"Oh! lovely are ye, love and faith,
Enduring to the last!

She had her meed-one smile in death!
And his worn spirit pass'd.

While even, as o'er a martyr's grave,
She knelt on that sad spot;

And, weeping, bless'd the God who gave
Strength to forsake him not."

THE MILLER'S MAID.

NEAR the hamlet of Udorf, on the banks of the Rhine, not far from Bonn, there yet stands the mill which was the scene of the following adventure:

One Sunday morning, the miller and his family set out as usual to attend service at the nearest church in the village of Heasel, leaving the mill, to which the dwelling-house was attached, in charge of his servant maid Hänchen, a bold-hearted girl, who had been some time in his service. The youngest child, who was still too little to go to church, remained also under his care.

As Hänchen was busily engaged in preparing dinner for the family, she was interrupted by a visit from her admirer Heinrich Botteler; he was an idle, graceless fellow, and her master, who knew his character well, had forbidden him the house; but Hänchen could not believe all the stories she heard against her lover, and was sincerely attached to him. On this occasion she greeted him kindly, and not only got him something to eat at once, but found time in the midst of her business to sit down and have a gossip with him, while he did justice to the fare set before him. As he was eating he let fall his knife, which he asked her to pick up for him; she playfully remonstrated, telling him she feared, from all she heard, he did little enough work, and ought at least wait upon himself; in the end, however, she stooped down to pick up the knife, when the treacherous villain drew a dagger from under his coat, and caught her by the nape of the neck, griping her throat firmly with his fingers to prevent her screaming; then, with an oath, he desired her to tell him where her master kept his money, threatening to kill her if

she did not comply with his demand. The surprised and terrified girl in vain attempted to parley with him; he still held her tightly in his choking grasp, leaving her no other choice but to die or betray her master. She saw there was no hope of softening him or changing his purpose, and with the full conviction of his treachery, all her native courage woke in her bosom. Affecting however to yield to what was inevitable, she answered him in a resigned tone, that what must be, must; only, if he carried off her master's gold, he must take her with him too; for she could never stay to hear their suspicions and reproaches, entreating him at the same time to relax his grasp of her throat, for she could hardly speak, much less do what he bid her, while he held her so tight. At length he was induced to quit his hold on her reminding him that he must lose no time, or the family would be returning from church. She then led the way to her master's bed-room, and showed him the coffer where he kept his money. 66 Here," she said, reaching to him an axe which lay in a corner of the room, 'you can open it with this while I run up stairs to put all my things together, besides the money I have saved since I have been here.

66

Completely deceived by her apparent readiness to enter into his plans, he allowed her to leave the room, only exhorting her to be as quick as possible, and was immediately absorbed in his own operations; first opening the box, and then disposing of the money about his person. In the meanwhile Hänchen, instead of going up stairs to her own room, crept softly along several passages till she again reached her master's chamber. It was the work of a moment to shut and bolt the door upon him; and this done, she rushed out to the outer door of the mill to give the alarm. The only being in sight was her master's little boy, a child of five years old; to him she called with all her might," Run, run to meet your father as he comes from church; tell him we shall all be murdered if he does not come back." The frightened child did as she bid him, and set off running on the road she pointed out.

Somewhat relieved by seeing that the child understood her, and would make her case known, she sank down for a moment on the stone seat before the door, and full of conflicting emotions of grief and thankfulness for her escape, she burst into tears. But at this moment a shrill whistle aroused her attention; it

no one.

was from her prisoner Heinrich, who, opening the grated window above her head, shouted out to some accomplice without, to catch the child that was running away so fast, and to kill the girl. Hänchen looked around in great alarm, but saw The child still continued to run with all his might, and she hoped that it was but a false alarm to excite her fear and overcome her resolution; when, just as the child reached a hollow in the next field (the channel of a natural drain), she saw a ruffian start up from the bed of the drain, and snatching up the child in his arms, hasten with him towards the mill, in accordance with the directions of his accomplice. In a moment she perceived the full extent of her danger, and formed her plan for escaping it.

Retreating into the mill, she double locked and bolted the door, the only apparent entrance into the building—every other means of obvious access being prevented by strong iron gratings fixed up against all the windows--and then took her post at the upper casement, determined to await patiently her master's return, and her consequent delivery from that dangerous position; or her own death, if indeed inevitable; for she was fully resolved to enter into no terms, and that nothing should induce her to give up her master's property into the robber's hands. She had hardly had time to secure herself in her retreat, when the ruffian, holding the screaming child in his arms, and brandishing a knife in one hand, came up, and bid her open the door, or he would break it down, adding many awful oaths and threats; to which her only answer was, that she put her trust in God. Heinrich, who, from his window, was witness of this colloquy, now called out to cut the child's throat before her eyes if she still persisted in her refusal. Poor Hänchen's heart quailed at this horrible threat; for a moment her resolution failed, but only for a moment. The death of the child could be no gain to them, while her own death was certain if she admitted the assailant, and her master too would be robbed. She had no reason either, to suppose that her compliance would save the life of the child. It was to risk all against nothing, and she resolved to hold out to the last, though the villain from without renewed his threats, saying, that if she would not open the door to him he would kill the child, and then set fire to the mill over her head. "I put my trust in God," was still the poor girl's answer.

In the meanwhile the ruffian set down the child for a moment to look about for combustibles to carry out his threat ; in this search he discovered a mode of entering the mill unthought of by Hänchen. It was a large aperture in the wall, communicating with the great wheel, and the other machinery of the mill; and it was a point entirely unprotected, for it had never been contemplated that any one would seek to enter by so dangerous an inlet. Triumphant at this discovery, he returned to tie the hands and feet of the poor child, to prevent its escape, and then stole back to the aperture, by which he intended to effect an entrance. The situation of the building prevented Hänchen seeing anything of this; but a thought had meanwhile struck her. It was Sunday, when the mill was never at work; if, therefore, the sails were seen in motion, the whole neighbourhood would know that something unusual was the matter; and her master, especially, would hasten home to know the meaning of anything so strange.

Being all her life accustomed to the machinery of the mill, it was the work of a moment to set it all in motion; a brisk breeze which sprung up at once, set the sails flying. The arms of the huge engine whirled round with fearful rapidity; the great wheel slowly revolved on its axle; the smaller gear turned, and creaked, and groaned according as the machinery came into action; the mill was in full operation. It was at this moment that the ruffian intruder had succeeded in squeezing himself through the aperture in the wall, and getting himself safely lodged in the interior of the great drum wheel. His dismay, however, was indescribable when he began to be whirled about with its rotation, and found that all his efforts to put a stop to the powerful machinery which set it in motion, or to extricate himself from this perilous situation, were fruitless. In his terror he uttered shrieks

and horrible imprecations. Astonished at the noise, Hänchen ran to the spot, and saw him caught like a rat in his own trap, from which it was no part of her plan to liberate him. She knew he would be more frightened than hurt if he kept within his rotatory prison, without any rash attempt at escape; and that even if he became insensible he could not fall out of it.

In the meantime the wheel went round and round with its