At one of those intoxicating court festivals with which the king sought to stupify himself and those about him, Alf was standing to take breath after a brisk dance, with his hands behind him, when suddenly he felt a warm soft pressure of his right hand, a piece of paper being simultaneously slipped into it, and a moment afterwards the first queen stepped forward from behind him, giving him a significant glance as she passed. He left the room immediately, and by the nearest lamp in the corridor read the following words:-- 'An hour after midnight, in the upper passage on the left; the first door.' Hastening back to the dancing-hall, his glowing cheeks and triumphant carriage immediately betrayed to the beauteous syren, that he had read and comprehended her billet. Meanwhile the midnight hour struck. Gertrude was suddenly attacked by a headache and suffered her attendants to lead her to her chamber. The king smilingly whispered a word to Eliza, which caused a flush to pass over her cheeks, and which she answered with downcast eyes. The assembly gradually departed, and Alf, lost in pleasing dreams, proceeded to his dwelling. He found the devoted little Clara yet patiently waiting for him, occupying herself at the spinning wheel; her now constantly bright eyes a little dimmed; but whether from late watching, or weeping, or from both together, he could not exactly decide. 'I began to think you were not coming home tonight,' said the maiden in a friendly tone, which yet had something of sadness in it. 'The dancing to-night continued unusually late,' replied Alf; casting a glance at the mirror, and coming to the conclusion that he was right worthy of the beauteous queen, he proudly pressed his richly plumed cap over his eyes. Meanwhile Clara had lighted his chamber lamp and handed it to him. 'I am going out again immediately, dear Clara,' said Alf, with some little embarrassment. 'I came merely to tell you, that you might not sit up all night waiting for me.' 'You are going out again?' asked Clara, looking intently at him. 'This is not your time for guard duty.' 'The feast of to-day has disturbed all our arrangements,' stammered Alf with embarrassment. 'I must actually go to the palace once more to-night.' Clara seized his hand with both of hers, and with her mild honest eyes gave him a piercing look. His guilty conscience deprived him of the power to meet her gaze. 'Kippenbrock,' cried she, suddenly alarmed, 'are you not going for some wicked purpose?' 'You are already dreaming, from having watched so long, my child. Go to bed, pretty one,' said Alf, bending down to kiss the maiden as he wished her good night; a friendly habit in which he had for some time indulged. But Clara avoided his embrace, saying earnestly to him, 'not this evening, dear Kippenbrock, all is not as it should be.'