own misery, for I am alone in the world. With you it is otherwise, for you have your wife and children to think of. You, moreover, were born to greatness, and have lost your birthright. But," he added, as a thought struck him, "it must be regained."
"Alas! there is no hope for either of us," murmured the knight, burying his face in his hands.
He was aroused by the sound of a heavy blow. Not one which had fallen upon a hard and resisting substance; it was a peculiar, smothered crash that, although he knew not then why, thrilled the very core of his heart.
"What have you done, Budiak?"
"What have you done, Budiak?" he inquired, hurriedly.
"My dear lord," gasped out his follower, "there was but the accursed Tartar chain between you and freedom, and we could not break it. It detains you here no longer. Go back to your wife, and be happy. Tell her—"
He paused as if in agony, and Emmerick bent over him to ascertain the cause. With a start of horror, he exclaimed: "Tell me that I dream—I dare not—will not—believe that you have done this!"
"Calm yourself, my lord, and think of flight," replied the heroic vassal. As he spoke he raised himself by a violent effort, and wrenched away from the fetter with which it had been encircled the leg which he had sacrificed to his beloved master. "Let me fling off this useless limb, which has never served me so well as it has done this day. And now, be wary, my lord, and you are free; for our captors have trusted largely to this chain, and with silence and speed your success is almost certain."
"Never!" returned Emmerick, throwing his arms around the wounded man, "never will I leave you here alone, maimed for my sake; to die, perhaps, without one friendly voice to murmur peace in your last moments!"
"Must I then know," remonstrated Budiak, with great earnestness, "that I have done this thing in vain? Will you not accept my poor service? Will you double my sufferings by your participation in them? If we are found here at dawn, we shall both be the victims of an act for which I alone am responsible. You cannot surely be so cruel? Come, my dear, dear lord, rouse yourself, I implore you, and depart. Then I shall be able to forget my physical sufferings in my prayers for your safety and success, as I follow you in thought upon your homeward path."
"I will not leave you thus," persisted the knight.
"Nay, then, have the truth," and once more the gallant castellan raised himself upon his arm, and struggled against the faintness that was rapidly overcoming him. "Even now I feel that I am dying. My heart flutters for a moment like a newly caged bird, and then stands still; and the life-blood is being drained from my veins. Farewell, my beloved master, farewell!"
Budiak's fast-failing strength scarcely sufficed for these last words. Utterly exhausted by the effort he had made, he fell back upon the earth cold, motionless, un-
