She started and looked up, but saw no one, and as she recovered herself, she sighed gently, and said:  “I was mistaken, it was only the wind.”

But again he whispered:  “Start not, Elise; do not utter a word or cry!”

“O God!” murmured she in a low tone, trembling in all her limbs.  An ardent embrace, a glowing kiss upon her brow, and a well-beloved voice whispered her name.

“Feodor!” uttered she faintly.  Overcome by the sudden violence of her feelings, her head dropped languidly on his breast.  Then, drawing herself up, she gazed at him, and her eager, loving look encountered his flashing eye.  She was, as it were, fascinated—­happy as in a dream, and yet conscious of the most delicious waking.

“Do you know me, Elise?  Do you recognize your Feodor in spite of his disguise?”

“Oh, speak again,” said she as he ceased.  “It is so long since I have heard your voice!”

“Ten weeks have passed,” said he, pressing her still closer to his heart, “without my being able to see you or convey to you any information.  I could endure it no longer.  I said to myself, ’God is the friend of lovers,’ and so I disguised myself as you see me, and ventured here.”

Elise started up and gazed at him anxiously.  Awaking from her ecstasy of delight, she just began to be conscious of the present.

“Good heavens!” she cried, “danger threatens you.”

“Death, if I am found here!” said he, solemnly—­“death, if it is known in the Russian camp why I came here!”

She uttered a cry, and clung anxiously to him.  “You should not have come here,” said she, trembling.  “My God, if my father should find you here!  It was cruel of you to come.”

“It would have been more cruel,” said he, smiling, “if being so near you, I had not come at all.  I have watched and yearned so long for this meeting; I have longed so to read in your eyes that you have not forgotten me!  Why do you cast them down, Elise?”

“Because, Feodor, you have already read too much in them, more than my father would ever forgive.”

“Your father was always kind and friendly toward me but at that time I was his prisoner, now he regards me only as the enemy of his country; and yet, Elise, my object here is any thing but that of an enemy.  It is not only the desire but also the anxiety of love which brings me here.  Listen to me—­my time is limited, and I am lost if I linger too long; but I had to see you to warn you, to avert the danger which threatens you, and all of you.  Listen, therefore.  Your father is the most powerful and influential man in Berlin.  His influence will go far with the council and the citizens.  Entreat him, Elise, to use all his influence to avert a terrible bloodshed from this city.”

Elise shook her head seriously and sadly.  Her sweet dream was dissipated; she was now no longer the dreaming, loving girl, but a conscious, reasoning, collected woman.