al; for several months, every day brought
different weather, as sunshine or storm was tried to dispel the
unapproachable virtue in which this singular being enwrapped herself.
At last--this I have partly from the count himself, partly from the
maid, a person who would allow herself to be hacked into kindling wood
for her mistress--he seized upon a perfectly desperate expedient, from
which any sensible person who had any knowledge of this lady's
character would have dissuaded him; he attempted to give her, in a cup
of tea, a sort of love potion, whose principal ingredient was morphine,
in order--you understand--that old heathen Morpheus, has already
performed a great many just such services--but this time it seems he
conducted the matter awkwardly--and in short the plan failed and
everything was spoiled."

"Horrible!" exclaimed Edwin. "This--this is certainly--"

"Had you no suspicion of it?"

"What woman would relate such an affair, even to a mother or sister? My
God! what a man."

"Hm!" said the little doctor, looking him sharply in the face, "they're
human, and human actions are after their style. However, I think you
judge the count too harshly. You, as a platonic admirer, and the
countess' friend and adviser, can probably not imagine how a man feels,
who calls such a treasure his own, and yet knows it to be secluded in a
tower with seven gates, to which he has not the key. If, armed with a
rude club, he tries to burst the bolts--but we won't argue about it.
It's certain that, when he once suggested the idea, I firmly advised
him not to adopt it, merely on account of its doubtfulness and the
small probability of success. But you see, my friend, that's just what
she will not believe, though the count himself bore witness in my
behalf. She says such a disgraceful idea could never have originated in
the brain of a gentleman, with some sense of honor, who did not wish to
degrade his own wife to the level of a common wench. The plan and its
execution must have been suggested by some officious subordinate fiend,
and this shameful, and, with all his diabolical cunning, very stupid
devil, could be no one else than poor Doctor Basler, who in his
over-wisdom and in obedience to his master's commands, was quite
capable of playing a trick as simple as it was disgraceful."

He sighed, and as if in a fit of moral indignation, struck at the
blackberry bushes that grew on the edge of the forest. Suddenly he
paused, drew the br