proving false to his principles? He had seen through the game at the right moment, however,--the suspicion that had been aroused on the road to Hohenwald now became a certainty, and what he had written to his friend was the truth. Yes, he now felt an invincible repugnance to any closer intercourse with this intriguing stranger, who had selected Castle Hohenwald as the theatre for her schemes. The letter should be despatched just as it was. He folded and sealed it, and then betook himself to rest. The day's exertions had wearied him, and he soon slept, but the image of the lovely stranger mingled in his dreams. The stranger herself stood at the window of the room to which Celia had shown her, and gazed out into the gloomy night; she heard the howling of the wind and the beating of the rain against the panes, but she did not heed them, for before her mind's eye rose a form that made her oblivious of the present. She shuddered as she looked back to that last terrible night spent beneath the same roof with the wretch who would have bartered his wife's honour for a release from poverty and detection. She had clung to him faithfully, had always conscientiously fulfilled her duty to him, hoping that she might perhaps in the end influence him for good. She had forgiven him for squandering her property, for plunging her into poverty, although she no longer loved him, and was bound to him only by a sense of duty; but that he could so dishonour her as actually to wish to sell her to the Russian was a sin never to be forgiven,--it separated her from him forever. He had spoken the decisive word himself, he had restored to her her freedom, lured by false hopes perhaps, but he had done so unconditionally, and she was now her own mistress; she no longer felt the chains that had bound her to her wretched husband; they might exist for the world, but no longer for herself, for her own conscience. When on that dreadful night she had bolted herself into her bedroom, her resolution was already taken. Without hesitation she proceeded to carry it out. She exchanged her ball-dress for a simple stuff gown; she packed a few necessary articles of clothing in a travelling-bag, and hastily wrote these lines: "You have given back to me my freedom; I accept it. It is your desire that we should part; it shall be fulfilled: you will never see me again. Should you dare to persecute me, you will force me to denounce you publicly and to give to the world the reasons that justify my conduct. The detected thief, who would barter his wife's honour, has forfeited the right to control her destiny.--LUCIE." Her hand did not tremble as she wrote these words. She folded the sheet, sealed it and placed it where its address could be plainly seen by any one entering the room.