just and moderate demand. You will, therefore, have the goodness to
write a note to the count at once, informing him that we are holding
you for a ransom, that he must send the money as quickly as possible,
and that unless he does so--you understand me, we should be compelled
to treat you with much less consideration. The ransom will not be
accepted unless brought by a single man, under a pledge of the
strictest secrecy."

This scene was viewed with the most anxious interest by all the guests
of the inn, but most anxiously of all by the countess. She trembled
every moment lest the young man should betray himself. She was firmly
resolved to ransom him for a large sum, but just as strong was her
resolve not to take a single step with these robbers for any earthly
consideration. She had found a knife in the goldsmith's coat pocket.
She held it open in her hand, prepared to kill herself rather than
suffer such a fate. Not less anxious was Felix himself. To be sure, he
was consoled and strengthened by the reflection that it was a manly and
praiseworthy act to come to the assistance of a helpless lady as he was
doing, but he feared lest he should betray himself by each movement or
by his voice. His alarm increased when the robber spoke of his writing
a letter. How should he write it? By what title should he address the
count? In what style should he write the letter, without betraying
himself? But his anxiety rose to the highest pitch, when the robber
chief laid paper and pen before him, and requested him to lift his veil
and write the letter.

Felix did not know how becoming this disguise was to him, or he would
not have entertained the least fear of discovery. For, as he finally
felt forced to raise his veil, the robber chief, surprised by the
beauty of the lady and her somewhat manly and spirited features,
regarded her with still greater respect. This fact did not escape the
young goldsmith's attention; and satisfied that at least for a moment
there was no danger of discovery, he took up the pen and wrote to his
pretended husband, after a form that he had once read in an old book:

"My Lord and Husband:--I, unhappy woman, have been seized, on my
journey, in the dead of night, by people whom I cannot credit with good
intentions. They will keep me a prisoner until you, Sir Count, have
paid down the sum of twenty thousand guldens for me. This is provided
you do not inform the authorities of this matter, or seek their
a