He shook his head and rushed out. No, not in that narrow, close room, not in the neighborhood of that tiresome chambermaid could be read the letter of his beloved--that letter which he believed, nay, knew, contained the last decision for sealing his whole future fate. In the open air, under God's blue sky, in the warm and radiant autumn sun, would he receive the message of his beloved, would he take to his heart what the angel of his life had to communicate to him. As rapidly as he had stormed up he again sprang down the steps, and through the well-known rooms and corridors took the way leading to the park. He was well acquainted with it, for he had often taken it at the side of his aunt, the unfortunate Bohemian Queen and Electress, who had found a refuge here in Holland at the court of her uncle, the Stadtholder Frederick Henry of Orange, and had her little residence at Castle Doornward. He had often walked it with the princesses, her daughters, and very bright and pleasant hours had he passed in that beautiful park with Princess Ludovicka. On one of those squares, in one of those shady thickets where he had so often sat with her and her sisters, he would now read her message. With hasty step, with glowing cheeks fired by enthusiasm, with head aloft, he strode on, and now entered the woods near the path. They were curtained by festoons of wild grapevine; no one could see how he now took out the little note which he had so long concealed in his hand, how he pressed it to his lips, to his eyes, how he then unfolded it, and again, before reading it, pressed the beloved characters to his lips. The letter contained nothing but the words: "The friends are ready and willing. To-night about one o'clock in the Media Nocte. From there flight. A worthy asylum is waiting, and the priest stands before the altar to bless the couple." "To-night she will be mine--to-night we shall be married! To-night we shall make our escape!"