the last quarter to twelve just as I spoke to her in this room, and advised her not to dance so violently.’—‘And where, think you, is Marino?’ said her father. ‘How can I tell? I had expected to find him here,’—‘God have mercy,’ said her mother; ‘she is indeed bewildered and insane, but where can the Duke be?’—‘What means all this, dearest mother?’ said Libussa, now alarmed in her turn, while the Count snatched up a light, and beckoned me to follow him. He led the way directly to the apartment that had been assigned to the newly married couple, and there a horrible sight awaited us. We found the Duke alone,—lying on the floor, his frame already rigid in death, and his visage frightfully distorted. You may imagine, though I cannot describe, the grief and distraction of Libussa, when intelligence was brought to her of this event, and the physicians declared that any attempt to restore animation must be in vain. Indeed, the whole family were thrown into such despair, that my presence could no longer be of any service; it was impossible to console them; and I was not sorry, when letters arrived, containing information that my presence was particularly required at my
