In the mean while, Henry on opening his eyes cast his first glances eagerly towards the spot, where he fancied, that the spirits of Tell’s grand-daughters had appeared to him; they were no longer to be seen. He was now confirmed in his visionary notions, and implicitly believed, that he had really seen an apparition.—He inquired for Elizabeth: the answer was, that she had quitted the chapel evidently in displeasure; very little reflection was necessary to make him aware, that the singular part which he had just been playing, made it necessary for him to hasten to his bride without delay, and explain the cause of his mysterious behaviour. While approaching her chamber, he considered with himself, whether it would, or would not, be adviseable to inform her of the vision, which had just appeared to him, and to lay open to her the secret history of his early life! His deliberations, however, were quite superfluous; for he was denied admittance to Elizabeth with no less positiveness and contempt, than had been shown on Constantia’s application. He felt, that Elizabeth had some reason to think herself insulted; and instead of repaying her scorn with scorn, he lost no time in justifying himself in the eyes of his offended mistress.—A personal interview was denied him; the explanation therefore could only be conveyed in writing; but Henry was not sufficiently an adept in penmanship to permit his finishing so long an apology with as much expedition, as the nature of the case made desirable. He resolved therefore to employ a secretary; and as upon inquiry no ready writer was to be found in the whole Castle except the family Chaplain (whom I have already mentioned as the secret ally of Father Hilarius, and as being entirely in the Count of Torrenburg’s interests) he requested his assistance. He might have chosen from among a thousand, and yet could not have confided his affairs to a more improper instrument. However, Henry dictated, and the Friar wrote as follows. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _Henry to Elizabeth._ You are offended, my beloved!—Nay, even to myself it scarcely appears credible, that when I stood with you before the altar, I should have withdrawn my hand from yours; that I should have hesitated to pronounce the words, which would have made you mine for ever; that when you looked upon me with eyes of love, I could have looked on any other than on _you_.—No; this never could have happened by natural means; the enemies of our love must have employed infernal arts to delude my senses and interrupt my happiness!—What past this evening in the Chapel must certainly have been produced by magic; no otherwise can I account for it!