lines out of the opera "The Bride of Lammermoor"--

"Sache donc qu'en ce domaine
D'ou me chasse encor ta haine,
En seigneur j'ai commande.

At least," he put in, "during the absence of the Baron, for I was
heir-presumptive--a presumption which, alas! is destined never to be
changed into certitude----"

Francis, visibly affected by his jesting style, interrupted him,
and said to me--

"Rudolf von Zwenken, my grandfather's only son."

"It would cost my charming niece too great an effort to say 'My
uncle.' It is my own fault. I have never been able to inspire people
with the necessary respect for me. Well, now, Cousin van Zonshoven,
you know who I am, but there is one point I must rectify: Rudolf von
Zwenken no longer exists--he is civilly dead."

"And morally," murmured Francis.

"And if he were to rise again under that name," he continued,
without heeding Francis's interruption, "he would commit something
like suicide, for he would be arrested and shot."

"And knowing that, after all that has been done to put you beyond
danger, you show yourself in this place again! It is inexplicable,"
cried Francis.

"But, my dear, who told you I had come to show myself here? It is
true we give representations in the provinces; but the person who
appears in public is Mr. Smithson, so well begrimed that Baron von
Zwenken himself would not recognize his own son."

"That's very fortunate, for it would be the death of him," retorted
Francis, harshly.

"How you exaggerate, dearest. Monsieur mon pere never had so much
affection for me. He shall never know Mr. Smithson. His son Rudolf,
however, seeks an interview with him, and requests you, Francis,
to assist in bringing it about."

"It is useless, sir; you may neither see nor speak to your father
again."

"Can you be so hard-hearted, Francis?"

"My duty obliges me, and I must have some regard for the feelings of
your father in the first place."

"But, my dear child, try to understand me. I only wish to kiss his
hand and beg his pardon. With this object I have run all risks, and
imposed on myself all kinds of fatigue. I have just ridden hard for
three hours, hidden myself in the old ruins, climbed the garden wall
at the risk of breaking an arm or a leg; then, seeing a light here,
I broke in--and all this for nothing! No, my darling, this cannot
be; you will still be my good angel, and arrange the meeting I so
much desi