ering his
emotion.

But the Colonel cried, again and again, "What nobility of mind! What
loftiness of character! Who is there like this man of men--my heart's
own friend for ever!" Then he pressed Moritz, Angelica, and his own
wife, to his heart, and said laughingly, that he did not care to hear
another syllable about the wicked plot they had been laying against
him, and hoped, too, that Angelica would have no more trouble with
spectral eyes.

It being now well on in the day, the Colonel begged Moritz and the
Count to remain and have dinner. Dagobert was sent for, and arrived in
high spirits.

When they sat down to table, Marguerite was missing. It appeared she
had shut herself up in her room, saying she was unwell and unable to
join the company. "I do not know," said Madame von G----, "what has
been the matter with Marguerite for some time; she has been full of the
strangest fancies, laughing and crying without apparent reason. Really,
she is at times almost unendurable."

"Your happiness is Marguerite's death," Dagobert whispered to Moritz.

"Spirit-seer!" answered Moritz in the same tone, "do not mar my joy."

The Colonel had never been in better spirits or happier, and Madame von
G---- had never been so pleased in the depths of her heart, relieved as
she was from anxieties which had often been present with her before.
When, in addition to this, Dagobert was revelling in the most brilliant
high-spirits, and the Count, forgetting his pain, suffered the stores
of his much experienced mind to stream forth in rich abundance. It will
be seen that our couple of lovers were encircled by a rich garland of
gladness.

Evening was coming on, the noblest wines were pearling in the glasses,
toasts to the health of the betrothed pair were drunk enthusiastically;
when suddenly the door opened and Marguerite came tottering in, in
white night-gear, with her hair down, pale, and distorted, like death
itself.

"Marguerite, what extraordinary conduct!" the Colonel cried.

But, paying no heed to him, she dragged herself up to Moritz, placed
her ice-cold hand on his breast, laid a gentle kiss on his brow,
murmured in a faint, hollow voice, "The kiss of the dying brings luck
to the happy bridegroom," and sank on the floor.

"This poor foolish girl is in love with Moritz," Dagobert whispered to
the Count, who answered--

"I know. I suppose she has carried her foolishness so far as to take
poison."

"Good heavens!" cried Dag