She still stood erect, and he watched her in painful suspense. The distant steeples became still more distinct; there was a second roar of artillery from the accompanying yachts,--a third,--the harbor opened before Ottilie's eyes, and now began the thunder of a hundred guns, while the ringing of bells floated athwart them in majestic waves of sound. The boats fell back with a repeated cheer, and the steamers slowly entered the harbor. The rigging of the ships that lay at anchor was filled with sailors, who waved their hats and shouted a wild "hurrah!" A countless throng of people on the edge of the harbor, at the windows, and on the roofs of the houses, which were gayly adorned with flowers and tapestry, sent forth their shouts of welcome to Ottilie, amid the thunder of cannon and the ringing of bells. Everything swam before her eyes. The impression was too powerful; all this produced too violent an emotion in her oppressed heart. Yonder stood a group of gentlemen, the foremost must be the prince just ready to enter the boat which was to bear him to the ship; a mist gathered before her eyes, her heart stopped beating, the blood flowed coldly through her veins: she laid her damp, icy hand upon the shoulder of the mistress of ceremonies, and tottered. _Heinrich_ caught her by the arm, and both carried her down into the cabin, where she sank back utterly unconscious. "I thought so," muttered _Heinrich_, and went up to receive the prince, and if possible detain him. The mistress of ceremonies knew not what to do, and called the lady's maid. Röschen appeared and applied the usual restoratives. Ottilie breathed faintly, but was unable to raise her head. "The prince is on board," said a chamberlain. "Oh, God!" moaned Ottilie; and again she trembled violently. "Will not your Highness try to rise?" pleaded the mistress of ceremonies, in the greatest anxiety; for the prince might now enter at any moment. Röschen caught her in her arms, the door was thrown open, and "his Highness" was announced. One last violent effort, and Ottilie stood erect. The mistress of ceremonies withdrew with Röschen. The prince entered. Ottilie bowed with her usual stately grace. The prince's eyes rested with surprise and pleasure upon the beautiful, although pallid, face. The aroma of aristocracy which surrounded her was wonderfully pleasing to the man of forms. "Allow me to express to your Highness my most heartfelt gratitude for the confidence with which you intrust your future to me, a stranger; and receive the assurance that I shall hold so precious a gift as sacred, and know how to guard it."