"I have deserved this," she murmured brokenly.
Vavel passed his hand over his face, and sighed. "It was all a dream!
It was madness to expect impossibilities," he murmured. "I am familiar
enough with the stars to have known that there are constellations which
never descend to the horizon. The 'Crown' is one of them! Of what use
are these rags now?" he exclaimed, with sudden vehemence, pointing to
the casket, which Katharina still held on her arm. "Whom can they serve?
They have brought only sorrow to him who has guarded them, and to her to
whom they belong. I cannot open the casket; but I need not do that to
destroy the contents. Pray throw it into the fire yonder."
Katharina obeyed without an instant's hesitation. After a while the
metal casket began to glow in the midst of the flames. It became red,
then a pale rose-color, while a thin cord of vapor trailed through the
keyhole.
"The little garments are burning," whispered Vavel, "and the documents,
and the portraits, and the heap of worthless money. From to-day," he
added, in a louder tone, "I begin to learn what it is to be a poor man."
"I have already learned what poverty means," said Katharina.
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