These thoughts passed through my mind whilst admiring the grace and gentleness in every movement of Odile of Nideck, and that clearness and purity of outline which is only found marked in the features of the higher aristocracy, and I could recall nothing to my recollection equal to this ideal beauty.

“Go now, Gretchen,” said the young countess, “and make haste.”

The attendant went out, and I stood a few seconds under the influence of the charm of her manner.

Odile turned round, and addressing me, “You see, sir,” said she with a sad smile, “one may not indulge in grief without a pause; we must divide ourselves between our affection within and the world without.”

“True, madam,” I replied; “souls of the highest order are for the common property and advantage of the unhappy—­the lost wayfarer, the sick, the hungry poor—­each has his claim for a share, for God has made them like the stars of heaven to give light and pleasure to all.”

The deep-fringed eyelids veiled the blue eyes for a moment, while Sperver pressed my hand.

Presently she pursued—­

“Ah, if you could but restore my father’s health!”

“As I have had the pleasure to inform you, madam, the crisis is past; the return must be anticipated, if possible.”

“Do you hope that it may?”

“With God’s help, madam, it is not impossible; I will think carefully over it.”

Odile, much moved, came with me to the door.  Sperver and I crossed the ante-room, where a few servants were waiting for the orders of their mistress.  We had just entered the corridor when Gideon, who was walking first, turned quickly round, and, placing both his hands on my shoulders, said—­

“Come, Fritz; I am to be depended upon for keeping a secret; what is your opinion?”

“I think there is no cause of apprehension for to-night.”

“I know that—­so you told the countess—­but how about to-morrow?”

“To-morrow?”

“Yes; don’t turn round.  I suppose you cannot prevent the return of the complaint; do you think, Fritz, he will die of it?”

“It is possible, but hardly probable.”

“Well done!” cried the good man, springing from the ground with joy; “if you don’t think so, that means that you are sure.”

And taking my arm, he drew me into the gallery.  We had just reached it when the Baron of Zimmer-Bluderich and his groom appeared there also, marshalled by Sebalt with a lighted torch in his hand.  They were on their way to their chambers, and those two figures, with their cloaks flung over their shoulders, their loose Hungarian boots up to the knees, the body closely girt with long dark-green laced and frogged tunics, and the bear-skin cap closely and warmly covering the head, were very picturesque objects by the flickering light of the pine-torch.

“There,” whispered Sperver, “if I am not very much mistaken, those are our Fribourg friends; they have followed very close upon our heels.”