wind."

But again he whispered: "Start not, Elise; do not utter a word or
cry!"

"O God!" murmured she in a low tone, trembling in all her limbs. An
ardent embrace, a glowing kiss upon her brow, and a well-beloved voice
whispered her name.

"Feodor!" uttered she faintly. Overcome by the sudden violence of
her feelings, her head dropped languidly on his breast. Then, drawing
herself up, she gazed at him, and her eager, loving look encountered
his flashing eye. She was, as it were, fascinated--happy as in a
dream, and yet conscious of the most delicious waking.

"Do you know me, Elise? Do you recognize your Feodor in spite of his
disguise?"

"Oh, speak again," said she as he ceased. "It is so long since I have
heard your voice!"

"Ten weeks have passed," said he, pressing her still closer to
his heart, "without my being able to see you or convey to you any
information. I could endure it no longer. I said to myself, 'God is
the friend of lovers,' and so I disguised myself as you see me, and
ventured here."

Elise started up and gazed at him anxiously. Awaking from her ecstasy
of delight, she just began to be conscious of the present.