again, though of an unpopular character, had rather availed to make them unknown than to make them hateful.  In one point this case differed memorably from the other—­that, instead of falling helpless, or flying victims (as the Weishaupts had done), these old men, strong, resolute, and not so much taken by surprise, left proofs that they had made a desperate defense.  The furniture was partly smashed to pieces, and the other details furnished evidence still more revolting of the acharnement with which the struggle had been maintained.  In fact, with them a surprise must have been impracticable, as they admitted nobody into their house on visiting terms.  It was thought singular that from each of these domestic tragedies a benefit of the same sort should result to young persons standing in nearly the same relation.  The girl who gave the alarm at the ball, with two little sisters, and a little orphan nephew, their cousin, divided the very large inheritance of the Weishaupts; and in this latter case the accumulated savings of two long lives all vested in the person of the amiable grandniece.

But now, as if in mockery of all our anxious consultations and elaborate devices, three fresh murders took place on the two consecutive nights succeeding these new arrangements.  And in one case, as nearly as time could be noted, the mounted patrol must have been within call at the very moment when the awful work was going on.  I shall not dwell much upon them; but a few circumstances are too interesting to be passed over.  The earliest case on the first of the two nights was that of a currier.  He was fifty years old; not rich, but well off.  His first wife was dead, and his daughters by her were married away from their father’s house.  He had married a second wife, but, having no children by her, and keeping no servants, it is probable that, but for an accident, no third person would have been in the house at the time when the murderers got admittance.  About seven o’clock, a wayfaring man, a journeyman currier, who, according to our German system, was now in his wanderjahre, entered the city from the forest.  At the gate he made some inquiries about the curriers and tanners of our town; and, agreeably to the information he received, made his way to this Mr. Heinberg.  Mr. Heinberg refused to admit him, until he mentioned his errand, and pushed below the door a letter of recommendation from a Silesian correspondent, describing him as an excellent and steady workman.  Wanting such a man, and satisfied by the answers returned that he was what he represented himself, Mr. Heinberg unbolted his door and admitted him.  Then, after slipping the bolt into its place, he bade him sit to the fire, brought him a glass of beer, conversed with him for ten minutes, and said:  “You had better stay here to-night; I’ll tell you why afterwards; but now I’ll step upstairs, and ask my wife whether she can make up a bed for you; and do you mind the door while I’m