“If your father be ruined you will have nothing left to hope for, but I believe the demands of the Danish envoys will not be so exorbitant as all that. You think that I no longer wish to see you; you must know I wish it more than ever, and it will not be good for us to be kept apart much longer—for many reasons, the chief being that should the Danes come into the country—God preserve us!—they might open all letters, and ours also. To avoid that possibility we should have to break off all communication, and without being able to see or write to you my life would not be worth living. So you think your love for me is a great sin, and you believe God punishes you for it. Great heavens! what a thought! Do not get such an idea in your head, for that kind of folly might lead you far from me. You know that our resolves, our inclinations, our wishes are in harmony with the divine laws, and it only depends on Him above to take us away from the life we lead. I vow to Him after that I will sin no more against the sixth commandment, and I will lead a pious life, free from reproach. Make Him also the same vows—perhaps He will hear our prayers. I am longing for that happy consummation, and with what joy I will repent of my sins! Your caresses, your love, your very presence will be all-sufficient to me.” “[HANOVER,] _Tuesday, Two o’clock after midnight_. “Your conduct is not very kind. You appoint a _rendezvous_, and then leave me to freeze to death in the cold, waiting for the signal. You must have known that I was there from 11.30 till 1, waiting in the street. I know not what to think, but I can hardly doubt your inconstancy after having such icy proofs of it. You did not deign to look at me all the evening, you purposely avoided playing cards with me, and you wanted to get rid of me. I will go away quickly enough. Farewell, then. I start to-morrow morning for Hamburg. “[_The next morning._] “Having spent the whole night without sleeping, I have had time to think over my troubles. I determined to go, but then I remembered I once swore to you that I would never go away abruptly, and I want to know before I go the reason of your behaviour. That is why I am still here to-day. I shall not appear at court, for I mortally hate it, and so you will not be able to give me the signal with your eyes; but the other way will let me know if I may come in. I am glad I did not continue my letter last night, for I was in so violent a rage that I should certainly have said some unpleasant things for which I should now be sorry.” “[HANOVER, undated.]