Three months afterwards, as a lady was sitting alone in the Baroness's room, and gazing on the portrait of him she loved riglit dearly, she suddenly started from her seat, and would have shrieked, had not an indefinable sensation prevented her. The eyes of the portrait moved. The lady stood leaning on a chair, pale, and trembling like an aspen, but gazing stedfastly on the animated portrait. It was no illusion of a heated fancy; again the eyelids trembled, there was a melancholy smile, and then they closed. The clock of Rodenstein Castle struck three. Between astonishment and fear, the Lady was tearless. Three days afterwards came the news of the battle of Leipsic, and at the very moment that the eyes of the portrait closed, Max Rodenstein had been pierced by a Polish Lancer."
"And who was this wonderful lady, the witness of this wonderful incident?" asked Vivian.
"That lady was myself."
