One day, being in the room which had formerly been the library, and adjoining to Claudina's bed chamber, sitting at the window indulging his own reflections, he thought he heard the Count's voice in a whispering tone; there was nothing extraordinary or reprehensible in his being in her apartment, yet some how Ernest found his curiosity excited to know why the conversation should be in a whisper; he therefore listened, and though he could only make out indirect sentences and half words, he understood but too much, and retired overwhelmed with astonishment and horror; a scheme replete with the most unpardonable wickedness seemed to be in agitation, which it was his duty, if possible, to prevent.
The following day Ernest sought out the Count's valet, who had been always more civil to him than ever his master had, since the old Count's death, and which indeed arose from a circumstance Ernest had long since forgotten. In the juvenile days of Rhodophil and Ferdinand, when they were riding out
