family calamity be made the topic of idle curiosity? But, in reality, she has resided in this castle–her state requiring constant and often strict restraint. I have been scarcely ever absent from the castle; but, alas! my tenderness has answered but in part. With a caprice incidental to persons in her dreadful situation, she has taken an extreme dislike to me, and fancies that I am her uncle, and imprison her to detain the vast possessions of which she fancies herself the heiress.”
The fatal paper dropped from Ernest’s hand. He remained pale, breathless, the dew starting, and the veins swelled of his forehead. “God of heaven, have mercy on me!–What have I done?” Again he caught up the letter, and, with a desperate effort, read to the close.
“My faithful Heinrich and his sister Clotilde are the only depositories of this secret. While I live, I shall devote myself to the care of my ill-starred Minna, who is the very image of her mother. When I die–and the shadow of death even now rests upon my way–I commend her to her God and to you. You will be to her and to Pauline as a brother. I know I can rely upon you.”
“Married to a maniac–a hopeless maniac!–What will my mother say?”–exclaimed Ernest, as he paced the room. The image of his beautiful bride rose before him; he felt as if his tenderness and his devotion must avail; he would watch her every look–anticipate her very thoughts. He started–it was the steward who came into the room.
“I see,” said the old man, “that you have read my master’s letter. Alas! I have dreadful news to tell. The Baroness Minna has evaded all our precautions. She has escaped, I know not whither. I only trust that it is alone.”
“Heinrich,” said Ernest, solemnly, “I speak to you as the trusted and valued friend of my beloved uncle. Minna is with me. I married her last night–deceived, alas! by a narrative which I ought never to have credited. I at least ought to have known my uncle too well to believe that he could be guilty of fraud or oppression. The rest of my life will be too little to atone for that moment’s doubt. Old man, hear me swear to devote myself to his children!”
“God bless you!” sobbed the old man, as he clasped the hand which Ernest extended towards him.
Months passed away in unceasing watchfulness on the part of Ernest. With trembling hope he began to rely on Minna’s complete recovery. Wild she was at times, and her fondness for him had a strange character of fierceness; but his influence over her was unbounded, and her passion for music was a constant resource. By Heinrich’s advice they left the castle, that no painful train of thought might be awakened; and they resided in a light, cheerful villa, amid the suburbs of Vienna. Her husband found all the plans of mutual study in which the young student lover had so delighted, were in vain. It was impossible to fix her attention long on anything. Companionship there was none between them, and the call on his attention was unceasing; but his affection became even deeper for its very fear, and it was hallowed by the feeling of how sacred it was as a duty. Gradually as he became more and more satisfied about Minna, he grew more anxious for Pauline. He saw her drooping day by day; her spirits became unequal, and her eyes were rarely without tears. Too late he discovered how she loved him. Her bodily weakness seemed to render her less capable of repressing her
