was to find her gone and the house of her fathers a wilderness!—­to know, alas! that she is poor, and, perhaps, languishing in want!—­to know that my noble-hearted and beloved Lenora sinks under the weight of misfortune, and yet to be able to do nothing to relieve her!—­to be condemned to count in powerless despair her days of affliction, and not even to be sure that suffering has not killed her!”

A profound silence followed this complaining outburst, and the peasant-woman, with her head bent to the earth, sympathized with him truly, till, after a few moments, she attempted to console the sufferer in her simple way:—­

“Oh, sir, I understand only too well how much you endure!  And yet why despair?  Who knows but we may receive some news of our dear young lady when we least expect it?  God is good; he will hear our prayers; and our joy for her return will make us forget all our grief!”

“Oh that your prophecy might be realized, my good woman!  But seven months have already gone since they departed.  During three of them a hundred persons have been employed in seeking the wanderers.  They have been sought for in every direction, and not the slightest intelligence has been obtained; not a trace, not the least sign that they are even alive!  My reason tells me not to despair; but my heart magnifies my ills and cries aloud that I have lost her!—­lost her forever!”

He was about quitting the garden, when a noise attracted his attention as he pointed toward the road leading to the chateau.

“Listen!  Don’t you hear something?” cried he.

“It is the gallop of a horse,” answered Bess, without comprehending why the noise so much startled her master.

“Poor fool!” said the young man to himself; “why am I so startled by the passing of a horseman?”

“But see! see! he is coming into the avenue!” cried Bess, with increasing interest.  “Oh, God!  I am sure it is a messenger with news!  Heaven grant it may be good!”

As she said this the rider passed through the gate at full gallop, and, drawing rein at the door they had just reached, took a letter from his pocket and handed it to the master of Grinselhof:—­

“I come,” said he, “from your notary, who ordered me to deliver you this letter without a moment’s delay.”

Gustave broke the seal with a trembling hand, while Bess, smiling with hope, followed all her master’s movements with staring eyes.

As he read the first lines the anxious youth grew pale; but as he went on a tremor ran through all his limbs, till with a hysterical laugh and clasped hands he exclaimed,—­

“Thanks! thanks!  Oh, God! she is restored to me!”

“Oh, sir, sir,” cried Bess, “is it good news?”

“Yes! yes! rejoice with me!  Lenora lives!  I know where she is!” answered Gustave, half mad with delight, running into the house and calling all the servants.  “Quick! quick!  Have out the travelling-carriage and the English horses!  My trunk! my cloak!  Quick! fly!”