and his eyes fixed upon the ground. The moon shone brightly, and played upon the prince's polished armour, like summer lightning dancing on a lake. His helmet was thrown aside, and his countenance looked pale and sad, whilst his frequent sighs betrayed the uneasiness of his mind.
"Let us advance," said Clara, "and try to move him to compassion."
Elvira complied; and with light and timid steps, fearing almost to breathe, lest they should break the slumbers of their enemies, they approached the prince. All was still, save the hard breathing of the sleeping soldiers, and the measured champing of the horses; their stately figures strongly relieved by the dark grey sky beyond, and their long manes and tails sweeping the ground. The prince was now listlessly tracing figures in the grass with the scabbard of his sword: he started as they approached, and hastily demanded the cause of their intrusion.
"Mercy!" cried Elvira, sinking upon her knees before him; "mercy!" She could say no more, but gasping for breath, she stretched
