re; the
blaze from the windows of the ball-room still poured its steady radiance
on the gardens; and the pure serenity of a rising moon shone over all.
Captivity, luxury, and the calm glory of the heavens, were at once
before me. Feverish with pain and pleasure, pressed with the anxieties
of state, and filled with solemn and spiritualized contemplation, I
continued gazing from my casement until the torches and the lights of
the fete had decayed, and the moonbeams had grown pale before the first
flush of dawn. The sounds of life now came upon the cool air, and I was
again in the world.

The eventful day was come--the day which I had longed for with such
ceaseless impatience through years of trial--the day of which, among
scenes the most disturbing, the most perilous, and the most glittering,
I had never lost sight for a moment--the day which I had followed with a
fond and fixed eye, as the pilgrim gazes on the remote horizon where
stands the shrine he loves--it was come at last; and yet, such are the
strange varieties and trembling sensibilities of human feelings, I now
felt awed, uncertain, and almost alarmed, at its arrival. Before its
close, I was to see the being in whom my existence was involved. When I
had met Clotilde last, her sentiments for me were as devoted as were
those expressed in her letter; yet she had repelled my declarations,
sacrificed my happiness to a high-toned enthusiasm, and rejected all the
supplications of an honourable heart, under the promptings of a spirit
too noble to be called pride, yet with all the effect of the haughtiest
disdain.

Still the hour advanced, and I sent a note by her attendant, soliciting
an interview. Her hotel was within a short distance; yet no answer came.
I grew more and more reluctant to approach her without her direct
permission. There are thousands who will not comprehend this
nervousness, but they are still ignorant of the power of real passion.
True affection is the most timid thing in the world. At length, unable
to endure this fever of the soul, I determined to make the trial at
once, enter her presence, make a final declaration of all my hopes and
fears, and hear my fate once for all.

I was on the point of leaving my chamber for the purpose, when a message
from the viceroy stopped me. The prisoner whom I had seen brought in
during the night was to be examined before the privy council, and my
presence was essential. Fate, or fortune, seemed always to thwart