ing of my life will be clouded,' said the governor to Arwed;
'and already I seem to see the lightning flash which is to destroy my
last earthly happiness. God's will be done! Is Mac Donalbain yet in the
castle?' he asked of his steward, who approached at that moment.

'When he came out of the garden yesterday evening,' answered the
steward, 'he merely took his gun and sporting pouch from the dining
room, spoke a few words to the countess, and then rushed like a madman
down the mountain. Since then I have seen no more of him. Something
very disagreeable must have happened to him, for no one could look upon
his face without terror.'

'You must relate to me the conversation which Megret had with Mac
Donalbain,' said the governor; and then turning to the steward he asked
him, 'is my daughter yet awake?'

'All is yet still in the chamber of the countess,' answered the latter.

'Let her be awakened,' commanded the governor. 'The breakfast waits for
her.'

The steward departed, and the governor returned with Arwed to the lower
hall. There, for a long time, they walked up and down the room
together. Arwed dreaded lifting the veil under which the trouble was
concealed, and his uncle, who remarked his reluctance, had not courage
to repeat his request. Meanwhile the breakfast was brought in. The
governor silently filled the goblets, looked occasionally toward the
door, sighed, seized the cup mechanically and raised it to his lips,
and then set it down again without drinking.

'Am I not like a child who is trembling with fear in anticipation of a
ghost story?' he at length said, with a forced jest. 'Courage! narrate
it Arwed.'

Arwed was about to obey, when an anxious movement was heard without,
and, pale as death, the steward re-entered with a billet in his hand.

'The countess is nowhere to be found,' stammered he. 'Her bed has not
been disturbed. She was in the garden late last evening, and sent her
chambermaid to bed.'

'What is that?' cried the governor rushing upon the steward. 'What
holdest thou there?'

'A billet for your excellency,' answered the latter, 'I found it in the
chamber of the countess.'

The governor seized, opened, and read it. As the oak of a thousand
years yields to the force of its own weight when the axe has severed
its roots, wavers, and finally rushes crackling to the ground; so
wavered and fell that noble old man, whose mental agony was happily
relieved by a suspension of consciousness.