The Daughter of an Empress

"You will, then, leave me?" cried the young maiden, turning pale and

anxiously grasping the count's arm. "No, Paulo, you cannot do that!

Would you leave me because I, a foolish child, desired to go to this

festival, and was no longer contented with our dear and beautiful

solitude? That was wrong in me, Paulo, as I now plainly see, and I

desire it no longer! Oh, we will prepare other pleasures for ourselves

here in our delightful paradise. You have often called me a poetess,

and I will now believe I am, and no longer wish to see another. I will

suffice for myself! Come, I will immediately sing you a song, a festival

song, my friend!"

And taking her guitar, Natalie struck some joyous accords; but Count

Paulo lightly laid his hands upon the strings so as to silence them, and

drawing the tips of her fingers to his lips, with a slight shaking of

his head, he said: "Not now, my charming poetess, I am not worthy of

hearing you."

"And it is late," added Cecil, coming as it were to the aid of his

master.

The count rose. "Yes, you are right--it is late," said he, "and I must

not longer keep Natalie from her slumber. Come, my sweet child, you must

retire; you must sleep, that your brow may beam with blooming freshness

to-morrow!"

Natalie made no answer; with a light sigh she mechanically took the

count's offered arm.

Cecil preceded them with the lantern in his hand. Thus they proceeded up

the alley leading to the villa, all three silent and thoughtful. The sky

had become obscured, a black cloud intercepted the light of the moon,

and Natalie's charmed garden was suddenly wrapped in gloom.

A cold shudder ran through her delicate frame.

"A feeling of anxiety has come over me!" she whispered, clinging close

to the count's side.

"Poor child!" said the count. "Are you already oppressed with fear?"

"What if the wall should give way, and bad people should intrude into

our garden! Ah, Marianne says that misfortune lurks everywhere in the

world, lying in ambush for those who think themselves safe, destroying

their happiness, and making them wholly miserable; and people only laugh

and rejoice that another man's hopes have been wrecked! Ah, and I

have felt so secure in my happiness! If misfortune should now actually

come--if these walls should prove not high enough to keep it off! Ah,

Paulo, protect me from lurking misfortune!"

They had now arrived at the door of the villa. Paulo pressed the

trembling young maiden with paternal tenderness to his breast, and,

lightly touching her forehead with his lips, he said: "Good-night, my

love! Sleep gently, and be not anxious! So long as I live, misfortune

shall never approach you! Rest assured of that!"