Aminta at once became silent, and sitting in an arm-chair near the window, appeared to sleep soundly, for the noise of her breathing was alone heard. Maulear, erect, motionless, with an icy brow, neither saw nor heard. A thousand confused ideas filled his mind. A revelation, strange and unforeseen, put an end to his suffering and dissipated his fears, by exhibiting the incomprehensible mystery under which he had been. Aminta was sleeping. Her sleep was of that somnambulist character, so common in this country of moral and physical excitement. While dreaming, Aminta had told and taught him every thing. She was innocent and pure. Yet in doubt, hesitating as the victim does, who when he marches to punishment receives a pardon, wishing to convince himself of the reality of all that passed, he went into the next room and came out with the light. Directing the rays obliquely so that they fell on the downcast lids of Aminta, he placed the lamp at some distance from her, and saw what till then no man had ever seen. He saw this beautiful creature in a night _neglige_, enveloped by clouds of white drapery, which a troubled sleep had gracefully disarranged. He saw a charming childlike foot half out of the slipper, glistening silvery in the light. A prey at once to the greatest agitation and repentance at having suspected her, Maulear fell on his knees. The motion thus made or some other circumstance aroused her. "Where am I?" said she, looking uncertainly around her; seeing Maulear at her feet, she continued: "A man here--with me--in my room--" She sought to rise, but being yet under the influence of the half sleep, sank again on her chair. "Be silent, Signorina!" said Maulear, in a low tone. "You! you! Signor," said Aminta, recognizing him and drawing back with terror. "You at my feet, at night, for all is dark around us, and the light is burning. But where am I? this room--it is the one in which I promised Gaetano to place the light." Passing her hand across her brow, to collect her ideas and wipe away her doubts, she said: "But this is not my room. I occupy one next to my mother.... Ah, I remember; it was mine once, but it was given to the Marquis, to you," said she, blushing. She arose. "And this night-dress," said she, looking at her disordered toilette, "in your presence--Signor," added she, clasping her hands, "by your honor, I beseech you, tell me how I came hither." "When you slept," said the Marquis, seeking to calm her. "As I slept?" repeated the young girl, "as I dreamed.--Ah, I see, this sleep, this waking sleep to which I am often liable. Ah! mother, mother, why did you not watch me?" Concealing her face in her hands, she began to shed tears. "Of what, Signorina, are you afraid? You are under the protection of my faith, honor, and love." "Signor, I am lost if any one finds me here. Let me return," said she, attempting to go.