d Antonia holding each other
closely embraced, and looking at each other in a rapture of bliss. The
tones of the singing and of the accompanying piano went on, although
Antonia was not seen to be singing, and B---- was not touching the
piano. Here Krespel fell into a species of profound unconsciousness, in
which the vision and the music faded and were lost. When he recovered,
all that remained was a sense of anxiety and alarm. He hastened into
Antonia's room.

"She was lying on the couch, with her eyes, closed, and a heavenly
smile on her face, as if she were dreaming of the most exquisite
happiness and bliss. But she was dead!"

Whilst Theodore had been telling this tale, Ottmar had been manifesting
his impatience nay, his lively repugnance in various ways. Sometimes he
would get up and walk about the room, then he would sit down again, and
drink glass after glass of the contents of the vase; then he sat down
at Theodore's table, and pulled the papers about, till he found an
almanac, of which he eagerly turned over the leaves for a time, till at
length he laid it down before him, open on the table, with the air of
having discovered something in it of the deepest interest and
importance.

"Well!" cried Lothair, when Theodore had ended his story; "this is
almost too much. You can't bear the idea of the kindly visionary whom
Cyprian told us about; you tell us it is dangerous to peep down into
those mysterious abysses of nature; you will neither talk about things
of the sort, nor hear them talked about, yet you come in upon us with
a story which, frightful as it is in its crackiness, is infinitely
beyond, at all events, _my_ powers of endurance. What was the
gentle, happy, contented Serapion in comparison with this splenetic
Krespel--absolutely terrific in his spleneticism? You said we were to
be led, gently, from insanity, _via_ eccentricity, to ordinary,
everyday rationality; and you go on to show us pictures which, if we
look at them with any closeness, are enough to drive us clean out of
our senses. Cyprian's story was largely tinctured by his own
individuality, but yours was so by yours in a far higher degree, for I
know that the moment music is in question, you get into a sort of
magnetized condition, and see the strangest visions. As is usual with
you, you have given your story a strong dash of mystery which, of course,
excites and enthrals a listener, as anything out of the common groove
will do, be it never so