mney-piece, and looking at me fixedly, said--'Was it
you who put the doctor into that tower?' 'Yes, madam.' 'Unhappy man! you
will never know the extent of the harm you have done.' I was about to
answer, but she interrupted me--'No more; go and fasten every door and
lie down. I will sit up. To-morrow morning you will find Doctor Fritz at
Knapwurst's, and bring him to me. Make no noise, and mind, you have seen
nothing and know nothing!'"

"Is that all, Sperver?" I asked.

He nodded gravely.

"And about the count?"

"He is in again. He is better."

We had got to the antechamber. Gideon knocked at the door gently, then he
opened it, announcing--"Doctor Fritz."

I took a pace forward, and stood in the presence of Odile. Sperver had
retired, closing the door.

A strange impression crossed my mind at the sight of the young countess
standing pale and still, leaning upon the back of an arm-chair, her eyes
of feverish brightness, and robed in a long dress of rich black velvet.
But she stood calm and firm.

"Doctor," she said, motioning me to a chair, "pray sit down; I have a
very serious matter to speak to you about."

I obeyed in silence.

In her turn she sat down and seemed to be collecting her thoughts.

"Providence or an evil destiny, I know not which, has made you witness of
a mystery in which lies involved the honour of my family."

So she knew it all!

I sat confounded and astonished.

"Madam, believe me, it was but by chance--"

"It is useless," she interrupted; "I know it all, and it is frightful!"

Then, in a heartrending appealing voice, she cried--

"My father is not a guilty man!"

I shuddered, and with hands outstretched cried--

"Madam, I know it; I know that the life of your father has been one of
the noblest and loveliest."

Odile had half-risen from her seat, as if to protest, by anticipation,
against any supposition that might be injurious to her father. Hearing me
myself taking up his defence, she sank back again, and covering her face
with her hands, the tears began to flow.

"God bless you, sir!" she exclaimed. "I should have died with the very
thought that a breath of suspicion was harboured against him."

"Ah! madam, who could possibly attach any reality to the action of a
somnambulist?"

"That is quite true, sir; I had had that thought myself, but
appearances--pardon me--yet I feared--still I knew Doctor Fritz was a man
of honour."

"Pray, madam, be calm."

"No," she cri