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"My daughter!" shrieked Wengelin, defiantly, "before she should be delivered to you, monster! I would take her life as Virginius took that of his well-beloved child!" The general said not a word. For a time the two men eyed each other like two enraged tigers; but General Melac wasted no time in vain indignation.
"Marie Wengelin will have her father's life to answer for, as well as the lives of her fellow-citizens," cried another voice. "It is her duty to sacrifice herself." At this moment the loud, shrill tones of an affrighted voice were heard calling out, "Marie!
Marie! my child!" and the figure of Frau Wengelin, with outstretched arms, was now seen at the window, whence the mother and daughter had watched the return of the deputies. Marie would have responded to that pathetic appeal, but as she rose from her knees, and attempted to move, she was forced and held back by the crowd.
Without sympathy and without witnesses shall he die, and in his last moments, when his flesh quivers with agony, and the devouring flames shall consume his odious body, let him think on Marie Wengelin, and on me. her lover and betrothed husband Caspar!" Without another word, he drew from Melac's finger his signet-ring, and began to descend the winding-stair.
General, the name of my betrothed was Marie Wengelin." "Marie Wengelin!" echoed Eugene, with a shudder. "I have heard of her tragic end. It was she that delivered Esslingen, but was " "Marie! Marie!" cried Caspar, hiding his face with his hands. Eugene kindly touched him on the shoulder.
Mother and daughter now relapsed into silence, for the deputies, their heads despondingly held down, were to be seen making their way through the crowd. Frau Wengelin could not articulate the words she longed to speak; hut Marie, clasping her hands in agony, cried out: "He is not there! My father is missing!"
The old man understood those pleading looks, and answered them with tears. "Where is my father?" cried Marie, with the strength of her growing agony; and, as the deputy was still silent, the multitude around took up the young girl's words and shouted: "Where is her father? Tell us where is the Burgomaster Wengelin?" "Is he dead?" murmured Marie, her teeth chattering with fear.
Believe me, there is balm for every wound; and I, who tell you this, have suffered unspeakably." "General, my Marie is dead, and died by her own hand." "She died the death of a heroine. But for you, it is heroism to live, and so to live that the world may esteem you worthy of having been loved by Marie Wengelin. Ah! you are no cutthroat.
"Come, my child," said the poor mother, "the citizens will not leave the house until they have seen you." And compelling her forward, Frau Wengelin, with some difficulty, brought her as far as the foot of the staircase.
Frau Wengelin suppressed her sobs, that she might gaze upon her dying child; while her father stood by, the picture of dumb despair. Caspar held her to his heart, dimly apprehending the fearful tragedy of the hour, and the guests pressed noiselessly around, vainly striving to catch a glimpse of their victim's face.
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