"Gracious lady," said he, "cases happen now and then in which one must have patience; such an one is yours. Do not think that I shall for even a moment lose sight of the respect due to so superior a lady. You shall have every comfort, and will have nothing to complain of except perhaps the fright you have suffered this evening." He paused here, as if awaiting an answer; but as Felix made no reply, he continued: "Do not look upon me as a common thief. I am an unfortunate man, whom adverse circumstances have forced into this life. We are desirous of leaving this region forever, but need money for that purpose. It would have been an easy matter for us to fall upon merchants and stages, but thereby we should have brought lasting misfortune on many people. Your husband, the count, inherited half a million thalers not six weeks ago. We ask for twenty thousand guldens of this superabundance; certainly a just and moderate demand. You will, therefore, have the goodness to write a note to the count at once, informing him that we are holding you for a ransom, that he must send the money as quickly as possible, and that unless he does so--you understand me, we should be compelled to treat you with much less consideration. The ransom will not be accepted unless brought by a single man, under a pledge of the strictest secrecy." This scene was viewed with the most anxious interest by all the guests of the inn, but most anxiously of all by the countess. She trembled every moment lest the young man should betray himself. She was firmly resolved to ransom him for a large sum, but just as strong was her resolve not to take a single step with these robbers for any earthly consideration. She had found a knife in the goldsmith's coat pocket. She held it open in her hand, prepared to kill herself rather than suffer such a fate. Not less anxious was Felix himself. To be sure, he was consoled and strengthened by the reflection that it was a manly and praiseworthy act to come to the assistance of a helpless lady as he was doing, but he feared lest he should betray himself by each movement or by his voice. His alarm increased when the robber spoke of his writing a letter. How should he write it? By what title should he address the count? In what style should he write the letter, without betraying himself? But his anxiety rose to the highest pitch, when the robber chief laid paper and pen before him, and requested him to lift his veil and write the letter.