And he would have let her go; but the thoughts of Zedwitz’s raillery made him resolute. His first thought was to carry her off; but that appearing too strong a measure, he contented himself with holding her hand fast while pouring forth a volley of reproaches. “And now,” he concluded with an affectation of reasoning, “now that you are so far, why retreat? Everyone is in bed; no human being in the cloisters. I ask but five minutes, but I would speak with you alone—unrestrained.” And while he was speaking he had contrived to make her move along the passage. A moment after, they had reached the quadrangle, and stood in silent admiration of the calm seclusion of the spot. The echo of their footsteps was the only sound they heard; and the bright moonbeams not only lighted the monuments erected against the wall, but rendered almost legible the epitaphs of those whose tombstones composed the pavement. He led Crescenz to a seat near the monument to the founder of the monastery, Count Aribo, and waited for her to speak; she had, however, no inclination to begin, but sat in a deep revery, looking fixedly on the ground; and, as it seemed, more inclined to be sentimental than communicative. Hamilton, more conscious than she was of the impropriety of her situation, and fearing that they might be seen by some of the servants, at length exclaimed, with some impatience: “Do not let us lose these precious moments, but tell me at once what has occurred.” Crescenz became agitated, covered her face with her hands, but remained silent. “For heaven’s sake tell me what is the matter?” “I am very, very unhappy!” sobbed the poor girl. “But why—why are you unhappy?” “Because I—I am going to be married!” “Married!—To whom are you going to be married?” “To—to Major Stultz.” “Major Stultz!—Why, this must be a very sudden business, indeed. Before I left Seon he seemed much more inclined to marry your sister than you!” “Oh, of course he would rather have Hildegarde, because she is so much cleverer and handsomer than I am; but she would not listen to him, and called him an old fool!” “I admire her candour,” said Hamilton. “And then she got into a passion when he persevered, and slapped him on the mouth!” “Slapped him on the mouth!” “Yes, when he attempted to kiss her hand; at least he says so; and Hildegarde thinks it may be true, as she was angry and struggled very hard to release her hand. He told mamma that he would not marry her now if she were ten times handsomer, and a princess into the bargain!” “She seems of rather a passionate temperament.” “Passionate! yes, she sometimes gets into a passion, but it is soon over, and then she can be so kind to those she loves! No one knows her so well as I do, excepting, perhaps, papa, and he says, if she were not passionate, she would be faultless; with me she is never in a passion.”