"My God! your story is so diabolical that I begin to forget where I am, and lose my senses as I listen to you. But, go on; all this may be explained, certainly?"
"No, madame. The fantastic world which Albert and Zdenko bore in their souls has never been explained to me; and, like myself, you must be satisfied merely with a knowledge of the results."
"Then the count at least did not kill the poor buffoon?"
"Zdenko to him was not a buffoon, but a friend and companion of misfortune, a devoted servant. He was grieved at his conduct, but, thank God! never dreamed of immolating him to me. Yet I was so foolish and so guilty as to think this murder had been completed. A grave recently opened in the cavern, and which Albert confessed contained the dearest thing he had ever known, until he met me, at that time when he accused himself of I know not what crime, chilled me to the heart. I felt certain that Zdenko was buried there, and fled from the grotto crying and weeping like a child!"
"You had reason to do so," said the Baroness Von Kleist, "and I am sure such things would have terrified me to death. A lover like Albert would not have suited me at all. The good Baron Von Kleist believed in, and used to make sacrifices to the devil. That made me a coward, and had I not been divorced, I think I would have gone mad."
"You have much consolation left you. I think you were divorced a little too late," said the princess; "but do not interrupt the Countess of Rudolstadt."
"When I returned to the castle with Albert, who had not dreamed of defending himself from my suspicions, whom think you I found there?"
"He presented himself as my brother, and waited for me. I do not know how he had learned _en route_ that I was living there, and was to marry Albert. But it was talked of in the country long before anything was determined. Whether from mortification, a remnant of love, or the love of evil, he had suddenly returned with the intention of breaking off this marriage. He did all he could to succeed, using prayers, tears, persuasion, and threats. Apparently I was unmoved, but in my coward heart I was troubled, and I felt I was no longer mistress of myself. By means of the falsehood by which he had obtained admission, and which I did not dare to contradict, though I had never spoken to Albert of this brother, he remained all day at the castle. The old count made us at night sing Venetian airs. These melodies of my adopted country awoke all the recollections of my infancy, of my fine dreams, pure love, and past happiness. I felt that I yet loved, but not the person I should, and had promised to love. Anzoleto conjured me in a low tone to receive him at night in my room, and threatened to come at any hazard or danger to him or to me. I had ever been a sister to him, and under the purest professions he concealed his plan. He would submit to my decision; he was going at dawn, but wished to bid me farewell. I fancied that he wished to make trouble and slander in the castle, that he proposed to make a terrible scene with Albert, and that I would be disgraced. I took a desperate resolution and executed it. At midnight I packed up in a small bundle all the clothing I required--I wrote a note for Albert--took what money I had, and (_par parenthèse_) forgot half of it. I left my room, mounted the hired horse Anzoleto had ridden, paid his guide to aid me, crossed the draw-bridge, and went to the neighboring city. I had never been on horseback before, and galloped four leagues. I then sent back the guide, and, pretending that I would await Anzoleto on the road to Prague, gave him false intelligence as to where my _brother_ would find me. I set out for Vienna, and at dawn was alone, on foot, without resources, in an unknown country, and walking rapidly as possible, to escape from two passions, apparently each equally unfortunate. I must, however, say that after a few hours the phantom of the perfidious Anzoleto was effaced from my mind, never to return, while the pure image of my Albert, like an ægis and promise of the future, cheered me amid the dangers of my route."