ed on, and was now out of sight. In trying to find her I lost the servant, and thus ended my first adventure. ‘And who was the lady?’ inquired Libussa. ‘Who?—Can you ask?’ said the Duke in a tone of the greatest surprise. I told you the story in jest, indeed, as if it were quite new—but is it possible that you did not observe me that day in the gallery?’—‘I, indeed?’ exclaimed Libussa. ‘My daughter?’ said the Countess, ‘it is incredible.’—‘Nay, indeed,’ resumed the Duke. ‘The same servant whom, to my great satisfaction, you left behind you in Paris, and whom I hailed one night as if he had been a guardian spirit, told me all that I wished to know, so that, after a short visit to my native country, I came hither.’—‘What strange story is this?’ said the Count to his daughter, who remained speechless with wonder. ‘Libussa,’ added he, turning to me, ‘has never yet been out of her native country—‘and, for my own part, I have not visited Paris for sixteen years.’ The Duke now looked as much perplexed as they did, and the conversation would have died away altogether, if I had not started a new subject, which I was obliged to keep up alone.
