"is not the impression of your thoughts; you seek to palliate my apprehensions; but your efforts are useless; I see under the human form of this Alban an infernal being, from whom there is every thing to be feared! Listen, Franz, watch with me over this man, for there is in him, I repeat to you, something formidable and malicious,"
The two old friends took each other by the hand before separating. The night was silent and dark. Maria reposed in a deep slumber. She awoke at the expiration of six hours, and doctor Alban's prescription was followed. A few moment's after, she appeared in a more flourishing state of health than ever, and had no remembrance of her accident the night before. Alban that day did not appear at the family meals, and sent word that a long correspondence would occupy all his time.
Maria to Adelgunde.
Dear friend of my childhood, with what joy your letter has filled me! my feelings overpowered me at the sight of your handwriting. With what happiness I found in it good news concerning your brother Hippolyt, my cherished affianced husband! Your poor friend, dear Adelgunde, has been fearfully sick. I cannot explain to you the kind of pain that I endured. Every thing appeared to me the opposite of what it really was; the least noise pierced my head like the sound of a cannon; I had the most singular waking dreams; an unaccountable uneasiness consumed my strength; I felt death coming upon me with all his terrors, and yet I was impatient to live. All my physicians wasted their time in examinations and consultations, when one day my brother Ottmar brought one of his friends to the house, who cured me in a most surprising manner.
There appeared to me in nearly all my dreams a grave and handsome man, who, in spite of his youthful appearance, inspired me with deep respect. This strange personage drew me towards him by the magnet of a mysterious tenderness.—
