now to be regarded in the light of nasty medicine by a beautiful girl, was too much for my feelings, and in this mode the countess arrived at Venice, her medicine riding on horseback after her.

A suite of apartments and servants were assigned to me in the magnificent palace which the count had hired, and as the count had plenty of friends among the Venetian noblemen, we had soon abundance of visitors.

We had not been in Venice more than four days, when, one evening, I was summoned to the count, by whom I was welcomed with more than his usual cordiality.

"My daughter wishes to see you," he said; "enter with me into her apartment-but softly, for she is in such a state of nervous excitement, that the slightest noise will upset her."

We came into a large and splendid apartment, hung with green silk drapery. The two chambermaids leant against the window; the doctor was on the sofa looking at his patient, while the beautiful girl stood in the middle of the room, bolt upright, with one of her beautiful arms hanging down, and the other extended. She looked like a rare piece of statuary, her attitude was so still; and only the heaving of her breast told she lived. Everything was so silent, while every eye was attracted by the godlike figure of the beautiful countess. She said, with a smile of angelic sweetness, at last

"Emanuel, why have you staid away so long? Come near and bless me, that my sufferings may end."

Not understanding whether this conversation was meant for me, I looked very foolish; but the doctor and the count made a sign that I should approach, and, like a priest, make the sign of the cross, and lay my hands upon her, as if I was blessing her. I drew near, raised my hands over her beautiful head, but, so great was my respect, that I had not the courage to touch her. I lifted my hands again, and extended them towards her. Her movements seemed to become more joyful; my confusion increased, as the beautiful girl said—

"Oh! Emanuel, it is not yet thy wish to assist her-wish!- wish! Thou art powerful, and thy wishes can do anything."

"Doubt everything, beautiful coun

tess," I replied, "except my wish to assist you;" for I felt that had she required me to cast myself out of the window, I would have cheerfully done it, so strong was the fascination of her beauty.

I felt as if I were in the presence of a goddess. The graceful beauty of her figure, the classic charm of her features, which seemed of more than earthly loveliness - had disembodied my spirit. I had never before felt the combined power of beauty and nobility. As I had seen her previously, her face appeared so pale and mournful, with a touching expression of meek sorrow; but now it was far different: a celestial blush suffused her features, and her eyes swam in an atmosphere of radiant light, which neither art nor nature could bestow. The expression of her face had a smile, and yet not a smile; but breathing a delight so intense, it was justly called by her attendants inspiration-but such inspiration, it never entered into the glorious dreams of the most inspired artist to imagine or conceive.

“Oh, Emanuel," at length she said, "now is thy wish earnest-now she feels that through thee her hour of succour is at hand-thy hair is wreathed in golden flames, and from thy fingers are waving streams of silver light; thou floatest in the liquid azure of heaven."

Her whole being seemed to drink in a flood of light. Notwithstanding the beauty of her language, I could not help thinking of the nasty medicine to which she had previously compared me, and the not unnatural wish arose in my mind, that I should always continue radiant in the brilliant hues in which I was now clothed by her fancy, shining all over like a silver fish.

"Do not let thy thoughts wrong the fancy of the sick girl, Emanuel, who compared thee with bitter medicine," said the countess. "Be more noble than that unfortunate lady, carried away by the intensity of her sufferings, which has brought her to the verge of madness."

The doctor cast a laughing glance at me, which I returned; but it was not of astonishment that the proud beauty had entreated my pardon, but that she had guessed my inmost thoughts.

"Do not talk to the doctor, Ema

nuel," said the inspired countess; "it hurts her when thy thoughts are for a moment absent; remain firm in thy desire to light up her half-dissolved being with thy power. Seest thou how strong is thy will?-the cold particles soften and dissolve like the hoarfrost of winter beneath the sunshine."

As she thus spoke, her arm, which was extended, gradually drooped, animation and life returned to her figure, and she asked for a chair. The doctor fetched one covered with cushions of green silk, elaborately wrought.

"Not this," she said, "but that arm-chair covered with striped linen, which stands before the writing-table in Emanuel's room below-have that always."

Now it so happened that there was a chair exactly answering this description before my writing-table, which the countess could never have seen. As I gave the key to one of the servants, she said—

"Not that key, but the one with the dark spot on it."

I gave them both to the servant, and it appears she was right; for the first key, which I had mistaken for that of the chamber door, opened only a press.

When the chair arrived, having seated herself in it, she desired me to stand opposite, with my hands extended, pointing to her heart.

"O God!" she exclaimed, "what intense delight! Give her thy wordsshe prays thee not to leave her till her health is restored. If thou leavest her she must perish miserably; her life depends upon thee. Do not regard her," she said; "when in a state of earthly waking she knows thee not. Forgive the unfortunate, who knows not what she does-all vices are weakness of the vital powers which destroy the powers of the mind."

She became communicative, and, so far from being angry at my questions, seemed to listen to them with pleasure. I expressed my wonder about the extraordinary features of her case, and said I had not thought it possible that any one could predict events, or know the thoughts of others. After a silence of some moments, she said

"She is as well as any mortal can be, whose earthly frame is about to be dissolved. She is as well as she can be, when the body is about to retire to destruction, and the earthly lamp of

eternal light is going out in darkness."

"This inspiration," I said, "does not in the least enlighten me on the subject; on the contrary, it leaves me quite in a mist."

"Mist, Emanuel! but you will learn by experience. She knows much, but cannot express it. Nature seems an endless ocean of holiness, or like a shining heaven, suffused with melted light, which drops into stars. The soul is the shell of a heavenly body, which is but the covering of the everlasting. The earthly shell of the sick person is now broken, and her soul sees and feels out of her earthly tabernacle-the earthly shell can now be made whole, Emanuel, by thee; otherwise will she perish."

She was silent; I listened as if to the voice of another world. The count and the doctor listened with equal surprise; both assured me that the countess had never before spoken in a similar manner, and had never before answered questions.

I drew her attention to her weakness, and asked if long speaking did not take away her strength.

“No,” she replied, "not when thou art with me-in seven minutes her sleep will go off; but to-morrow it will return. Then, Emanuel, I pray thee do not fail her. Come to her, with the steadfast wish to save her, five minutes before three o'clock, by the clock in thy chamber, not by thy watch, which is three minutes too fast -be punctual, that the patient should escape unnecessary suffering."

With this she ceased, and a dead silence fell over the party. Her face became paler every instant, and the appearance of life in her features faded. Sinking negligently down, she seemed as if about to fall asleep; then she groaned and wakened; and when she beheld me, she appeared astonished— she looked from one to another. The chambermaid hasted to her, also the count and Doctor Walter.

"What is your pleasure?" said she to me, in a harsh tone.

"Gracious countess, I only await your commands."

"Who are you?"

"Your servant, Emanuel, noble countess."

"I feel much obliged by your good-will; but if you would allow me,

I prefer being alone," she replied, in a sorrowful tone; then making a bow, got up and turned her back upon me.

I quitted the apartment with a strange mixture of sensations: as different as heaven and earth was the condition of the countess asleep and awake. Gone were my gold and silver beams-gone her familiar thou, that sank so softly into my soul; and even the name Emanuel, by which she had called me, was known no

more.

I returned to my solitary chamber, shaking my head like one who had listened to fairy tales so long, that the reality seemed charmed. There was no arm chair before my writing. table; I supplied its place, and wrote off the wonderful scene which had just occurred, for I feared that at some future time I should not believe it. I willingly forgave all her former harshness, for the sake of her exceeding beauty.

The following day I had a second visit from the Graf, who related to me in joyful accents that his daughter had passed a delicious night, and that she felt herself much better.

"At breakfast," continued he, "I related to her all that had passed, but she would not believe me, persisting it must be the ravings of insanity. She began to weep; I quieted her. I said that without doubt we might anticipate her complete restoration to health. I could not, however, prevail upon her to see you awake; but she assured me your appearance was so distasteful, she could not endure you. We could not force her assent-what is to be done?"

The count and I became more intimate every day, and his friendship seemed to increase in proportion with the hatred of his daughter.

Doctor Walter, with the rest of the servants, soon began to observe the extraordinary influence I had with the count, and overwhelmed me with polite attentions, which I would willingly have exchanged for the smiles of the beautiful countess, who still continued hostile. Her dislike seemed gradually to increase, and at last I hardly dared to enter her presence. I will not, however, anticipate my story. At three o'clock exactly I entered the chamber of the countess, when I found matters pretty much the same as be

fore; all her peculiar beauty had returned: and when she became aware of my presence, she threw a haughty glance at me, and said—

"Who gave you permission to enter my chamber unannounced?"

A low convulsive sob choked her voice, and she fell into the arms of her attendants. They immediately brought the arm-chair which she had asked for the day before. She had scarcely seated herself in it when she began to beat herself in a frightful manner. It was with difficulty I could endure the sad spectacle. I assumed the attitude I did on the former day, extending my arms towards her. Her convulsions continued; but at length, with a soft sigh, she seemed relieved, and the impression of sadness gradually disappearing from her countenance, the glow of inspiration began to return. At length she said, in a tone of angelic softness

She

She

She continued to have her eyes close shut, but was able to tell all that was passing behind her; she even told the number and description of persons who were passing in a gondola near. began to converse, at length, of her illness of her night wanderings, and of a long fainting fit, in which many of her family believed her dead, and which had lasted for nearly ten hours. described how her father, leaving her in despair, had retired to his chamber, and, throwing himself upon his knees, prayed-a circumstance which could have been known to no one but himself, for the room was dark, and he had locked the door. In these conversations she still continued to speak of herself in the third person, as if of a stranger. At one time she said,

"She is a countess, and the daughter of the Count von Rosenthal; but I am not."

Her whole appearance in these trances was of the most lofty and beautiful kind. Presently she sank into a fit of deep reflection. Upon the occasion of this interview, her fit of inspiration ended almost as it did before. Thus matters went on for many months. Although very anxious, I can scarcely describe what passed. The health of the countess appeared gradually to im

prove. In consequence of her frequent trances, I became almost a slave; I could scarcely leave the house for a moment. Every day seemed to clothe her with a fresh charm. Had I never seen her but for an hour, its memory would endure for a lifetime. Oh, the rapture of first love! Yes; I deny it not-love it was, but I may truly say, not an earthly one: my whole being was bound up in this inspired priestess. I felt so unworthy to be regarded by her slightest look, could she only have tolerated me as the meanest of her servants, without antipathy, I would have thought it the highest celestial happiness. But, alas! in proportion as my society seemed to charm her when asleep, rose her antipathy to me when awake. This antipathy gradually increased to hatred-always showed itself in some manner of which I was peculiarly sensitive; with passionate tears she would entreat her father to send me out of the house. She despised me as a common vaga. bond, who was unworthy to breathe the very air with her, still less to be so much in the confidence of the Graf von Rosenthal.

Incredible as it may appear, when she was in these trances she seemed to follow all the movements of my hands, and to anticipate my very thoughts. At length, it seemed scarcely necessary that I should extend my hands towards her; my wishes were sufficient to bring relief. She would drink neither wine nor water which I had not touched with my fingers, out of which issued, as she said, "streams of light."

One day the count proposed to me that I should make an experiment of the affection of his daughter, by asking her, when in a trance, that she should give me a beautiful full-blown rose when she was awake. The experiment was tried, notwithstanding my objections; and I one day interrupted a friendly conversation, by making the request, previously to which, how. ever, I ought to mention, that I had gone over to some roses which were growing in the balcony, and in selecting one of them, a thorn pierced my finger the countess actually uttered a violent exclamation, as if in severe pain.

"Take care," said she, "Emanuel; whatever hurts you pains me also." Thinking this the most suitable moment to make my request,

"But it is also my dearest wish," I replied. "Will you, when you waken at twelve o'clock, remember it?"

"Can she do anything else?" she replied, laughing.

When this conversation ceased the count departed, and summoned the attendants and the doctor.

It might have been a little after ten o'clock that Hortense awoke, and showed to the physician the hurt on her finger. She thought she had injured it with a needle, and wondered there was no outward sore. At eleven she showed symptoms of uneasinesswalked up and down the chamber, and began to abuse me to her women, and overpowered her father with reproaches for not having dismissed me before. She then began to talk about other matters. Her restlessness increased; she was asked if she was unwell. They tried in vain to find out the cause of her uneasiness. She hid her face in the pillows, and begged of them all to leave the room. A quarter before twelve, her bell was heard. She informed her maid, when she entered the apartment, that I must be present when the clock struck twelve. Although I had looked forward to this invitation, I felt quite upset by it. With a palpitating heart, I entered the room; the countess was sitting carelessly upon the sofa-her beautiful head, shaded by its dark locks, supported by her delicate hand. In a manner half sorrowful, half angry, she rose as I entered; and I then requested the honour of her commands.

She did not immediately answer, but seemed to hesitate, as if at a loss for words. At last she said

"Mr. Emanuel, it seems as if I ought to make you a present, in order to induce you to retire from our service."

"Countess," I said, as I felt my pride rising, "I did not force myself into the count's employment; you are aware of the reasons which have induced me to remain in the company of my lord. I would willingly obey your

commands just uttered, but for the hope of being useful."

She turned her back upon me, and began to play with a pair of scissors near the rose-trees. Suddenly she cut off a new-blown rose, which she offered me, saying-" Take the best I have to offer you take it as a reward for having hitherto kept out of my way, and let me see you no more.' Then she threw herself on the sofa, and, with averted face, made a sign that I should withdraw.

I regained my apartment, and pressed to my lips the rose, which I considered worth all the crowns and jewels on earth.

The dislike of the countess from this period, strange to say, seemed to increase. Her father, convinced of my honesty, as well as my ability to be useful, was proof against all his daughter's suspicions and fears. My position became very irksome; for I perceived that every one else, even to the servants, treated me with aversion and contempt. This at length increased to such an extent, that I perceived that it had gradually the effect of alienating from me the count's esteem; and I should have been unable to remain, had it not been for the kindness of the countess, who, in her trances, would entreat me not to mind such temporary estrangements.

One evening the count called me into his cabinet. He asked me to give him the books I had managed, as well as an order for two thousand louisd'ors recently come, which he said he wished to put into the bank of Venice, as he intended remaining for another year. I took the opportunity to entreat of him to give these matters of service to the management of some one else, as I intended, as soon as the health of the countess should be a little restored, to leave his house and service. Although I said this with some emotion, the count did not appear to pay much attention, but merely replied, that he would be able, doubtless, to get some one to attend to his affairs. This was enough; I perceived that he wished to get rid of me. I went back to my room, and collected all the papers, both those he had asked me for, and the others; but I could not lay my hands upon the order he required; I searched for it, but in

vain.

The next morning the count reminded me.

"You have forgotten," said he, "the steward's accounts I asked you for yesterday, with the money order."

The only excuse I could devise was, that I had temporarily mislaid some papers, among which I supposed was the one in question, but that I would surely have it by the following morning. My search, however, was utterly in vain; and at length I came to the conclusion that the cheques were either lost or stolen, or that I had unknowingly destroyed them myself. No one, except my servant, who could neither read nor write, had the key of my room. My apprehensions were

terrific.

On repairing next morning to the countess, in order to be present at her state of somnambulism, the count received me with a stern and grave aspect. The thought that he believed me dishonest was maddening. Full of these thoughts, I approached the sleeping countess; and the idea immediately occurred to me, that she, by means of her extraordinary gift of second sight, might inform me what had become of the papers. While I was

deliberating how I should approach the subject, the countess complained of an extraordinary cold blast, which was blowing from me to her, and which, she said, if it were not changed, would cause her pain.

"Thou art disturbed by some secret sorrow, Emanuel," said the countess ; "thy thoughts and thy wishes are not with her."

"Dearest countess," I replied, "it is no wonder. Perhaps you, with your wonderful powers of penetrating into mystery, can give me back my peace. I have lost four cheques belonging to your father."

The count frowned. Dr. Walter exclaimed

"I beg you will not trouble the countess with such matters in her present state."

I was silent. Hortense appeared to reflect for a few moments.

"Do not be uneasy, Emanuel, “ "you have not lost them; they have been taken from you. Here, take this key; you will find them in yonder jewelcase."

I hurried to the press with a little gold key she gave me. One of the