. Then there
are no difficulties. Only say 'Yes'--but definitely, unambiguously, of
your own free will--and I answer for the rest."

The thought of Janko resurged painfully when his giant's will was left
behind on the heights. How ill she would be using him--her pretty
delicate boy!

The giant's will left behind her? Never had Helene been more mistaken.
The very reverse! It went before her all day like a pillar of fire. At
the first stopping-place a letter already awaited her, brought by a
swift courier; lower down a telegram; as she got off her horse another
letter; at her hotel two copious telegrams; as she stepped on board
the lake steamer a final letter--all breathing passion,
encouragement, solicitous instructions to wrap up well.

Wrap up well! He wrapped one up in himself!

Half fascinated, half panting for free air, but wholly flattered and
enamoured, she wrote at once to break off with Janko and surrender to
her Satanic Ferdinand.

"Yes, friend Satan, the child _wills_! A drop of your diabolical blood
has passed into her veins. I am yours for life. But first try
reasonable means. Make my parents' acquaintance, cover up your horns
and tail, try and win me like a bourgeois. If that fails, there is
always Egypt. But quick, quick: I cannot bear scenes and delays and
comments. Once we are married, let society stare. With you to lean on
I snap my fingers at the world. The obstacles are gigantic, but you
are also a giant, who with God's help smashes rocks to sand, that even
my breath can blow away. I must stab the beautiful dream of a noble
youth, but even this--frightfully painful for me as it is--I do for
you. I say nothing of the disappointment to my parents, of the pain of
all I love and respect. I am writing to Holthoff, my father-confessor.
We must have him for us, with us, near us. God has destined us for
each other."

A telegram replied: "Bravissimo! I am on my way to join you."

And to the Countess, fighting rheumatism at the waters of Wildbad in
the Black Forest, he wrote: "The rain has passed, the long fog has
gone. The mountains stand out mighty and dazzling, peak beyond peak,
like the heights of a life. What a sunset! The Eiger seemed wrapped in
a vapor of burning gold. My sufferings are nearly all wiped out. I am
joyous, full of life and love. And I have also finished at last with
that terrible correspondence for the Union. Seventy-six pages of
minute writing have I sent to Berlin yesterday and