of Wilhelmina's affection; for, as the reader will easily imagine,
she never dreamed of viewing Ferdinand in that odious perspective. In
order to satisfy her curiosity, discover this happy favourite, and be
revenged on her petulant rival, she prevailed upon the jeweller to employ
a scout, who should watch all night upon the stair, without the knowledge
of any other person in the family, alleging, that in all likelihood, the
housemaid gave private admittance to some lover who was the author of all
the losses they had lately suffered, and that they might possibly detect
him in his nocturnal adventures; and observing that it would be imprudent
to intimate their design to Wilhelmina, lest, through the heedlessness
and indiscretion of youth, she might chance to divulge the secret, so as
to frustrate their aim.
A Swiss, in whose honesty the German could confide, being hired for this
purpose, was posted in a dark corner of the staircase, within a few paces
of the door, which he was directed to watch, and actually stood sentinel
three nights, without perceiving the least object of suspicion; but, on
the fourth, the evil stars of our adventurer conducted him to the spot,
on his voyage to the apartment of his Dulcinea, with whom he had
preconcerted the assignation. Having made the signal, which consisted of
two gentle taps on her door, he was immediately admitted; and the Swiss
no sooner saw him fairly housed, than he crept softly to the other door,
that was left open for the purpose, and gave immediate intimation of what
he had perceived. This intelligence, however, he could not convey so
secretly, but the lovers, who were always vigilant upon these occasions,
overheard a sort of commotion in the jeweller's chamber, the cause of
which their apprehension was ingenious enough to comprehend.
We have formerly observed that our adventurer could not make his retreat
by the door, without running a very great risk of being detected, and the
expedient of the chimney he had no inclination to repeat; so that he
found himself in a very uncomfortable dilemma, and was utterly abandoned
by all his invention and address, when his mistress, in a whisper,
desired him to begin a dialogue, aloud, in an apology, importing, that he
had mistaken the door, and that his intention was to visit her father,
touching a ring belonging to the young Count Melvil, which she knew
Fathom had put into his hands, in order to be altered.
Ferdinand, seizing th
|