him, on his death-bed, and, pondering on the probable destitution of
his family, he repented his rash vow, and stated to Adelaide that he
should no longer oppose her wishes. M. Louison, procuring leave of
absence for a few days, was speedily on the spot, and, with as little
loss of time as possible, was united to the daughter of the seemingly
dying merchant. As, in such circumstances, it would have been cruel
for Madame Louison to leave the bedside of her aged parent, it was
arranged that she should remain till the period of his decease, and
then join her husband, who, in the meanwhile, was compelled to
return to Vienna. The old man, however, recovered as soon as his
son-in-law departed, and he now almost wished the marriage were
undone; but as that was impracticable, he, with as good a grace as
possible, saw his daughter set out on her journey to Dresden, whence
she was to be escorted to Vienna by M. de Monge, a friend of her
husband.

Nothing occurred to interrupt the journey of Madame Louison, for the
intermediate country was tranquil, and she had the happiness of
arriving safely under the roof of her husband's friend. This person
was one of those who will act conscientiously in all situations of
life, until they encounter an irresistible temptation to error. Such
was the present occasion. Overcome with the beauty of his
unsuspicious guest, he basely attempted to divert her affections from
her husband--an attempt which the noble Friedlander repelled with
becoming scorn. To cut short a long tale, this mortification filled
De Monge with vengeful sentiments, at the same time that his fears
were awakened, as he could hardly doubt that the lady would acquaint
her husband with his treachery. He affected to pass off his overtures
as nothing more than a jocular trial of her resolutions, but secretly
suffered from the torments of fear and resentment, insomuch that he was