spy.  I had money, I had a name, I saw people throng around me, I learned to despise them, and therefore I could betray them.  But, in the midst of my brilliant life, I was unhappy, for the consciousness of my shame constantly haunted me, constantly cast its shadow upon me.  And one day, one day I saw and loved you!  From that day I was the victim of anguish and despair.  On my knees I besought my father to release me, to permit me to escape from the world.  He threatened to betray my past, my disgrace to you.  And I—­oh, God, I loved you—­I yielded, I remained.  My father vowed that, if I made him rich, he would set me free.  I discovered a conspiracy.  You were not among the accomplices—­I betrayed it.  I wanted to serve you by the treachery and I plunged you into ruin.”

Tears gushed from her eyes; the sobs so long repressed burst forth and stifled the words on her lips.  Kolbielsky no longer wept.  He had let his hands fall from his face, and was listening to her in deep thought, in breathless suspense.  Now, when she paused sobbing, he stretched out his hand as if he wished to raise Leonore, then he seemed to hesitate and withdrew it.

She did not see it; she did not venture to look at him; she gazed only into her tortured heart.  “I have betrayed you,” she continued, after an anxious, sorrowful pause.  “Oh, when I learned it, a sword pierced my soul and severed it from every joy of life.  I knew, in that hour, that I had fallen a prey to despair, but I wished at least to rescue you.  I have saved you, that is the sole merit of my life.  Napoleon could not resist my despair, my tears, my wrath—­he pitied me.  He gave your life to me.  All the blood-money which I had gained, all the splendor which surrounded me, I flung at my father’s feet.  I released myself from him forever, and, that my penance might be complete, I called all my servants and revealed my ignominy to them.  Then I left the palace where I had lived so long in gilded shame.  I took nothing with me.  I call nothing mine except these clothes and the name of Leonore.  Now you know all, and you will no longer be able to say that I can make a sacrifice for you.  Decide whether I must die, or whether you will pardon me.  Let me atone; let me live—­live as your slave, your thrall.  I desire nothing save to see you, serve you, live for you.  You need never speak to me, never deem me worthy of a word.  I will divine your orders without them.  I will sleep on your threshold like a faithful dog, that loves you though you thrust him from you—­who caresses the hand that strikes him.  I have deserved the blows; I will not murmur, only let me, let me live.”

She gazed imploringly at him, with a face beaming with enthusiasm and love.

And he?

A ray of enthusiasm illumined his face also.  He bent over the kneeling figure, laid his hands on her shoulders, and gazed into her face while something akin to a divine smile illumined his features.