24—" Each man's going is of the Lord, what man is there who understandeth his way?"

Now when the Princess had read the date for herself, she asked, what had happened to the Duke, his ancestor? To which the Prince replied—

"Here, in these very bushes, the jealous knight lay concealed, while the Duke was hunting. And here, in this spot, the Duke threw himself down upon the grass to rest, for he was weary. And he whistled for his retinue, who had been separated from him, when the knight sprang from his hidingplace and murdered him where he lay. His false wife he

reserved for a still more cruel death.

"For he brought a coppersmith from Stettin, and had him make a copper coffin for the wretched woman, who was obliged to help him in the work. Then he bade her put on her bridal dress, and forced her to enter the coffin, where he had her soldered up alive, and buried. And the story goes, that when any one walks over the spot, the coffin clangs in the earth like a mass-bell, to this very day."

Meanwhile Marcus had retreated behind a large oak, to dress himself in the young Duke's clothes; but the wicked robber crew were watching him all the time from the wood, and just as he drew the dry shirt over his head, before he had time to put on a single other garment, they sprang upon him with loud shouts, Sidonia the foremost of all, screaming, "Seize the knave! seize the base spy! he is my greatest enemy!" So Marcus rushed back to the coach, just as he was, and placing the cross as a shield between him and the robbers, cried out loudly to his Highness for a sword.

The Prince would have alighted to assist him, but his young bride wound her arms so fast around him, shrieking till the whole wood re-echoed, that he was forced to remain inside. Up came the robber-band now, and attacked the coach furiously; musket after musket was fired at it and the horses, but luckily the rain had spoiled the powder, so they threw away their muskets, while Sidonia screamed, “Seize the false-hearted liar, who broke his marriage promise to me!