Notwithstanding the importance of the religious solemnities which were being performed in all the houses of God, and the detestable weather which drove every one from the streets, a man stood motionless before a house in the rue des Tailleurs de Pierres, enveloped in a dark cloak. He remained motionless, feeling neither the wind nor the rain, his eyes fixed on the windows, trying vainly to distinguish the least ray of light. He was young, with effeminate features, and his upper lip was shaded by a light moustache; although he endeavoured to conquer the emotions which agitated him, it was not difficult to discover by the contraction of his brows, that bitter thoughts filled him with despair. The house before which he stood was that of a rich banker named Frügger. After having stood there some time, he lost hope of seeing in this dwelling the wished-for object, and with that, the courage to remain longer exposed to the inclemency of the storm, so he walked slowly away in the direction of the Scheldt. While he was in the neighbourhood of the mansion of Frügger he stopped from time to time and regarded it still with the same ardent anxiety which for more than an hour had characterized his contemplation. When at last the distance and the obscurity prevented him from seeing it, the expression of his countenance became still more sorrowful. Letting his head droop upon his chest, he sighed, "Katharina, thou lovest me no more! Thou hast forgotten me! Thou hast abandoned me! It is foolish for me to doubt it! Oh! now it is finished! I wish no longer to live! Existence becomes a burden to me." At the moment he pronounced these words, expressed with such profound despair, he arrived at the Canal St. Jean, not far from the river. At that time, there stood at this place a water mill. Suddenly the noise of the water pouring over the wheel attracted his attention, and drew him from his somber reverie. He raised his head, his eyes sparkled, the expression of his features became nearly radiant, his steps were firmer, and with a species of cruel joy he directed himself towards the canal. It could not be doubted that the unfortunate young man wished to put an end to his sufferings, which he believed would terminate only with his life. He was already on the banks of the Scheldt. One step farther and he would have disappeared in the waves, when suddenly the bells of the city recommenced their funeral knell. These lugubrious sounds had a singular effect upon his spirit. He recoiled with fright, his thoughts suddenly changed. He was astonished to think he had contemplated committing a crime to put an end to his troubles. He turned away and was soon far from the place where he had so nearly put into execution his fatal project. A quarter of an hour after, he was near the church of St. André, calmer, but still despairing.