ed
down to the earth.

"If it pleases your grace to read here," whispered she, "I will guard the
door."

He shook his head and rushed out. No, not in that narrow, close room, not
in the neighborhood of that tiresome chambermaid could be read the letter
of his beloved--that letter which he believed, nay, knew, contained the
last decision for sealing his whole future fate. In the open air, under
God's blue sky, in the warm and radiant autumn sun, would he receive the
message of his beloved, would he take to his heart what the angel of his
life had to communicate to him. As rapidly as he had stormed up he again
sprang down the steps, and through the well-known rooms and corridors took
the way leading to the park. He was well acquainted with it, for he had
often taken it at the side of his aunt, the unfortunate Bohemian Queen and
Electress, who had found a refuge here in Holland at the court of her
uncle, the Stadtholder Frederick Henry of Orange, and had her little
residence at Castle Doornward. He had often walked it with the princesses,
her daughters, and very bright and pleasant hours had he passed in that
beautiful park with Princess Ludovicka.

On one of those squares, in one of those shady thickets where he had so
often sat with her and her sisters, he would now read her message. With
hasty step, with glowing cheeks fired by enthusiasm, with head aloft, he
strode on, and now entered the woods near the path. They were curtained by
festoons of wild grapevine; no one could see how he now took out the
little note which he had so long concealed in his hand, how he pressed it
to his lips, to his eyes, how he then unfolded it, and again, before
reading it, pressed the beloved characters to his lips. The letter
contained nothing but the words: "The friends are ready and willing.
To-night about one o'clock in the Media Nocte. From there flight. A worthy
asylum is waiting, and the priest stands before the altar to bless the
couple."

"To-night she will be mine--to-night we shall be married! To-night we
shall make our escape!"

He could think of nothing but this. His heart continually repeated it with
loud jubilation, his lips murmured it softly in response, while, knowing
nothing, seeing nothing of the outside world, he sped along through the
alleys and over the squares of the garden. He knew not whither he went, he
had no aim; he only knew that to-night he was to be indissolubly united
with his beloved--that he would fl