Helen, who had been compelled to assent to this unhallowed union at the Castle of Upper Halbstein, was now ordered to follow her unamiable Lord to another of his fortresses situated southwards among the Rhœtian Alps. She received the command with joy, for at the Castle of Sargans she hoped at least to receive the consolations of friendship. Her step-daughters had been the play-fellows of Helen’s childhood during several weeks; and since their separation occasional letters and messages conveyed by third persons had frequently assured her, that she still lived in the remembrances of her early friends. In their embraces she hoped to find some alleviation of her sufferings: she flattered herself also, that the station which she was now to fill in their house, would give her frequent opportunities of making the situation of the poor girls more happy than it had been hitherto; and this reflexion prevented her from feeling herself quite miserable. Cruel fate decreed, that her journey, which was made in company with her husband and under the protection of a numerous retinue, should be interrupted by the arrival of the Count of Torrenburg and his forces. It was now, that for the first time she saw the bridegroom, whom fortune had destined never to be hers; for whose character she had ever been taught to entertain the highest admiration; and whose sight (for oh! there never yet was man more formed to captivate the soul of woman) was sufficient to make her feel, how near her happiness had been, and how completely it was now lost to her for ever. Torrenburg’s valour forced Count Donat to seek his safety in flight, and the trembling Helen was brought before the conqueror. Helen (who believed herself to be no less dear to her destined bridegroom, than He was dear to Her) for a few moments forgot her duty; but melancholy reflexion soon made her tear herself away from the embraces of the beloved warrior, and she commanded him to leave her. —“My rescue comes too late!” she exclaimed, wringing her hands in agony; “I am Count Donat’s wife, and must remain so, though it should break my heart! Oh! Eginhart, restore me to my husband, and forget the unfortunate, whom fate has separated from you for ever.”— Tears stood glittering in the warrior’s eyes. He advanced, as if he would have detained her, but she peremptorily forbade his nearer approach. She hastened to her palfrey, and giving the reins to the animal, she soon reached the valley, whither Donat and his vassals had directed their flight. Helen’s conduct on this occasion, which might well have been termed a difficult effort, if virtue and duty did not make every effort easy, was rewarded by her stern husband with coldness, with sarcasms, with reproaches. She arrived at Sargans; and here was Helen destined to find the disappointment of her last poor promised pleasure, the society of her two friends.