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 down beside me here,' she returned, patting the further corner of
the bench. 'I will follow you