t receded, he could
see a part of the lamplit terrace where a sentry silently paced, and
beyond that a corner of the town with interlacing street-lights. But all
around him the young trees stood mystically blurred in the dim shine;
and in the stock-still quietness the upleaping god appeared alive.

In this dimness and silence of the night, Otto's conscience became
suddenly and staringly luminous, like the dial of a city clock. He
averted the eyes of his mind, but the finger, rapidly travelling,
pointed to a series of misdeeds that took his breath away. What was he
doing in that place? The money had been wrongly squandered, but that was
largely by his own neglect. And he now proposed to embarrass the
finances of this country which he had been too idle to govern. And he
now proposed to squander the money once again, and this time for a
private, if a generous end. And the man whom he had reproved for
stealing corn he was now to set stealing treasure. And then there was
Madame von Rosen, upon whom he looked down with some of that
ill-favoured contempt of the chaste male for the imperfect woman.
Because he thought of her as one degraded below scruples, he had picked
her out to be still more degraded, and to risk her whole irregular
establishment in life by complicity in this dishonourable act. It was
uglier than a seduction.

Otto had to walk very briskly and whistle very busily; and when at last
he heard steps in the narrowest and darkest of the alleys, it was with a
gush of relief that he sprang to meet the Countess. To wrestle alone
with one's good angel is so hard! and so precious, at the proper time,
is a companion certain to be less virtuous than oneself!

It was a young man who came towards him--a young man of small stature
and a peculiar gait, wearing a wide flapping hat, and carrying, with
great weariness, a heavy bag. Otto recoiled; but the young man held up
his hand by way of signal, and coming up with a panting run, as if with
the last of his endurance, laid the bag upon the ground, threw himself
upon the bench, and disclosed the features of Madame von Rosen.

"You, Countess!" cried the Prince.

"No, no," she panted, "the Count von Rosen--my young brother. A capital
fellow. Let him get his breath."

"Ah, madam ..." said he.

"Call me Count," she returned, "respect my _incognito_."

"Count be it, then," he replied. "And let me implore that gallant
gentleman to set forth at once on our enterprise."

"Sit