He knew from it that the count was informed of his visit, and he tortured himself by trying to imagine what the angry old man would do.

His heart sank like a stone in his breast when he thought of Hedwig, so imprisoned, guarded, made a martyr of, for his folly.

He groaned aloud when he understood that it was in the power of her father to take her away suddenly and leave no trace of their destination, and he cursed his haste and impetuosity in having shown himself inside the house.

But with all this weight of trouble upon him, he felt the strength and indomitable determination within him which come only to a man who loves, when he knows he is loved again.

He kissed the little handkerchief, and even the scissors she had used to weight it with, and he put them in his breast.