e end of the opera. Now, I
cannot for one instant believe you so devoid of gallantry as to refuse a
lady your escort when she even condescends to ask you for it."

There was nothing else left for Franz to do but to take up his hat,
open the door of the box, and offer the countess his arm. It was quite
evident, by her manner, that her uneasiness was not feigned; and Franz
himself could not resist a feeling of superstitious dread--so much
the stronger in him, as it arose from a variety of corroborative
recollections, while the terror of the countess sprang from an
instinctive belief, originally created in her mind by the wild tales she
had listened to till she believed them truths. Franz could even feel her
arm tremble as he assisted her into the carriage. Upon arriving at
her hotel, Franz perceived that she had deceived him when she spoke of
expecting company; on the contrary, her own return before the appointed
hour seemed greatly to astonish the servants. "Excuse my little
subterfuge," said the countess, in reply to her companion's
half-reproachful observation on the subject; "but that horrid man had
made me feel quite uncomfortable, and I longed to be alone, that I might
compose my startled mind." Franz essayed to smile. "Nay," said she, "do
not smile; it ill accords with the expression of your countenance, and
I am sure it does not spring from your heart. However, promise me one
thing."

"What is it?"

"Promise me, I say."

"I will do anything you desire, except relinquish my determination of
finding out who this man is. I have more reasons than you can imagine
for desiring to know who he is, from whence he came, and whither he is
going."

"Where he comes from I am ignorant; but I can readily tell you where he
is going to, and that is down below, without the least doubt."

"Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make," said Franz.

"Well, then, you must give me your word to return immediately to your
hotel, and make no attempt to follow this man to-night. There are
certain affinities between the persons we quit and those we meet
afterwards. For heaven's sake, do not serve as a conductor between that
man and me. Pursue your chase after him to-morrow as eagerly as you
please; but never bring him near me, if you would not see me die of
terror. And now, good-night; go to your rooms, and try to sleep away all
recollections of this evening. For my own part, I am quite sure I shall
not be able to close m