hundred louis d'or. And now go." And with a scornful look at
Weingarten's pale countenance, he turned to the window.

Weingarten hurried past the halls and chambers, and entered Rosa's
room. She read in his pale, sad face that he had no good news to
tell her.

"Has it all been in vain?" said she, breathlessly.

"In vain?" cried he, with a scornful smile. "No, not in vain. The
king rewarded me well; much better than Judas Iscariot was rewarded.
I have earned a large sum of money, and am still to receive a
thousand crowns. Quiet yourself, Rosa; we will be very happy, for we
will have money. Only I must ask if the proud daughter of the royal
castle-warder will give her hand to a man who can offer her no name,
no position. Rosa, I warn you, think well of what you do. You loved
me because I was a count, and had position to offer you. From to-
day, I have no position, no name, no honor, no family. Like
Ahasuerus, I will wander wearily through the world, happy and
thanking God if I can find a quiet spot where I am not known, and my
name was never heard. There I will rest, and trust to chance for a
name. Rosa, will you share with me this existence, without sunshine,
without honor, without a name?"

She was trembling so, that she could barely speak.

"I have no choice," stammered she, at last; "I must follow you, for
my honor demands that I should be your wife. I must go with you;
fate wills it."