Eva had anticipated a first meeting with Leo with absolute dread, and yet one brief hour and two or three words had sufficed to dispel the dark cloud between them. They were reconciled.

A delicious sense of repose and peace filled Eva's soul as she silently accompanied Aline and Delmar back to the inn. Paul guessed that she was in no mood for conversation, and so left her free to pursue her thoughts.

And when they were again all seated upon the balcony, and the three gentlemen from Tausens made their appearance as usual, Paul contrived that no one should notice that Eva scarcely took any part in the conversation. Aline alone saw how quiet the girl was, and divined the cause of her silence.

Only when the two young girls had retired to their room did Aline put her arms about her friend, and, looking into her dark eyes, ask, "Are you reconciled?"

"Yes, Aline. Oh, I am so happy!" was the reply. And then Eva poured into her friend's ready and sympathizing ear an account of all that filled her heart, all she had heard from Delmar, telling last of the few words she had exchanged with Leo, and of the kiss he had imprinted upon her hand at parting.

Aline listened with the deepest interest, never interrupting her, but when she had finished she asked, in a low tone, "You love him, Eva?"

"Yes, with my whole soul! Now I dare tell you. Aline, of the warm interest I felt in him long before I ever saw him. You and Lieutenant Herwarth had told me so much of him, of his heroism in the field, of his humanity to the conquered; he was my ideal of a hero, and when I first saw him I was confused and strangely moved, for all my expectations were so much more than answered. I was so happy when Uncle Balthasar presented him."

"And yet you received him so coldly that he could not but feel hurt!"

"It was my misfortune, Aline! I have shed many a secret tear at the thought of it. Delmar is right: wealth has poisoned my soul and filled me with unjust suspicion. I take shame to myself for ever thinking that my money could have any attraction for him. And so I threw away the happiness of my life. He loves me, but he will not approach me,--we are separated forever! I am betrothed to Bertram!"

Eva wept bitterly, while Aline clasped her closer in her arms. "You must not be unhappy, Eva," she said earnestly; "you must not sacrifice your life to an illusion! This miserable engagement should never have been entered into. There is still time to break it; you must not give your hand to a man whom you detest and despise while your heart belongs to another. Courage, Eva! Your fate is in your own hands. Break the disgraceful chains that fetter you!"

"I cannot, Aline! Bertram has my promise; he knows that I do not love him, but he will hold me to my promise. Would not Leo von Heydeck despise me if he thought me capable of wantonly breaking a promise for which Bertram has sacrificed his entire future? And if I did so, I never could be really happy. Leo is himself betrothed."

"Herr von Heydeck betrothed?" Aline asked in surprise.

"Yes; he has complied with his father's desire that he should be betrothed to his cousin Hilda. Herr Delmar told me this."

"My poor Eva----"

"No, not so, Aline! I was indeed wretched when I thought that Leo von Heydeck hated and despised me. Now that I know that he cherishes for me a pure, disinterested affection,--that he loves me, although he knows that we are separated forever,--I am no longer unhappy. The thought that I am sacrificing myself for his sake consoles me. I gave my promise to Bertram that Leo von Heydeck might escape a great peril,--I cannot be unhappy."

"You deceive yourself, Eva; you must not sacrifice yourself to a phantom of the imagination. Bertram loves not yourself, but your money; with money you can atone to him for his lost future."

"Say no more, Aline, I cannot bear it; you must not think so meanly of the man who, although I cannot esteem or love him, has never given me reason to believe him so sordid a wretch as you describe. I will keep the promise I have given. Do not try to shake my resolution, it is firmly fixed."

"I have no right to urge you further," Aline said sadly, "but answer me one question, what are you going to do now? Will you return FrÄulein Hilda's visit? Will you thus provoke frequent opportunities of meeting Herr von Heydeck? I should think such interviews would be alike painful for yourself and for him."

"You are wrong; we are reconciled. If our future destinies separate us forever, we may at least avail ourselves of these few chance weeks of friendly intercourse. I am resolved to enjoy this time, troubled by no sad thought of the future. When I leave Tausens I will go to meet my fate serenely, for I know that Leo von Heydeck will have none but kindly thoughts of me."

"A most extraordinary purpose!" Aline rejoined, as she looked at her friend with a dubious smile; "but so be it,--it may result in good. Then we are to enjoy the society of our friends at Castle Reifenstein as if there had never been any unpleasantness between Herr von Heydeck and yourself I confess I am curious to know what Herr von Bertram will say to this."

"Do not mention his name to me now!" Eva exclaimed impatiently, instantly however kissing her friend, and saying, in a gentle tone of entreaty, "My dear true Aline, do not be angry with me for my cross words,--you know how tenderly I love you, and how I depend upon your counsel and sympathy. Let me enjoy this short season of happiness,--even Herr von Bertram shall not alloy it for me,--he has no right to do so; I am still my own mistress. And now goodnight, my dearest friend."

Thus with a tender caress they separated for the night, but it was long before either fell asleep. Eva resigned herself to waking dreams, and Aline's thoughts were occupied with her friend's fate. She had long since surmised that Eva was far from indifferent to Leo von Heydeck; her surmise had just been made a conviction, and she now knew that Leo reciprocated her friend's sentiments. Aline had the most sincere affection for Eva; she took the deepest interest in her future; she knew how firm and loyal she would be to a given promise, and that no entreaties would avail to make her false to her idea of right. She had often declared that nothing should cause her to recall the words spoken to Bertram, and this declaration she had just repeated, although she now knew that Leo loved her.

Nevertheless she must not be allowed to carry her resolve into execution. Bertram was utterly unworthy of such a sacrifice. Aline had become entirely convinced during the last week of his mercenary disposition; she saw plainly that it was Eva's wealth and not herself that he coveted. The constant coldness and reserve that characterized her manner towards him had created in him almost a feeling of hatred for his betrothed, the existence of which, in spite of the servile smoothness of his manner, could not always be concealed from Aline's eyes, made keen as they were by affection for her friend.

In FrÄulein von Schlicht's opinion there was only one person who could be of use here, and that was Paul Delmar. Aline would speak with him, or--no, it would be far better to confide the whole matter to Herr von Herwarth, who was intimate with both Herr von Heydeck and Herr Delmar. He would know what to advise. This thought soothed her, and she fell asleep with a happy smile upon her lips.

The next morning the whole party again met upon the balcony. Bertram alone was missing; he had not yet returned from his expedition. Delmar was in his gayest humour,--only FrÄulein von Schlicht noticed that he was rather pale, and that his eyes lacked something of their wonted brilliancy; the others were content to yield to his influence and laugh at his jests.

Leo and Hilda came down from the castle in the early morning to arrange a walk to some waterfalls, and all went as smoothly as possible. Eva received Leo with a smile that transported him to the seventh heaven, and Hilda greeted Delmar as amiably. For a moment Paul forgot his rÔle; he grew very grave as he took FrÄulein von Heydeck's proffered hand, but the next instant he was gayer than ever, rallying the cousins upon their condescension in descending from their rocky throne to mix with the humble inhabitants of the valley. Hilda was ready in her replies, and merriment was the order of the day.

When the party were about to start upon their expedition. Aline declared that she was still fatigued with her walk of the previous day, and preferred to remain quietly upon the balcony. She therefore begged Delmar to join his friend Herr von Heydeck, and leave to her the charge of the lieutenant. She made the request in so gentle a tone of entreaty, and Kuno seconded her so eloquently, that Delmar could not but comply. Thus Aline remained alone with Kuno on the balcony, for Uncle Balthasar made one of the walking-party, and Aunt Minni, as soon as breakfast was over, retired to her room and her beloved sofa.

Aline's wish was fulfilled; she now had an opportunity of speaking to Herwarth of Eva, and her relations with Bertram. She found it difficult at first to allude to so delicate a topic, but FrÄulein von Schlicht was too natural and frank a person to yield for long to girlish shamefacedness; she was convinced of Herwarth's truth and honour and of his friendship for Leo, and so she gave him her entire confidence with regard to Eva and Bertram. She told him that her friend was bound only by her promise,--that she had not the smallest esteem or affection for her betrothed,--and that if her engagement were not broken the happiness of her future life would be entirely destroyed. Of course Aline never alluded to Eva's sentiments for Leo von Heydeck, she had no right to do so; it was of her relations with Bertram alone that she spoke; and she concluded with an earnest request that Herwarth would induce Delmar to exert the influence which Herwarth had told her he possessed over Bertram to force the lieutenant to free Eva from her promise.

As Aline spoke, Kuno watched her with enthusiastic admiration; she had never seemed to him so bewitchingly lovely. Her cheeks flushed, her blue eyes sparkled in the glow of her devotion to her friend as she eagerly explained and entreated. He was only too happy to be the recipient of her confidence, and he promised with ardour to do everything that she desired. It was only natural that when she offered him her hand in token that the compact between them was sealed he should refuse immediately to resign it, but should retain the 'white wonder' in his clasp and imprint upon it a fervent kiss.

It is not quite safe for a young girl to pour confidences into a man's ears, especially when their subject is love, and Aline had proof of this. Kuno's ardour embarrassed her; she tried to withdraw her hand, but he clasped it only the more firmly, and even drew its owner nearer to him, as he reiterated his promise to do all, everything, always that she could desire if only she would not repulse him, but would listen while he told her that life was worthless to him unless he might keep as his very own the little hand he then held. How could Aline withdraw it?

When at noon the pedestrians returned from their waterfalls, they found Aline and Kuno still together, and the lieutenant rapturously presented to them FrÄulein von Schlicht as his betrothed.

Here was a delightful surprise, and yet afterwards every one, with the exception of Uncle Balthasar who was unaffected amazement itself, professed to have foreseen it all along.

Delmar regarded Kuno with eyes that sparkled strangely. "Number One!" he said. "You're a lucky dog, my noble knight! Have you not made fools of us after all? Confess: was that sprained ankle accident, or did you so contrive it that pity might bring her nearest of kin to minister to you? And if it were so, my congratulations are none the less sincere, I swear to you, Herwarth, that for only one hour of such happiness as yours I would give not only a miserable foot but my head into the bargain!"

Involuntarily his glance sought Hilda. Their eyes met, but were instantaneously averted, and Delmar turned hastily away to conquer the emotion that threatened to overcome him. In Hilda's look of tender sympathy he read, "You too might be as happy!" Poor child! She did not dream of the woe that awaited him, making it impossible that he should be happy. The thought shot a pang through Paul's heart; there was no bliss in the conviction of Hilda's tender sympathy for him, it only made his fate harder to bear. With all his self-control, the struggle was wellnigh too much for him. He hurried away,--anywhere to avoid again meeting Hilda's eyes.

Eva, too, was much moved as she embraced her friend, and wished for her every blessing that life could bring. "You happy girl!" she whispered.

"You will soon be just as happy," Aline replied, in as soft a whisper, glancing at Leo, who was warmly congratulating the lieutenant. But Eva brushed away a tear and made no answer.

Never had Hansel, our worthy postmaster, enjoyed such delightful days as those which ensued upon the betrothal of FrÄulein Aline with the Herr Lieutenant von Herwarth. He went about the house with a constant grin upon his broad face which beamed with special satisfaction whenever he saw Herr Delmar, for Hansel was proud to acknowledge that it was owing to Herr Delmar that his wildest dreams were now transcended by reality.

The honest fellow listened daily to exclamations of admiration from Herr Schommer and the ladies over the wonderful degree of comfort to be found in this excellent inn, although Tausens was so retired a spot. Every day he listened to thanks and praise of his wonderful energy and skill in ministering to the wishes of his guests. Sometimes when Uncle Balthasar was exhausting himself in surprise, and the young ladies uttered cordial thanks in addition, Hansel, to be sure, would become confused, and quite unable to suppress a maidenly blush, but he liked, notwithstanding, to be so lauded.

Indeed, his guests had good cause to be amazed and grateful, for each day brought some fresh surprise, prepared as Herr Delmar assured them by the worthy Hansel, for whom Herr Delmar had a positively enthusiastic regard.

A large box full of books, the best works upon the Tyrol, and the latest novels, arrived from Innspruck. Hansel had ordered them from a bookseller there, sparing no expense to provide amusement for his guests if the weather should chance to be rainy.

Several furniture-wagons arrived from Bozen laden with comfortable lounges and arm-chairs. Hansel had sent for these by express, because he heard that Aunt Minni was fond of such luxuries. He showed a most refined aptitude in supplying every desire of his wealthy guests. Money was no object to him; no expense was spared in any direction.

And the table,--Herr Delmar had indeed maligned Tausens when he had declared that there was nothing to be had there but veal. Hansel sent to Bozen, Triest, Riva, and even to Venice, to procure delicacies wherewith to tickle the palates of his guests. He sent his own messengers, empowering them to make the required purchases. Uncle Balthasar declared that nowhere in the world could a better table be found than at the Post at Tausens. He really could not understand it, for the charges were extremely moderate, not a kreutzer higher than at other Tyrolean inns where not a delicacy was to be had.

And not only in luxurious lodgings and delicate fare did he testify his desire to please. Every wish expressed in other respects by the strangers, and especially by the ladies, was fulfilled almost before it was uttered.

FrÄulein Eva, upon a short walk where the postmaster was guide, expressed her special admiration for a certain point of view and a desire to visit it frequently. The next morning a couple of convenient wooden benches and a table were erected upon the spot, and the path leading to it was found to have been cleared of stones during the night. Labourers were also employed to open and clear various mountain-paths in the neighbourhood of the inn, making many charming places accessible for the ladies. But Hansel's tenderest care for his guests was shown in an arrangement which excited the unbounded surprise of the entire village. FrÄulein Aline von Schlicht was not very strong, walking fatigued her, and she therefore often remained at home with the invalid lieutenant when some pleasant expedition on foot was to be made. One evening FrÄulein Eva expressed her regret that in consequence of the entire want of mules and riding-horses in Tausens her friend was obliged to lose so much of the beauty around them, and that Herr von Herwarth also would know nothing of the finest points of view, since he would have to spare his sprained ankle for some time to come. An hour afterwards the village schoolmaster departed for the railway-station in Hansel's own conveyance, the driver being ordered to drive furiously so as not to miss the train, and two days later an Italian appeared from Bozen bringing four strong mules, which he quartered in the stable at the Post, and placed at the disposition of the guests there, two of the animals being provided with side-saddles.

Hansel, admirably careful host that he was, must have overheard Eva's remark, and instantly ordered the mules and their owner from Bozen.

Their host's care and attention did not alone conduce to make the stay of the Schommer party in Tausens agreeable. After Herwarth's betrothal to Aline there was constant and delightful intercourse between the inhabitants of the castle and the guests at the inn.

Every day Leo and Hilda came from the castle to carry off Eva and Delmar to some point of beauty in the neighbourhood, while Aline remained upon the balcony with her betrothed, and kindly Uncle Balthasar felt it his duty to bestow his society upon 'our dear Guido,' who never took part in the daily walks. Besides the mountain-paths were too steep for the old man, and thus Hilda, Eva, Delmar, and Leo were left to themselves to enjoy the exquisite weather and to explore, with Hilda for a guide, all the beauty and grandeur that abound in the neighbourhood of Tausens.

The steep mountain-paths were for the most part so narrow as to allow only two persons to walk abreast; and upon first leaving the village Hilda and Eva usually went before, followed by the two young men; but this arrangement did not last long,--it was but natural that in any climbing Eva should lag behind her fleet-footed guide and that Leo should hasten to assist her unaccustomed steps, while Delmar walked with Hilda, who never needed assistance, and that in this order they should continue to pursue their way even when there were no difficulties to surmount.

And when, after his two weeks of rest, Herwarth was able to mount a mule and take part in these expeditions this arrangement was in no wise altered, for naturally he rode beside his betrothed, who no longer desired to be left at home upon the balcony. Another mule was sometimes provided for Eva in very steep ascents; but Hilda, the mountain maid, could never be induced to admit that walking upon her beloved mountains could fatigue her, and her boldness and agility were quite equal to those displayed by Leo and Delmar.

These expeditions had a rare charm for all who took part in them. Conventional constraint vanished in the familiar intercourse thus induced. A greater degree of intimacy was established among the party than would ever have been possible in the life of a city.

When Leo led Eva along the narrow pathway upon the brink of some steep abyss and she grew giddy with a glance into its misty depths, she would cling to her guide in full confidence in his strength and sureness of foot; he would bear her in his arms across a foaming mountain-brook, lift her on and off of her mule, all small services which she could not but permit him to render her, and which filled him with a sense of ecstasy.

When at some distance from the others he walked with her beneath the fragrant firs, as she leaned upon his arm he would gaze into the large dark eyes lifted to his own and forget past and future in a dream of the present, a dream which Eva shared, and it banished all memory of the hateful tie that bound her to Bertram. She would listen with a happy smile to Leo's words, and now and then her cheek would flush, although he never breathed a word of the love which she knew possessed his soul. Yes, she knew;--there was no need of a confession from his lips.

Delmar did not, as did Leo and Eva, yield to the enjoyment of the moment without resistance; but even he could not withstand the charm of these daily walks by Hilda's side, of constant intercourse with one so frank and fair.

In her gay unconsciousness Hilda never concealed from Paul how happy she was; she talked so merrily and freely that he could not but adopt the same familiar tone. He tried at first to treat her with reserve; she must not know how wildly his heart beat in her presence; he must be to her but an every-day acquaintance, no more to her than any other stranger.

He would have avoided being alone with her, but that was impossible. If Leo and Eva were to come together they must be left to themselves; their love must so increase in familiar intercourse as to conquer any prejudice that might separate them even after Eva's engagement to Bertram should be annulled. If he would promote his friend's happiness, Paul must be Hilda's sole companion upon these mountain-walks.

Thus he was forced to take with her the lead in all their expeditions, although he offered her none of those small services which Leo rendered to Eva with such delight. Hilda would have laughingly rejected them, for she needed no assistance even on the steepest paths and dizziest heights. Her head never for an instant swam even when she stood upon the extreme brink of some frightful abyss and gazed down into its depths; she sprang with graceful agility from stone to stone in crossing the mountain-torrents, and was always at hand to give aid, although she never needed it.

Once only Paul was forced to proffer Hilda the aid of his strong arm; they had reached the banks of a rushing brook, across which there had formerly been a bridge, which a late freshet had carried away. There were no large stones in the midst of the water by which Hilda could cross. Had she been alone she would, it is to be feared, have dashed across without minding a thorough drenching, but that would never do with any one by to see her, and she looked eagerly for some way to gain the opposite bank.

"You will have to let me carry you across, FrÄulein von Heydeck," Paul said, after searching in vain for a place where Hilda could cross without his aid.

"Shall I not be too heavy for you, Herr Delmar?" the girl asked, with an arch smile.

For answer he lifted her lightly in his arms and strode through the foaming water. How easily he seemed to do it, and yet the light burden was almost too much for him. His heart throbbed so that he thought she must hear it; his cheeks flushed crimson, and he almost staggered beneath her light weight, when Hilda shrank from the dashing water and leaned more closely upon his shoulder.

And yet he could have wished to bear her thus in his arms for hours. With a sigh he released her upon the opposite bank of the stream, and she thanked him, and laughing at his thoroughly drenched condition, passed on through the forest, while he stilled the wild throbbing of his heart and the rushing of the blood in his veins as best he might.

How variable and whimsical he must seem to Hilda! he thought. Now he would adopt a cold tone towards her, and now indulge in outbursts of the wildest merriment, striving with a jest to deaden the agitation of his soul. He saw that these jests were not pleasing to Hilda; she grew very grave when he was recklessly gay; he would not distress her, and so restrained himself and compelled himself to talk earnestly and quietly. For this she rewarded him with eager interest and ready sympathy.

He would have held himself aloof from her, but that was impossible; she regarded him not as a stranger, but as her cousin Leo's dearest friend, of whom he had talked so much and so often that she felt thoroughly at home and at her ease in his society, and she treated him with a frank familiarity that was irresistibly attractive to him, and the influence of which he could not resist.

Often, as they walked fearlessly along the brink of frightful abysses, he remembered his despairing desire to end a life that could offer him no future save pain and anguish. As he talked gayly with Hilda such thoughts would assail him; he would pause for an instant and gaze with longing into the blue depths. Why should he live on? Eva and Leo were reconciled. All that remained for him to do was to break the tie between Eva and Bertram and his work in the world would be at an end. But as he wandered on at Hilda's side the spell that her presence threw around him would inevitably exert its power; gloomy thoughts would be banished, and the love of life and all that makes life fair would stir strongly again within him, although he deceived himself into the belief that his only desire was to live until Leo's happiness should be secured and Dr. Putzer be sufficiently recovered to tell him all that he feared to learn.

Convinced that after at most a few more days he should be separated from Hilda forever, he at last resigned himself utterly to the enchantment of her presence, unaware of how her constant society fed and increased the love which he felt for her. Consequently he grew calmer; the feverish excitement which drove him to indulge in extravagant merriment subsided: he took cheerful part in the general conversation; and when they rested after some long ascent at the wished-for point of view, he could thoroughly enjoy both the enthusiasm of the others and the glories of the landscape. Still, when at the end of the day the entire party would sit discussing their expedition, upon the balcony, Paul was apt to fall into a gloomy revery from which it needed a word from Hilda to rouse him. Thus the days and weeks passed at Tausens with very little change, and no one divined what was going on in the mind of him to whom all turned for enjoyment and sympathy.

One person however suspected that Delmar was by no means so careless as he seemed. Guido von Bertram watched him keenly whenever he had an opportunity, with many a misgiving that a storm was gathering above his head. When it would break he could not tell, and he racked his brains for some means whereby he might escape it.

The ex-lieutenant played but a sorry part in Tausens. When he returned from his mountain-expedition, on the day of Herwarth's betrothal, he found the entire party assembled upon the balcony, for Leo and Hilda had despatched a messenger to the castle to inform Herr von Heydeck that they should not return until late in the evening.

Uncle Balthasar had brewed a bowl of punch in honour of the occasion, and the three gentlemen from Tausens had taken part in the festivity. Uncle Balthasar was in an ecstasy; he repeatedly proposed the health of the betrothed couple, and made them a short congratulatory speech in his comical patois. His only disappointment was that 'dear Guido' was not yet returned; and when 'dear Guido' did actually make his appearance upon the balcony, the old man's happiness reached its climax; he immediately filled him a glass of punch and required that he should drink the health of the betrothed couple.

The surprising intelligence deprived Bertram for an instant of his self-possession, and his face showed the dismay that he felt. In fact, there was reason for it. Herwarth, Leo's most intimate friend, betrothed to Aline, Eva's friend and confidante! What results might not ensue! Probably a reconciliation between Eva and Leo. True enough, there was his dreaded enemy beside his betrothed, and the two were conversing as easily and pleasantly as if there had never been the slightest misunderstanding between them. At the moment Leo was standing with his hand on the back of Eva's chair; he bent above her and said something in a low tone of voice. And she? She looked up at him with a gentle smile, so lost in what he was saying that she never heard Uncle Balthasar's joyous exclamation, "Here is our dear Guido!" and did not know that her betrothed was looking on while she conversed familiarly with his mortal enemy.

They were reconciled! The phantom which had scared Bertram since the day of his betrothal had become a terrible reality. Eva loved Leo von Heydeck,--her sweet smile, the tender light in her eyes as she looked at him, revealed the fact even more plainly to Bertram's jealousy. He grew giddy; he saw his whole future in peril, his fairest hopes destroyed, and himself upon the brink of an abyss. But he must suppress all manifestation of the dismay that he felt. Mechanically and with a hand that trembled he took the glass which Uncle Balthasar offered him.

Fortunately, the individual members of the little party were too much occupied with themselves to pay much attention to Bertram. Leo and Kuno had indeed been aware of his entrance upon the balcony, but they did not deign him a glance. Delmar however bestowed some notice upon him, saying with the sarcastic smile which Bertram so detested, "When you have congratulated our friends as in duty bound, Herr von Bertram, let me pray you to bestow upon me the short time which the fatigue of your expedition allows you to accord us this evening. Here is a place by my side."

This was a command which Bertram did not dare to transgress. With rage in his heart he obeyed.

He offered his congratulations to the betrothed couple. Aline received them with the merest bow required by courtesy, and Kuno noticed them not at all,--for him Herr von Bertram did not exist.

Guido controlled his anger; he did not dare to resent the contempt shown for him by Herwarth. He had to pay his respects to his betrothed after two days of absence,--a duty he would gladly have omitted. He offered her his hand; she placed her own within it, but withdrew it instantly. She asked one or two cold questions as to whether he had enjoyed his excursion, and then turned and continued her conversation with Leo, who did not accord him even a glance.

"Come, Herr von Bertram, I am waiting for you impatiently," said Paul.

Bertram obeyed, and took the vacant place beside his tormentor.

"Tell me of your excursion,--you know the interest I take in all that concerns you. Egotist as I am however, I am not so selfish as to detain you long when you must be so very much fatigued with your walk. Give me only five minutes, and then when you have taken a couple of glasses of Herr Schommer's excellent punch, I will not keep you an instant longer."

This was another disguised command. This man was a tyrant, who refused to allow his slave the slightest freedom of action, but Bertram obeyed. With morbid loquacity he began to tell of his excursion, of the glorious views from the Spitzhorn, and of the difficulties of the ascent. He broke off however in the midst of his discourse, having taken two glasses of punch, when Delmar took his watch from his pocket with a meaning glance; he declared he was really too tired to continue his description, and neither the request of the judge, who wanted to hear more of the ascent of the Spitzhorn, nor Uncle Balthasar's entreaty could detain him. He arose and took leave. Eva again gave him her hand, scarcely interrupting as she did so her conversation with Heydeck,--which, indeed, she had continued steadily, never paying any attention to Bertram's loud description of his mountain-ascent or of the natural beauty of the Rothwald valley.

Thus passed Bertram's first meeting with Leo since the scene beneath BÜchner's awning; he had suffered a fresh defeat and had left his enemy at Eva's side; the worst he had to fear had nearly occurred.

Bertram had in fact had a most fatiguing walk; he was very weary, but nevertheless he tossed restlessly upon his bed. There was no sleep there for him,--he started up whenever the sound of gay laughter from the balcony reached his ears, only to bury his head again among the pillows to shut out if possible the hateful noise.

And even late in the night when all was still, when nothing stirred in the rooms on either side of him, and he knew that Eva, as well as Aline and Uncle Balthasar, had retired for the night, sleep fled his eyelids.

He thought with horror of his future. What would become of him if that demon Paul Delmar should reveal to Eva her entire right to recall her promise? He could not return to K----, where his debts were immense and his honour and credit both gone. How should he even live from day to day?

His property, which had been considerable, he had squandered in the wildest dissipations; his creditors had abstained from resorting to extreme measures only in the hope which he had held out to them of his marriage with the wealthy heiress. If his engagement with Eva were broken, nothing could keep him from their clutches should he attempt to return to K----. The moisture stood in cold drops upon his forehead as a vision of his probable future rose distinctly before him. A jail and the disgraceful habit of a convict were all he had to look for. The check with Count Waldheim's forged signature was in Delmar's possession, and unfortunately it was not the only witness to be brought against him. A well-known usurer in K---- possessed similar papers, having been easily induced over Count Waldheim's name to furnish Bertram with a large sum of money for the liquidation of a pressing gaming debt.

With the recklessness of a thorough gamester, Bertram had lived along from day to day in the hopes of winning Eva's hand. To escape dishonour he had become a forger; to cover one counterfeit check he had drawn up another for a larger sum. Delmar had helped him upon one occasion,--he had not dared to apply to him again; and so he had gone on plunging deeper into debt and disgrace, until he saw no means of escape save by a marriage with Eva.

A jail! Horrible thought! There was no sacrifice he would not make to escape such a fate. Once in a feverish vision of so frightful a future there had risen in his excited fancy the thought of a certain casket, in which Eva kept her most valuable jewels, diamonds, and ready money; but he had rejected this thought with horror. Now it recurred to him again. He knew the casket well; it was of ebony, with Eva's monogram inlaid in gilt on the lid. He had helped to pack it into the travelling-carriage when they had left K----, for Eva took it with her wherever she went; it was dear to her as her dead father's gift.

Just before leaving her home Eva had opened it in his presence to put in a large sum of money designed for travelling expenses, and he had admired the brilliancy and size of the diamonds it contained. He had asked his betrothed why she took such valuable jewels with her upon a tour among the mountains, and had received for a reply that she never left them behind her when she went from K----, since the casket with the diamonds was her father's last gift to her, and she was nervous lest it might be stolen if she did not have it with her.

As he now tossed restlessly in bed, the ebony casket, with the glittering diamonds and the large roll of notes, recurred to Bertram's mind. What might be the possible value of the diamonds? Uncle Balthasar had mentioned that his brother had paid more than ten thousand thalers for them in Berlin. Besides the diamonds the casket contained other jewels, worth at least several thousand more, and then the money. Bertram did not know how much there was, but the bundle of large notes was thick, and there were two or three packets of gold besides. There must have been several thousand thalers,--a trifle for Eva, the wealthy heiress, but a treasure for one who looked forward to a jail as his only future.

Physical exhaustion at last overcame him; his eyes closed and he sank into an uneasy slumber, in which his dreams were still of the ebony casket and its contents. He dreamed that Eva gave it to him. He counted the money: it amounted to a huge sum. He took up the diamonds, and was just feeding his gaze upon their lustre, when Leo von Heydeck snatched them from his hand. He turned and grappled with him; but just as he would have overthrown his foe he felt himself in Delmar's iron grasp, and heard his sneering voice cry, "To jail with the scoundrel, he stole both money and diamonds!" In his struggle to free himself he awoke.

Trembling in every limb, he sat up in bed and looked about the room, which was lit up by the pale moonlight. It was some minutes before he could recover from the effects of his feverish dream, and he could not rid himself of the thought of the ebony casket. Eva had it in her room upon a table beside her bed; at least it had been there on the previous morning, for he had noticed and recognized it as he passed by the open door of her room.

He was now wide awake, and his glance fell upon the door that connected his room with Eva's. In the moonlight he saw the glitter of the key in the lock. Were Eva and Aline sound asleep? They had taken a long walk in the morning and had retired late. Bertram had heard the postmaster say that the young ladies had returned quite fatigued from their expedition. Honest Hansel had forgotten to mention that Aline had not joined them.

If he could succeed in unlocking the door and opening it without noise, it would be easy enough to enter the room unheard by the sleeping girls. To possess himself of the casket would be but the work of a moment, and no one would dream that he could have taken it.

Bertram got out of bed, slipped on his dressing-gown, and noiselessly crept to the door leading to Aline's and Eva's apartment. He listened with his ear at the key-hole. The profound silence told of the deep slumber of the occupants of the room. With the greatest caution he succeeded in turning the key noiselessly in the lock; all that was to be done was to open the door as silently. His heart throbbed and his hand trembled as he took hold of the latch. "Courage! Boldly ventured is half won," he said to himself, as he pressed down the latch and pushed against the door, which however did not yield to his efforts,--it was bolted on the inside. "Fool that I am!" he exclaimed to himself as with a whispered curse he stole back again to his bed.

The sun stood high in the heavens when Bertram next awoke. He remembered the events of the night as those of a terrible dream, and yet strangely enough, its fantastic images pursued him in his waking hours. His thoughts dwelt perpetually upon the ebony casket, and upon how he could gain possession of it without being suspected of the theft.

Theft! It was an ugly word, and had not occurred to him during the night, but in the light of day the deed he contemplated showed for what it was, and he acknowledged to himself, with an angry flush that proved him not quite dead to a sense of shame, that the appropriation to himself of the casket, even although it belonged to his betrothed, was nothing more or less than a common theft.

Such thoughts however were uppermost but for a moment. He reflected again that a theft was no worse than a forgery, nor more severely punished by the law. The possession of the casket would enable him to escape punishment for forgery, by providing him the means wherewith, if the worst came to the worst, he might seek refuge in foreign lands. It was folly to shrink from a word, and he found some excuse for himself in the consideration that all that was Eva's might soon be legally his. Was she not his betrothed? If she kept her promise to him it would be easy to contrive some way of restoring the casket to her at a future day; and if she broke her engagement with him she deserved no mercy at his hands, and he must look out for his own safety.

While he dressed, his mind was filled with thoughts of this description with which he silenced the last whispers of conscience. He left his room and betook himself to the balcony. He feared that he should find Delmar at breakfast there, but that could not be helped. As long as the balcony served the guests of the inn for a dining-room it was impossible to avoid seeing them there.

But to Bertram's satisfaction, Delmar was not on the balcony, nor, indeed, was Eva to be found there. Uncle Balthasar and Aunt Minni were sitting at the breakfast-table with FrÄulein von Schlicht and Herwarth, and they had finished drinking their coffee.

Uncle Balthasar received him with some good-natured badinage about his late rising, telling him that Leo von Heydeck and FrÄulein Hilda had carried off Eva and Herr Delmar upon a mountain-excursion early in the morning. They had started at six o'clock, and would not return until evening, for Eva had ordered her servant Wilhelm and a boy from the inn to follow them with lunch packed in baskets.

Guido was relieved, it is true, to know that there was no chance of his meeting his enemies for some hours to come, but vexation at Eva's treatment of him far overbalanced this relief. Had she forgotten that she was betrothed to him? Did she not outrage decency by thus wandering about the country with Delmar without even giving her future bridegroom a choice whether or not to join them? This conduct on her part gave him a right to treat her with the same want of consideration, and again he thought of the ebony casket.

Uncle Balthasar also probably felt uncomfortable at the slight put upon his 'dear Guido' by his niece, and tried to excuse it by remarking that Eva would not have him disturbed after his fatigue of the previous day, and that he, Uncle Balthasar, was quite ready to accompany him if he felt like a morning walk, an offer which Bertram declined almost roughly, explaining that he was far too tired to take another walk, and that he would go to his room and write letters. He finished his breakfast in silence, replying in monosyllables to Uncle Balthasar's good-humoured inquiries with regard to his expedition of the previous day, and immediately rose and left the balcony. With Aline and Aunt Minni he had not exchanged a word, and his morning salutation to Herwarth had been barely acknowledged.

As he passed along the passage to his room he noticed that the door of Eva's apartment was open. The thought suddenly occurred to him, "What if this were the right moment?" He looked cautiously about him,--no one was to be seen. He hastily entered the half-open door, and found himself face to face with Nanette, who was putting the room in order.

"Nanette!"

There was so distinct an expression of surprise unmixed with pleasure on Bertram's face as he uttered her name, that Nanette could not but perceive it, and her temper was not at all improved by doing so. She gave the intruder an angry glance, and said in a sharp tone, with an emphasis upon every word, "Much obliged, I'm sure. Herr von Bertram does really remember my name. I shall certainly find some way to show my gratitude for such condescension. No need to shout until one is out of the woods. If you want to catch gold-fish, see that no one throws stones in the water."

The girl was really angry; her eyes fairly flashed with malice. Bertram saw that she was offended by his neglect of her, and just now she might prove a most valuable ally; she must be appeased. He looked round once more to see that there was no one near, and then entering the room, closed the door carefully behind him. Yes, there beside the bed stood the table upon which was placed the ebony casket,--the goal of his desires. He needed but to stretch out his hand and it was his. But Nanette must be won over to his schemes.

With the sweetest smile at his command he regarded her. "What's the matter, my little darling?" he asked, in the tenderest of tones. "Are you angry with me? What have I done? Here am I so happy to have a chance of seeing you alone at last, hoping you would run into my arms, and you receive me with hard words. How can you do so, you naughty little thing?"

He approached her and would have put his arm around her waist, but she pushed him away. "Don't touch me!" she said crossly. "You think it needs only a couple of smooth words to wind a silly girl around your finger; but you shall find to your cost that you are wrong! I'll show you what it is to turn a poor girl's head and then break her heart for the sake of a purse-proud Zantuppy. You shall learn who I am, my fine Herr Lieutenant!"

"But, my darling----"

"Hands off, or I'll scream!" the girl exclaimed, when Guido made another attempt to put his arm around her; and she struck at him with the coarse dust-cloth she had in her hand. "I'll not be fooled again with your flattering, deceitful speeches. It's all very well to call me 'darling' now, and make eyes at me, but for a whole week you've never even looked at me. I hate FrÄulein Eva's stupid black eyes, but the haughty thing shall know who used to steal to my chamber at night when I lived with the Privy Councillor's lady. She'll be furious enough, and the Herr Lieutenant will see what will become of his gold-fish. Ugh! I can't stand these vulgar commoners! While she drives her four horses, a girl worth ten of her must perch like a scarecrow on the box; and while she's off in the woods with Herr Delmar and Herr von Heydeck, Nanette has to stick at home in a wretched inn and sleep in the garret with a stupid maid! I've lived with the best, and I'll not stand it. I'll give them all something to think of, and the Herr Lieutenant into the bargain. I'll have my revenge, and I hope you'll enjoy it."

Nanette paused for breath, and would then have continued with her angry outburst, but Bertram interrupted her: "Has jealousy made you mad, girl? Do you not know that I hate your mistress as much as you do? Can't your bright eyes see that? You are the only one whom I love, you foolish little darling----"

"I have not seen much of it this last week."

"How can my foolish little pet be so blinded by jealousy? Can we live on air, my dear? We have nothing,--for your sake I must be the victim."

"A pretty victim!"

"And hard enough it is; I am sometimes almost wild with fury when I see how the odious creature treats you; but let her once be my wife, and I will repay with usury every hard word she ever gave to my sweet angel; she shall suffer for her arrogance, and you shall have everything that heart can desire,--a charming villa, a superb carriage, silk dresses, and as many jewels as you want. We will live together in Paradise,--that shall be your revenge!"

Nanette's eyes sparkled: the malicious look passed from her face. She smiled, and did not shrink from the lieutenant's encircling arm; but she shook her head nevertheless, and said, "Those are only castles in the air. You don't know the Zantuppy,--she guards her money like a dragon, or like the foul fiend himself!"

"I do not see that----"

"But I do! There in that black box she has more money than she can ever use; but she keeps it locked up, like a perfect miser. Only a little while ago, in Munich, when I asked her for a paltry advance of fifty thalers of my wages to buy a new bonnet and a silk mantilla for the journey, what did she do? Glared at me out of her stupid black eyes, and said, 'I do not desire to see my maid tricked out in finery; you shall have your wages as you earn them, but not a penny in advance to gratify your vanity.' Those were her very words. I should have liked to box her ears!"

"Odious creature!"

"Yes; and is it not hard to see you making eyes at her and never even looking at me?"

"Can I help it, you foolish child? If she guessed how dear you are to me she would dismiss you instantly, and I should never have a chance of seeing you. I have suffered enough this last week, but I hope we can arrange matters better in future. I have a plan by which we can often be together undisturbed. With your help it can easily be carried out."

"What is it?"

"It is simple enough. You are often busy here while Eva and the rest are on the balcony. I might come to you here, but that would be too dangerous; we might be surprised here at any moment, and all would be lost. And you cannot come to my room either, for fear of being seen; but if you will always take care that the bolt on this side of the door between the rooms is slipped back, we can be together as often as we choose and not a human being suspect it."

Nanette gave an ugly laugh as Bertram made this proposal. "Not so stupid as you think," she said. "Thank heaven I can see through a millstone, and have long known your silly admiration for FrÄulein Aline's doll-face. You would like to pay her a quiet visit now and then. No, I thank you, Herr Lieutenant!"

"You are perfectly insane with jealousy!" Bertram exclaimed, forgetting his wonted caution in his surprise at an accusation so unfounded. Warned however by the angry flush on Nanette's cheek, he restrained his vexation, and continued in a tone of mild reproach: "How can you entertain so odious a suspicion, my pet? I detest that waxen-faced Aline almost as much as her friend. I cannot understand how you can speak so."

"Are you to be trusted, I wonder?"

"You will really provoke me, Nanette. This is all I have in return for my affection. At great risk I come to look for you, to speak with you for a moment, and you receive me thus unkindly. Come, lock the door into the passage and unbolt the one leading to my room, where we can then talk further without any danger. We can hear the moment Frau Schommer leaves the balcony, and you can slip back here again without the slightest fear of detection."

The invitation was too tempting to be refused. Nanette locked the door into the passage, and unbolted the one between FrÄulein Schommer's and Bertram's rooms.

Guido's end was attained to his great satisfaction, and he now had so much to say to Nanette, of the future that awaited her when he should have married the heiress and her wealth should be his, that the girl quite forgot her former jealous ill humour, and imparted to him the import of the various conversations she had lately contrived to overhear between her mistress and FrÄulein Aline. FrÄulein von Schlicht had done all that she could, Nanette said, to induce Eva to break her engagement, but Eva had declared firmly that she would keep her promise.

This intelligence was very soothing to Bertram, and he began to think that it would perhaps be better to resign his designs upon the casket; but he reflected that Eva's purpose would never be maintained should she ever learn from Delmar that her promise was the result of falsehood upon the part of her betrothed. Half an hour passed thus in confidential discourse, when the door leading from the passage to Aunt Minni's room was heard to open. Nanette, at this note of warning, slipped back into Eva's apartment, and the next instant Bertram heard her push the bolt home. He uttered a low curse. "D--n her stupid jealousy!" was the flattering phrase bestowed upon Nanette, as he walked to the window and sat down to ponder upon some other means of obtaining the casket. He could devise none, save by taking it at night. Although Eva's room was often open in the daytime, there would be no possibility of concealing it elsewhere in the house, where it would be immediately missed; and to carry it off to the forest by daylight, when the inn was full of people, would be equally impossible.

Nevertheless he did not resign his project, and he determined to accustom Nanette to a frequent unbolting of the door, in hopes that, grown careless, she might some time forget to bolt it again.

This determination he carried out during the ensuing weeks. He could do so all the more easily by reason of the part which he was compelled to play with regard to the rest of the party. Herwarth, and Leo who came daily with Hilda from the castle to join in excursions among the mountains, took no notice whatever of Eva's betrothed. They never even looked at him, and Aline only spoke to him when common courtesy required that she should do so.

Eva did not hold herself so entirely aloof; she preserved towards Bertram the same cold politeness that she had always shown him, allowing him to call her by her first name, although she never addressed him otherwise than as Herr von Bertram. All familiar approach on his part she repelled by a frigid reserve. Bertram was made to feel that the slightest attempt to assert his rights as her betrothed would be fruitless, and he could not but see how much more familiar was her manner towards Delmar, Herwarth, and even Leo than towards himself.

Warned by his enemy, Guido never ventured to take part in the daily excursions. He made one of the party only at breakfast, dinner, and supper, and here Delmar endured his society no longer than he thought absolutely necessary.

If, at the end of an hour at most, Bertram made any attempt to join in the general conversation, Delmar was sure to make some remark which contained a command to leave in disguise,--a command which the former dragoon hastened to obey. His observation, quickened by terror, told him that at the first sign of rebellion against his enemy's authority the storm which he so dreaded would burst above his devoted head.

In these last few weeks Paul had greatly changed. Often when the others were conversing eagerly he would sit gazing dreamily out upon the distant mountains, in a way very unlike himself. When he roused himself from such brooding reveries, Bertram almost always caught an angry glance from his dark eyes, which convinced him more and more that he meditated striking a blow at his prospects, and that, for some hidden reason, his hand was stayed for the moment. He guessed that this blow was the breaking of his engagement with Eva, for any one could see the pleasure Delmar took in the growing intimacy between Leo and FrÄulein Schommer, and that he would gladly remove any obstacle to their happiness.

The firmer this conviction became in Guido's mind the more was he strengthened in his resolve to insure his own future by the possession of the ebony casket, and he availed himself of every opportunity for the private interviews he had contrived with Nanette. Almost every evening they met in his room, and to his great satisfaction he saw that he was gradually destroying in her frivolous mind all mistrust of him, although every evening when she left him he still heard the low creaking of the bolt as it was pushed into its staples, and Eva's door remained not only closed to him but fast bolted.