they might not overtake me.

At the city-gate I turned into the street on the right hand, and
hurried on with a throbbing heart among the silent houses and gardens.
To my amazement, I suddenly found myself in the very Square with the
fountain, for which, by daylight, I had vainly searched. There stood
the solitary summer-house again in the glorious moonlight, and again
the Lady fair was singing the same Italian song as on the evening
before. In an ecstasy I tried first the low door, then the house door,
and at last the big garden gate, but all were locked. Then first it
occurred to me that eleven had not yet struck. I was irritated by the
slow flight of time, but good manners forbade my climbing over the
garden gate as I had done yesterday. Therefore I paced the lonely
Square to and fro for a while, and at last again seated myself upon
the basin of the fountain and resigned myself to meditation and calm
expectancy.

The stars twinkled in the skies; the Square was quiet and deserted; I
listened with delight to the song of the Lady fair, as it mingled with
the ripple of the fountain. All at once I perceived a white figure
approach from the opposite side of the Square and go directly
toward the little garden door. I peered eagerly through the dazzling
moonlight--it was the queer painter in his white cloak. He drew forth
a key quickly, unlocked the door, and, before I knew it, was within
the garden.

I had from the first entertained a special dislike of this painter on
account of his nonsensical talk. But now I fell into a rage with him.
"The low fellow is certainly intoxicated again," I thought; "he has
got the key from the maid, and intends to surprise, and perhaps to
assault, the Lady fair." And I rushed precipitately through the low
door, which was still open, into the garden.

When I entered, all was quiet and lonely. The folding-doors of the
summer-house were open, and a ray of lamplight issuing from it played
upon the grass and flowers near. Even from a distance I could see the
interior. In a magnificent apartment, hung with green and partially
illumined by a lamp with a white shade, the lovely Lady fair with
her guitar was reclining on a silken lounge, never dreaming, in her
innocence, of the danger without.

I had not much time, however, to look, for I perceived the white
figure among the shrubbery, stealthily approaching the summer-house
from the opposite side, while the song floating on the air from the
h