were forgotten. On my departure for Vienna, they gave me letters to
their friends in that metropolis, by whom I was received with marked
distinction.

"I had not, however, been many days in Vienna, when one evening,
returning from a party on foot, my servant having neglected to bring
my carriage, a sudden stream of light from a window fell upon a figure
which I perceived walking before me. He turned round at the same moment,
and I beheld my warden.--'STOP!' said the apparition; I did do so;
but in a moment the light vanished, and he was gone.

"This third warning took some effect: it was mystical, and I pondered in
a vain endeavour to ascertain to what it could allude. My conjectures
were fruitless: I could only recall that in the course of the evening
I had been much excited by the beauty of a young countess, for whom,
on account of her marriage, the ball had been given. The count, her
husband, was a noble and elegant young man, and their mutual attachment
had been a theme of admiration from their childhood in their respective
families.--'STOP!' I repeated to myself, as I entered my
lodgings, 'what can that have to do with aught that I have undertaken?'
But in the course of a few days I became myself again, the admonisher
was forgotten, and I could think only of the beautiful countess. I have
just told my confessor that in less than a month her husband shot
himself, and she fled from my arms to a nunnery.

"This affair obliged me to quit Vienna more abruptly than I intended;
but instead of going to Venice, I went to Paris, taking Frankfort in my
way. Being entirely unknown at Frankfort, I hastily visited alone every
thing remarkable in the city, resolving to leave it in the morning; but
the day was sultry, and in the evening, partly owing to fatigue, I felt