She trembled violently, but endeavoured to walk. The figure, however, seemed to possess the power of fascination—she would or could not remove her eyes from it; and though Hamilton assured her he remembered having seen it by daylight, and at first really thought so, he was soon unpleasantly convinced of his error. They saw the outline more and more distinctly every moment—could even distinguish the large folds of the drapery in the moonlight. Hamilton tried to hurry her forward; but at that moment the figure, slowly and stiffly raising an arm, pointed threateningly towards them. This was the _acme_. Crescenz clung to him in an agony of terror, and while Hamilton whispered to her, “For heaven’s sake, not to scream—to think of the consequences were she to be discovered,” she writhed as if in strong convulsions, gasped frightfully once or twice for breath, and then sank on his arm perfectly insensible. Shocked beyond measure, but now convinced that someone had been amusing himself at their expense, Hamilton called out angrily, “Cease your mummeries, whoever you are—and see what you have done!” The moonlight fell on Crescenz’s lifeless form while he spoke, and in a moment Count Zedwitz stood beside him. He endeavoured to exculpate himself by avowing that he had no idea of playing ghost when he had followed them. “I don’t care what you intended,” cried Hamilton, still more angrily; “but I wish, at least, you had spared this poor girl such unnecessary terror.” “I did not think of the consequences. It was very foolish—it was very wrong, if you will. But you must not think I was a listener; I declare most solemnly I did not hear one word of your conversation.” “The whole world might have heard it!” cried Hamilton, impatiently shaking off the hand which Zedwitz had placed on his shoulder; “the whole world might have heard it. But what is to be done now? She shows no sign of life, and is as cold as a stone. Perhaps you have killed her!” “Oh, no, she has only fainted; let me go for a glass of water.” “Are you mad?” cried Hamilton, detaining him forcibly; “no one must ever know that she has been here with me—with us——” “Oh, I thought I could——” “I wish you would think rationally, and repair the mischief you have done.” “Let us take her to her sister; she will never betray her, and will know best what means to employ for her recovery.” And between them they carried Crescenz along the passage and up the stairs. Fortunately, the first door led to her room, and Hamilton desired Zedwitz to knock gently, lest other people in the neighbouring rooms might be awakened. But it was in vain he knocked; Hildegarde seemed to be enjoying what is called a “wholesome sleep”; and at length, finding their efforts fruitless, Zedwitz volunteered to go in and waken her.