but native rectitude banished a suspicion which had no sufficient ground, as equally unworthy of them both.  The effects of a ceaseless mental struggle, and of the fruitlessness of her efforts to overcome her tenderness in behalf of Sigismund, have been described in the fading of her bloom, in the painful solicitude of a countenance naturally so sweet, and in the settled melancholy of her playful and mellow eye.  These were the real causes of the journey undertaken by her father, and, in truth, of most of the other events which we are about to describe.

The prospect of the future had undergone a sudden change.  The color, though more the effect of excitement than of returning health—­for he tide of life, when rudely checked, does not resume its currents at the first breath of happiness—­again brightened her cheek and imparted brilliancy to her looks, and smiles stole easily to those lips which had long been growing pallid with anxiety.  She leaned forward from the balcony, and never before had the air of her native mountains seemed so balmy and healing.  At that moment the subject of her thoughts appeared on the verdant declivity, among the luxuriant nut-trees that shade the natural lawn of Blonay.  He saluted her respectfully, and pointed to the glorious panorama of the Leman.  The heart of Adelheid beat violently; she struggled for an instant with her fears and her pride, and then, for the first time in her life, she made a signal that she wished him to join her.

Notwithstanding the important service that the young soldier had rendered to the daughter of the Baron de Willading, and the long intimacy which had been its fruit, so great had been the reserve she had hitherto maintained, by placing a constant restraint on her inclinations, though the simple usages of Switzerland permitted greater familiarity of intercourse than was elsewhere accorded to maidens of rank, that Sigismund at first stood rooted to the ground, for he could not imagine the waving of the hand was meant for him.  Adelheid saw his embarrassment, and the signal was repeated.  The young man sprang up the acclivity with the rapidity of the wind, and disappeared behind the walls of the castle.

The barrier of reserve, so long and so success fully observed by Adelheid, was now passed, and she felt as if a few short minutes must decide her fate.  The necessity of making a wide circuit in order to enter the court still afforded a little time for reflection, however, and this she endeavored to improve by collecting her thoughts and recovering her self-possession.

When Sigismund entered the knights’ hall, he found the maiden still seated near the open window of the balcony, pale and serious, but perfectly calm, and with such an expression of radiant happiness in her countenance as he had not seen reigning in those sweet lineaments for many painful, months.  The first feeling was that of pleasure at perceiving how well she bore the alarms and dangers of the past night.  This pleasure he expressed, with the frankness admitted, by the habits of the Germans.