al of the troops, while others, detained by
personal affairs, had merely obtained short leave of absence. To the
latter belonged Colonel Feodor von Brenda. General Bachmann had given
him two days' leave, under the impression that he would avail himself
of the time to enjoy, undisturbed, the society of his bride, the
Countess Lodoiska von Sandomir.

The general knew nothing of the difference between the colonel and
his betrothed. He did not know that, according to her agreement with
Bertram, Lodoiska had not informed Feodor of her arrival in Berlin.
But, nevertheless, Feeder had heard of it. The countess's own
chambermaid, knowing the liberality of the young count, had gone to
him, and for a golden bribe had betrayed to him her presence, and
communicated all that she knew of her plans and intentions.

This news detained the colonel in Berlin. The unexpected arrival of
his affianced pressed upon him the necessity of a decision, for he was
aware of the impossibility of tearing asunder the firm and heart-felt
bond which attached him to Elise, to unite himself to a wife to whom
he was only engaged by a given promise, a pledged word.

Feodor would probably have given up his whole fortune to pay a debt of
honor; would have unhesitatingly thrown his life into the scale if it
had been necessary to redeem his word. But he was not ashamed to break
the vow of fidelity which he had made to a woman, and to desert her to
whom he had promised eternal love. Besides, his pride was wounded by
the advent of the countess, which appeared to him as a restraint on
his liberty and an espionage on his actions.

She had concealed her arrival from him, and he consequently concluded
that she was acquainted with his faithlessness, and nursed some plan
of removing the obstacles which lay between her and her lover. His
pride was irritated by the thought that he should be compelled to
maintain an engagement which he could no longer fulfil from love, but
only from a sense of duty. Such a restraint on his free will seemed
to him an unparalleled hardship. He felt a burning hatred toward the
woman who thus forcibly insisted on fastening herself upon him, and
an equally ardent love toward the young girl of whom they wished to
deprive him.

Doubly charming and desirable did this young, innocent, lovely girl
appear to him when he compared her with the mature, self-possessed,
worldly woman of whom he could only hope that he might be her last
love, while