place as musical conductor; this post was already filled.  The Konigsberg director, however, gathering from our correspondence that Minna’s acceptance of the engagement depended upon the possibility of my being taken on at the same theatre, held out the prospect of an approaching vacancy, and expressed his willingness to allow it to be filled by me.  On the strength of this assurance it was decided that Minna should go on to Konigsberg and pave the way for my arrival there.

Ere these plans could be carried out, we had still to spend a time of dreadful and acute anxiety, which I shall never forget, within the walls of Magdeburg.  It is true I made one more personal attempt in Leipzig to improve my position, on which occasion I entered into the transactions mentioned above with the director of the theatre regarding my new opera.  But I soon realised that it was out of the question for me to remain in my native town, and in the disquieting proximity of my family, from which I was restlessly anxious to get away.  My excitability and depression were noticed by my relations.  My mother entreated me, whatever else I might decide to do, on no account to be drawn into marriage while still so young.  To this I made no reply.  When I took my leave, Rosalie accompanied me to the head of the stairs.  I spoke of returning as soon as I had attended to certain important business matters, and wanted to wish her a hurried good-bye:  she grasped my hand, and gazing into my face, exclaimed, “God alone knows when I shall see you again!” This cut me to the heart, and I felt conscience-stricken.  The fact that she was expressing the presentiment she felt of her early death I only realised when, barely two years later, without having seen her again, I received the news that she had died very suddenly.

I spent a few more weeks with Minna in the strictest retirement in Magdeburg:  she endeavoured to the best of her ability to relieve the embarrassment of my position.  In view of our approaching separation, and the length of time we might be parted, I hardly left her side, our only relaxation being the walks we took together round the outskirts of the town.  Anxious forebodings weighed upon us; the May sun which lit the sad streets of Magdeburg, as if in mockery of our forlorn condition, was one day more clouded over than I have ever seen it since, and filled me with a positive dread.  On our way home from one of these walks, as we were approaching the bridge crossing the Elbe, we caught sight of a man flinging himself from it into the water beneath.  We ran to the bank, called for help, and persuaded a miller, whose mill was situated on the river, to hold out a rake to the drowning man, who was being swept in his direction by the current.  With indescribable anxiety we waited for the decisive moment—­saw the sinking man stretch out his hands towards the rake, but he failed to grasp it, and at the same moment disappeared under the mill, never to be seen again.  On the morning that I accompanied Minna to the stage-coach to bid her a most sorrowful farewell, the whole population was pouring from one of the gateways of the town towards a big field, to witness the execution of a man condemned to be put to death on the wheel ‘from below.’