By degrees complete silence reigned in this tranquil corner of Bavaria after the theatre, as is usual in Germany, closed at 10 o'clock. Those who partook of late suppers were few. The calm night enveloped Bad-Elster--a beautiful night with a full moon--one more danger. But I had no choice, and my vigil was soon about to end. The twelve strokes of midnight sounded, then the half-hour, then one o'clock struck, and almost immediately I heard a scratching at my door like that of a mouse. Kiki raised himself ... but with a sign I quieted him, and he understood. I opened the door softly. The shadow of the watchman could be dimly seen in the corridor. "Here I am," I said, in a low whisper. "Silence!... Hold yourself in readiness. I will return when it is time." He went away. I remained for two hours absolutely glued to my door, my valise beside me. At last I saw a glimmer of light. It was the watchman. I turned to my dog, who was watching me uneasily. He pricked up his ears, and, sitting on the corner of a cushion in a chair, he understood that I was going away without him. I caressed him, saying as I did so: "Kiki, don't make a noise. If you do, I am lost!" He did not move, he did not bark, he did not even whine. I was now beside the watchman at the threshold of the door. "You must take off your boots," he whispered. "You will be heard." He stooped down and removed my boots; then, taking charge of my small baggage, he conducted me forth, leaning on his arm. With one last look I said good-bye to the familiar things which I had left in my room, and I again enjoined my good little dog to silence. I went along the corridor into which the rooms of my "lady-in-waiting" and the doctor opened. Thank God, the doors remained closed! Another corridor took us to a staircase by which we gained the ground floor. There, in almost total obscurity, I perceived a shadow, with one finger on its lips. It was the count.... The night watchman would not allow us to delay; he gave me back my boots and guided us, sheltered from the light of the moon by the hotel building, as far as a small conservatory, and then to a terrace which adjoined the road. There two sentries had met and were talking peacefully in the moonlight, which, unfortunately for us, now illuminated the road to safety. We waited anxiously. Luckily they soon separated, and walked away in opposite directions.... The count, taking his chance, made me cross the road in a few light bounds. He held my valise; the night watchman remained hidden on the terrace. We were now under the trees on the other side of the road. The sentries had seen and heard nothing! We had still to reach the carriage, which was waiting a little distance away. This was a landau with two horses, a local equipage, which would pass unnoticed. Any other, unknown to the district, would have been signalled and reported.