I had just been taking my morning’s walk; it was the 7th of August. Oroboni’s dungeon door was standing open; Schiller was in it, and he was not sensible of my approach. My guards pressed forward in order to close my friend’s door, but I was too quick for them; I darted into the room, and the next moment found myself in the arms of Count Oroboni.

Schiller was in dismay, and cried out “Der Teufel! der Teufel!” most vigorously, at the same time raising his finger in a threatening attitude. It was in vain, for his eyes filled with tears, and he cried out, sobbing, “Oh, my God! take pity on these poor young men and me; on all the unhappy like them, my God, who knows what it is to be so very unhappy upon earth!” The guards, also, both wept; the sentinel on duty in the gallery ran to the spot, and even he caught the infection.

“Silvio! Silvio!” exclaimed the Count, “this is the most delightful day of my life!” I know not how I answered him; I was nearly distracted with joy and affection.

When Schiller at length beseeched us to separate, and it was necessary we should obey, Oroboni burst into a flood of tears. “Are we never to see each other again upon earth?” he exclaimed, in a wild, prophetic tone.

Alas! I never saw him more! A very few months after this parting, his dungeon was empty, and Oroboni lay at rest in the cemetery, on which I looked out from my window!

From the moment we had met, it seemed as if the tie which bound us were drawn closer round our hearts; and we were become still more necessary to each other.

He was a fine young man, with a noble countenance, but pale, and in poor health. Still, his eyes retained all their lustre. My affection for him was increased by a knowledge of his extreme weakness and sufferings. He felt for me in the same manner; we saw by how frail a tenure hung the lives of both, and that one must speedily be the survivor.

In a few days he became worse; I could only grieve and pray for him. After several feverish attacks, he recovered a little, and was even enabled to resume our conversations. What ineffable pleasure I experienced on hearing once more the sound of his voice! “You seem glad,” he said, “but do not deceive yourself; it is but for a short time. Have the courage to prepare for my departure, and your virtuous resolution will inspire me also with courage!”

At this period the walls of our prison were about to be whitewashed, and meantime we were to take up our abode in the caverns below. Unfortunately they placed us in dungeons apart from each other. But Schiller told me that the Count was well; though I had my doubts, and dreaded lest his health should receive a last blow from the effects of his subterranean abode. If I had only had the good fortune, thought I, to be near my friend Maroncelli; I could distinguish his voice, however, as he sung. We spoke to each other, spite of the shouts and conversation of the guards. At the same period, the head physician of BrÜnn paid us a visit. He was sent in consequence of the report made by the superintendent in regard to the extreme ill health of the prisoners from the scanty allowance of food. A scorbutic epidemic was already fast emptying the dungeons. Not aware of the cause of his visit, I imagined that he came to see Oroboni, and my anxiety was inexpressible; I was bowed down with sorrow, and I too wished to die. The thought of suicide again tormented me. I struggled, indeed; but I felt like the weary traveller, who though compelled to press forward, feels an almost irresistible desire to throw himself upon the ground and rest.

I had been just informed that in one of those subterranean dens an aged Bohemian gentleman had recently destroyed himself by beating his head against the walls. I wish I had not heard it; for I could not, do what I would, banish the temptation to imitate him. It was a sort of delirium, and would most probably have ended in suicide, had not a violent gush of blood from my chest, which made me think that death was close at hand, relieved me. I was thankful to God that it should happen in this manner, and spare me an act of desperation, which my reason so strongly condemned. But Providence ordered it otherwise; I found myself considerably better after the discharge of blood from my lungs. Meantime, I was removed to the prison above, and the additional light, with the vicinity of my friend Oroboni, reconciled me to life.