“What if the wall should give way, and bad people should intrude into our garden!  Ah, Marianne says that misfortune lurks everywhere in the world, lying in ambush for those who think themselves safe, destroying their happiness, and making them wholly miserable; and people only laugh and rejoice that another man’s hopes have been wrecked!  Ah, and I have felt so secure in my happiness!  If misfortune should now actually come—­if these walls should prove not high enough to keep it off!  Ah, Paulo, protect me from lurking misfortune!”

They had now arrived at the door of the villa.  Paulo pressed the trembling young maiden with paternal tenderness to his breast, and, lightly touching her forehead with his lips, he said:  “Good-night, my love!  Sleep gently, and be not anxious!  So long as I live, misfortune shall never approach you!  Rest assured of that!”

Thus speaking, he led her into the house, where Marianne was waiting to accompany her to her chamber.

Natalie silently followed her, but before entering her room she once more turned, and, pressing her fingers to her lips, wafted kisses in the air toward her friend.

“Good-night, Paulo!”

“Good-night, Natalie!”

The door closed behind her, and the smile instantly vanished from Paulo’s lips.  With impetuous haste, beckoning Cecil to follow him, he strode through the corridor leading to his own apartments.

When he had arrived there, and Cecil had closed the door behind him, the count with a deep sigh threw himself upon a chair, whilst Cecil silently busied himself in lighting the wax-candles and placing them upon the table beside his master.

“Will not your grace now read the other letter?” he timidly asked, as Count Paulo still remained buried in his silent reflections.

“Oh, this unblessed letter!” exclaimed the count, with a shudder.  “I tell you, Cecil, I feel that it contains misfortune.  It has lain with a heavy weight like a nightmare upon my breast and I yet felt not the strength in me to draw it forth and read it in Natalie’s presence!”

“That was well!” said Cecil, “and it was for that reason that I told you in advance that the letter was from Russia, that you might be on your guard.  But now, Sir Count, we are alone, and now you can read it!”

“Yes, away with this childish fear!” cried the count, with resolution.  “I will be a man, Cecil, and whatever this letter may contain, I will bear it like a man!”

Drawing forth the letter, he broke the seal with a trembling hand, and threw the cover across the room.  Then unfolding the letter, he read.  Behind him stood Cecil, involuntarily trembling with anxious expectation.

The letter fell from the count’s hands, and a deadly paleness spread over his face, which bore the expression of utter despair.

“Oh, my prophetic soul!” he sighed.

“Your presentiment is then fulfilled!” anxiously asked Cecil.