f the
Colonel's widow. Susanna looked up to the window, and stood in mute
astonishment; for at the window stood the Colonel's widow, but no longer
the gloomy, sorrowful lady. With her hands pressed upon her breast, she
looked up to the clear stars with an expression of glowing gratitude.
There was, however, something wild and overstrained in her appearance,
which made Susanna, who was possessed by astonishment and strange
feelings, determine to go to her immediately.

On Susanna's entrance into the room Mrs. Astrid turned hastily to her.
She held a letter clasped to her breast, and said with restless delight
and a kind of vehemence--

"To Bergen, to Bergen! Susanna, I set off to-morrow morning to Bergen.
Get all in readiness for my journey as soon as you can."

Susanna was confounded. "To Bergen?" stammered she, inquiringly; "and
the road thither is so difficult, so dangerous, at this time----"

"And if death threatened me upon it, I should yet travel!" said Mrs.
Astrid, with impatient energy. "But I desire that no one accompany me.
You can stay here at home."

"Lord God!" said Susanna, painfully excited, "I spoke not for myself.
Could I die to save my lady from any danger, any sorrow, heaven knows
that I would do it with joy! Let me go with you to Bergen."

"I have been very unhappy, Susanna!" resumed Mrs. Astrid, without
remarking her agitated state of mind; "life has been a burden to me. I
have doubted the justice of Providence; doubted whether our destinies
were guided by a fatherly hand; but now--now I see--now all may be very
different.--But go, Susanna, I must compose myself; and you also seem to
need rest. Go, my child."

"Only one prayer," said Susanna--"I may go with you to-morrow morning?
Ah! refuse me not, for I shall still go with my lady."

"Well, well," said Mrs. Astrid, almost joyfully, "then it would be no
use my saying no."

Susanna seized and kissed her hand, and was ready to weep, from all the
pain and love which filled her soul; but her lady withdrew her hand, and
again desired her kindly but commandingly to go.

When she was alone, she turned her eyes upon the letter which she held
in her hands.

Upon the envelope of the letter stood these words, written by an
unsteady hand.

"To my wife, after my death."

The letter was as follows:

"I feel that a great change is about to take place in me. Probably I may
die, or become insane. In the first place, I will thank my wife for her
ang