nodded
and smiled toward him as they left the room. Count Feodor von Brenda
was now alone with the veiled and insensible woman.

* * * * *

CHAPTER VIII.

BY CHANCE.

As soon as the officers had left the room, Feodor hastened to close
the door after them carefully, to prevent any importunate intrusion.
He then searched thoroughly all the corners of the room, and behind
the window-curtains, to make sure that no one was concealed there. He
wished to be entirely undisturbed with the poor woman whose face he
had not yet beheld, but toward whom he felt himself attracted by a
singular, inexplicable sensation. As soon as he was convinced that
he was quite alone, he went to her with flushed cheeks and a beating
heart, and unveiled her.

But scarcely had he cast his eyes on her, when he uttered a cry,
and staggered back with horror. This woman who lay there before him,
lifeless and motionless, pale and beautiful as a broken flower, was
none other than Elise Gotzkowsky, his beloved! He stood and stared at
her; he pressed his hands to his forehead as if to rouse himself from
this spell which had hold of him, as if to open his eyes to truth and
reality. But it was no dream, no illusion. It was herself, his own
Elise. He approached her, seized her hand, passed his hands over her
glossy hair, and looked at her long and anxiously. His blood rushed
like a stream of fire to his heart, it seethed and burned in his head,
in his veins; and, quite overcome, he sank down before her.

"It is she," murmured he softly, "it is Elise. Now she is mine, and no
one can take her from me. She belongs to me, my wife, my beloved.
Fate itself bears her to my arms, and I were a fool to let her escape
again."

With passionate impetuosity he pressed her to his heart, and covered
her lips and face with his kisses. But the violence of his affection
aroused Elise. Slowly and stunned she raised herself in his arms, and
looked around, as if awakened from a dream. "Where am I?" asked she,
languidly.

Feodor, still kneeling before her, drew her more closely to his heart.
"You are with me," said he, passionately, and as he felt her trembling
in his arms, he continued still more warmly: "Fear nothing; my Elise,
look not so timidly and anxiously about you. Look upon me, me, who am
lying at your feet, and who ask nothing more from Fortune than that
this moment should last an eternity."

Elise scarcely understood him