up, he had sunk into the deep and dreamless
sleep of exhaustion.

From that night forth, an atmosphere of
mystery, concealment, and apprehension, seemed to
extend itself over all things. There was a patient
to be cared for, a secret to be kept, a human
being to be secluded from the observation of
even friendly eyes. It was necessary to disguise
the fact of Emile's proximity from his own
father: a deception by no means to my taste,
and galling to the frank and noble nature of
the countess, in whom her invalid husband
reposed the fullest confidence. But the more I
reflected, the more perilous did it seem to afford
Count Emmanuel any information on the subject
of his son's refuge. He was unsuspicious by
instinct and by habit, spoke freely of his affairs
before his domestics, and felt the most perfect
assurance of the devotion and attachment, not
only of his Polish servants, but of Glittstein, the
major-domo, who was, as I have said, a
Courlander.

Of this man the countess entertained
suspicions which I was inclined to treat as the
results of national prejudice. Personally, I was
rather disposed to like the Russo-German, who
was a fine portly fellow, with a shining bald
head fringed with yellow hair, bright blue eyes,
and a pleasant smile. He was an excellent
servant, and his punctual neatness contrasted
favourably with the thoughtlessness of the
Poles. I might have shared the lady's
antipathy, had Glittstein been a velvet-footed, sly-
faced sycophant, gliding cat-like through the
house, but there was something bluff and
downright in the major-domo's speech and
bearing that pleased me.

On the very morning that succeeded the night
of the young man's arrival, a startling incident
occurred. It was a cold moist morning, and the
lazy white fog clung like a ragged veil of half
transparent gauze to meadow and forest, while
the mist hovered in thicker masses over the
many pools and morasses of the low-lying
landscape. The count was unwell and restless,
and ate his breakfast in a desultory fashion: now
listlessly trifling with a morsel of toast, now
rising languidly to gaze out of the window on
the melancholy prospect, and now, as he drew
his elbow-chair nearer to the great stove, desiring
a servant to bring him an exact report of the last
reading of a new barometer from Paris or
London. The master of Miklitz was very curious
in all weather-predicting instruments, and the
hall was full of aneroids and wheel-glasses, whose
French-polished mahogany and burnished brass
seemed out of place among the grim wolf-heads
and spreading antlers, the spears, nets, and
antique weapons.

"A miserable morning, Dr. Burton!" said
Count Emmanuel, pushing away his cup; "the
forerunner of a winter such as you cannot
realise till you have felt it; a winter that nips
and pinches you, chills you and wets you, all at
once. Even St. Petersburg is pleasanter, as
being dryer. Bah! What cruelty of the
government to compel a crippled martyr like
myself, M. le Docteur, to leave dear beautiful
Italy, with a sun that really shines—Eh?
Adeline, what is amiss?"

The countess had started from her chair, and
stood listening eagerly to some faint sound
which no ear, unsharpened by strong emotion,
could have detected. My senses are tolerably
quick, but I could hear nothing. A minute
passed, and I thought I heard something like a
dull far-off beat of horses' feet.

"Soldiers! They have come to seek him!
He is lost!" murmured the poor mother, but
in so low a tone that the rash words were heard
by none but myself—unless, indeed, Glittstein,
who was handing some cordial to his master,
had caught them.

In a few moments all doubts were set at rest
by the arrival of a commissary of police,
accompanied by several agents and a party of
dragoons, to search the castle for the
apprehension of Emile Oginski, political offender,
and deserter from the regiment of Astrakhan.
Very particular orders to secure the person
of this young man had arrived by telegraph
from St. Petersburg, and no retreat
appeared so likely to shelter him as his father's
house.

Two hours, two long and painful hours, were
consumed in a minute search of the extensive
mansion, which was rummaged from the garret
and turret-chambers to the cellars. The servants
were rigorously cross-examined, and the official
in command entered into an artfully managed
conversation with the count, whose easy
disposition was well known, insomuch that the
authorities felt assured of being able to worm out
the truth from him. But the count knew nothing,
and the astonishment with which he heard
of his unfortunate son's flight was too genuine
to be mistaken by so practised an observer as
the commissary. The servants also, being wholly
ignorant of their young lord's return, could not
possibly betray him, either by awkward zeal or
venal perfidy; and the police were at last fain
to believe that no person of the household had
the slightest idea that the fugitive had even
committed the offence of desertion. Fortunately
the countess was asked no questions, nor was it
thought worth while to examine myself, a
foreigner newly arrived. The out-buildings
underwent no scrutiny, for the agents were
convinced, long before the mansion was explored,
that no one had seen the runaway, and that
without having been seen he could not be
here.

"He never got out of the forest of Pylclovicz,
where he was last seen by a charcoal-burner,"
said the commissary in a testy manner, as he
took his leave. "I told our lord the governor
that mortal limbs could not have borne such a
journey as that from the wood hither. And
now, perhaps, some booby of a village headman
will get the reward after all."

The police and troops went off in a crestfallen
style, like foxes baffled in an inroad on a poultry-
yard, and the servants, male and female, watched
them as they rode down the avenue, and followed