"Sebastian was much alarmed, and immediately came to me with accounts of what had happened below. I summoned the brethren around me, and went to inquire into the matter. The stranger seemed to have fainted, whereupon we lifted him up, and brought him into the refectorium. In spite of the horribly disfigured countenance of the man, we still thought that we could recognize your features. Indeed, several were of opinion that it was the change of dress, more than any other circumstance, which made a difference. The stranger had a long beard, like a monk, and wore a lay-habit, now much torn and destroyed, but which had at first been very handsome. He had silk stockings, a gold buckle still on one of his shoes, a white satin waistcoat----" "A chesnut-coloured coat," interrupted I, "of the finest cloth; richly embroidered linen, and a plain gold ring upon his finger." "Precisely so," said Leonardus; "but, in God's name, how could you know these particulars?" Alas! it was the identical dress which I had worn on that fatal day of my marriage in the _residenz_. My horrible double again stood vividly before mine eyes. It was no longer the mere phantom of my own disturbed brain that had seemed to follow me through the woods, but the real and substantial madman, or demon, by whom my strength had been overpowered, and who had at last robbed me of my clothes, in order to represent me in this manner at the convent. I begged of Leonardus, that, before asking any other questions, he would proceed with his narrative, from which, perhaps, a perfect explanation of the mysteries in which I had been involved would at last dawn upon me. "After a trial of several days," said Leonardus, "we began to perceive that the man was utterly and incurably mad; and, notwithstanding that his features resembled yours very closely, and he incessantly cried out, 'I am Medardus, and have come home to do penance among you,' we all concluded that this was but an obstinately fixed delusion of the maniac. "To this change of opinion we were led by divers proofs. For example, we brought him into the church; where, as he endeavoured to imitate us in the usual devotional exercises, we perceived plainly that he had never before been in a convent. The question then always gained more and more influence over my mind--'What if this madman, who has, according to his own account, fled from the _residenz_ of Rosenthurm, and escaped the punishment of the scaffold, were actually the Count Victorin?'