he
clock struck two did he rouse himself from this bewilderment, and
remember that for more than an hour he had been standing in the same
spot, gazing at the same figure on the silk tapestry. His limbs had
grown stiff, and his joints ached as he walked toward his bed. He threw
himself on the silk coverlid, still in his clothes, which he no longer
thought it worth while to remove, and closed his eyes. The candles were
still burning, and the moon shone so brightly into the window, that
sleep refused to visit his eyelids. As if he were haunted by the
illusions of fever, voices echoed in his ear Toinette's passionate
confessions, his own wise answers, which had had so little power over
his own heart, and the count's cold, formal words, which whenever they
recurred to his memory sent the hot blood to his brow. Moreover, a
faint perfume of violets surrounded him, which recalled the moment when
her curls had rested on his breast; he fancied he felt her glowing lips
press his, her tears on his cheek, her exquisite form in his arms,
clinging to him as a shipwrecked sailor stretches out his arms toward
the land.

"This is too much!" he faltered--"I would that daylight were here and
I were a thousand miles away!"

Suddenly the candles flickered and expired. He started up, and saw the
first grey light of morning creeping over the trees. "It's time," said
he, "quite time! This is not a house in which I can sleep."

He dipped his face in the wash basin, rubbed his cheeks and temples
till the last lingering odor of violets had been washed away, then with
trembling hands seized his traveling satchel, threw the strap over his
shoulder, and left the room.

No one met him as he passed along the dark corridors and down the wide
staircase. Beside the main entrance was the room occupied by the
porter, who slept with his door open and looked up in alarm when he saw
a guest standing equipped for travel so early in the morning. The
thaler he felt in his hand only partially enlightened him, he nodded
sleepily when Edwin told him to give his compliments to his master and
to say to him that he had set out before daybreak, because he preferred
to walk in the cool of the morning. The man then opened the little side
door adjoining the main entrance and took leave of the departing guest
with an awkward bow.

The dogs barked as Edwin crossed the wide courtyard, but he met no
human being. Outside were the dark woods, veiled by the light
transpare