-'I
offered to manage it, intending, my dear friend--intending, upon my soul,
to be of use to you. Well, if you will not profit by my goodwill, then
be of use to me; and as soon as ever you feel ready, go to the Flying
Mercury where we met last night. It will be none the worse for you; and
to make it quite plain, it will be better for the rest of us.'

'Dear madam, certainly,' said Otto. 'If I am prepared for the chief
evil, I shall not quarrel with details. Go, then, with my best
gratitude; and when I have written a few lines of leave-taking, I shall
immediately hasten to keep tryst. To-night I shall not meet so dangerous
a cavalier,' he added, with a smiling gallantry.

As soon as Madame von Rosen was gone, he made a great call upon his
self-command. He was face to face with a miserable passage where, if it
were possible, he desired to carry himself with dignity. As to the main
fact, he never swerved or faltered; he had come so heart-sick and so
cruelly humiliated from his talk with Gotthold, that he embraced the
notion of imprisonment with something bordering on relief. Here was, at
least, a step which he thought blameless; here was a way out of his
troubles. He sat down to write to Seraphina; and his anger blazed. The
tale of his forbearances mounted, in his eyes, to something monstrous;
still more monstrous, the coldness, egoism, and cruelty that had required
and thus requited them. The pen which he had taken shook in his hand.
He was amazed to find his resignation fled, but it was gone beyond his
recall. In a few white-hot words, he bade adieu, dubbing desperation by
the name of love, and calling his wrath forgiveness; then he cast but one
look of leave-taking on the place that had been his for so long and was
now to be his no longer; and hurried forth--love's prisoner--or pride's.

He took that private passage which he had trodden so often in less
momentous hours. The porter let him out; and the bountiful, cold air of
the night and the pure glory of the stars received him on the threshold.
He looked round him, breathing deep of earth's plain fragrance; he looked
up into the great array of heaven, and was quieted. His little turgid
life dwindled to its true proportions; and he saw himself (that great
flame-hearted martyr!) stand like a speck under the cool cupola of the
night. Thus he felt his careless injuries already soothed; the live air
of out-of-doors, the quiet of the world, as if by their si