ade me feel sure that there was a plan against me. I felt as if
it had been a plan to take me to a madhouse. I once saw a picture of a
madhouse, that I could never forget; it seemed to me very much like
some of the life I had seen--the people strutting, quarreling,
leering--the faces with cunning and malice in them. It was my will to
keep myself from wickedness; and I prayed for help. I had seen what
despised women were: and my heart turned against my father, for I saw
always behind him that man who made me shudder. You will think I had
not enough reason for my suspicions, and perhaps I had not, outside my
own feeling; but it seemed to me that my mind had been lit up, and all
that might be stood out clear and sharp. If I slept, it was only to see
the same sort of things, and I could hardly sleep at all. Through our
journey I was everywhere on the watch. I don't know why, but it came
before me like a real event, that my father would suddenly leave me and
I should find myself with the Count where I could not get away from
him. I thought God was warning me: my mother's voice was in my soul. It
was dark when we reached Prague, and though the strange bunches of
lamps were lit it was difficult to distinguish faces as we drove along
the street. My father chose to sit outside--he was always smoking
now--and I watched everything in spite of the darkness. I do believe I
could see better then than I ever did before: the strange clearness
within seemed to have got outside me. It was not my habit to notice
faces and figures much in the street; but this night I saw every one;
and when we passed before a great hotel I caught sight only of a back
that was passing in--the light of the great bunch of lamps a good way
off fell on it. I knew it--before the face was turned, as it fell into
shadow, I knew who it was. Help came to me. I feel sure help came. I
did not sleep that night. I put on my plainest things--the cloak and
hat I have worn ever since; and I sat watching for the light and the
sound of the doors being unbarred. Some one rose early--at four
o'clock, to go to the railway. That gave me courage. I slipped out,
with my little bag under my cloak, and none noticed me. I had been a
long while attending to the railway guide that I might learn the way to
England; and before the sun had risen I was in the train for Dresden.
Then I cried for joy. I did not know whether my money would last out,
but I trusted. I could sell the things in my