“There is much nobleness in him, spite of his vagaries. He will sow his wild oats and make a grand man in time. By the by, if we are going to the fortress, we must be off. Give Sigismund the word; he is dining at the other table with Power,” said the gay voice. “Take a look at the pretty English girl as you go by; it will do your eyes good, after the fat Frauleins we have seen of late,” added the rough one. Three gentlemen rose, and as they passed Amy stole a glance at them; but seeing several pairs of eyes fixed on herself, she turned away blushing, with the not unpleasant consciousness that “the pretty English girl” was herself. Longing to see which Sigismund was, she ventured to look after the young men, who paused behind the man with the blond beard, and also touched the dark-eyed gentleman on the shoulder. All five went down the hall and stood talking near the door. “Uncle, I wish to go,” said Amy, whose will was law to the amiable major. Up he rose, and Amy added, as she took his arm, “I’m seized with a longing to go to Baden-Baden and see a little gambling. You are not a wild young man, so you can be trusted there.” “I hope so. Now you are a sensible little woman, and we’ll do our best to have a gay time. Wait an instant till I get my hat.” While the major searched for the missing article the girls went on, and coming to the door, Amy tried to open it. The unwieldy foreign lock resisted her efforts, and she was just giving it an impatient little shake, when a voice said behind her,— “Permit me, mademoiselle;” at the same moment a handsome hand turned the latch, the flash of a diamond shone before her, and the door opened. “_Merci, monsieur_,” she murmured, turning as she went out; but Helen was close behind her, and no one else to be seen except the massive major in the rear. “Did you see the baron?” she whispered eagerly, as they went up-stairs. “No; where was he?” “He opened the door for me. I knew him by his hand and ring. He was close to you.” “I did not observe him, being busy gathering up my dress. I thought the person was a waiter, and never looked at him,” said Helen, with provoking indifference. “How unfortunate! Uncle, you are going to see the fortress; we don’t care for it; but I want you to take these gloves and inquire for Baron Sigismund Palsdorf. He will be there with a party of gentlemen. You can easily manage it, men are so free and easy. Mind what he is like, and come home in time to tell me all about it.” Away went the major, and the cousins sat on the balcony enjoying the lovely night, admiring the picturesque scene, and indulging in the flights of fancy all girls love, for Helen, in spite of her three-and-twenty years, was as romantic as Amy at eighteen. It was past eleven when the major came, and the only greeting he received was the breathless question,— “Did you find him?”