But alas! the completion of my hopes was not so easy as I expected. The Countess of Mayenfield was confined not less closely than myself; and our jailor was not to be prevailed on to depart in one single instance from the instructions of his inhuman lord. Yet methinks this man was not cruel by nature. Perhaps, it grieved him to be compelled to treat us with so much harshness; but he made it a point of conscience to adhere in the most punctual manner to the oath, which (as he frequently assured me, in answer to my complaints and reproaches) he had been compelled to give to the Count of Carlsheim. —“You see,” said he, “that where ever it is in my power, I refuse no indulgence. I received no particular command respecting the child’s imprisonment, who was delivered to my custody at the same time with his mother, and therefore I allow him to enjoy all those advantages, from which I am compelled to debar her and yourself. Neither was it forbidden me to furnish the Countess of Mayenfield with such sources of mental amusement, as might beguile her solitary hours. She has a variety of books, has her spinning-wheel and her embroidery frame; if she chuses it, she may lay these aside, and employ herself with her pen; this indulgence, lady, shall also be granted to _you_; and methinks, it must be almost the same thing, whether what you have to say to each other is imparted in writing, or in person.” Here then did our jailor kindly open a door for those communications, for which we had so long thirsted; we returned him our most ardent thanks for the hint, and lost no time in making use of it. We wrote to each other daily; and as the conscientious feelings of this trusty domestic of my tyrant would not allow him to deliver our letters himself, they were confided to the care of the little Ludolf. The lovely boy soon became attached to me; he was ever ready to visit my narrow chamber; and besides the information which Edith’s letters contained, I gleaned from him in conversation many interesting anecdotes, which however serious their subject, frequently assumed so whimsical an appearance through his infantine mode of relating them, that it was impossible either for his mother or myself to refrain from smiling. Heavens! we smiled! little did our tyrant imagine, that in the gloomy walls of Ravenstein Castle his captives would have ever found cause for mirth! Edith’s letters contained explanations of many circumstances, which till then had appeared to me quite unaccountable. These precious memorials of the most sacred friendship are still in my possession. You, my dear children, for whom I write this narrative of my sufferings, will find them after my death, as documents serving to corroborate the veracity of my statements. Oh! how will you blush for your ancestor, when you read that Ethelbert had never been the character, which we (poor deceived ones!) believed him to be, and that from the very beginning his whole conduct had been an artifice!