“Ferdinand,” said she sorrowfully, “will you ever remain faithful to your love?”
This, was the first word of avowed affection which I had ever heard from her lips; and I vehemently protested my fidelity with a thousand asseverations.
“Never cease to remember the oath you have sworn before this altar,” she rejoined; and then added, with an admonitory and indelible impressiveness, “If you were to break it, I should be compelled to fearfully persecute you.”
With these words she advanced towards the door. I now entreated her to give me also a remembrance of our meeting; and pointed to one of her bright golden locks. She looked sadly at me; and said imploringly,
“Do not persist in this request, Ferdinand; for, believe me, my compliance with it would not increase your happiness. On the contrary, it might cause you to cease to love me; and every kind of misfortune would pursue you. Trust to my words, and urge me no more.”
She then quickly escaped through the secret door by which she had entered. When however I endeavoured to open it to catch at least a last glance of her, the lock withstood all my efforts.
Rejoiced at the bright future which opened to my view, I seated myself beside my now waking companions; and evaded their questions by pretended drowsiness, till at last sleep really mastered my imagination; and many gay and terrific visions floated confusedly before my eyes.
Morning had scarcely dawned, when Bentheim sent to inquire for his guests. The officers were ashamed to confess that they had again slept through the whole night; and, probably in the hope of escaping ridicule, they pretended to be highly offended, insisting that the master of the house had wished to alarm them by idle fears, which he knew to be unfounded and vague.
