distance between the dream and its fulfilment, and Count Larinski
experienced at this juncture that the most melancholy man in the world
may find it difficult to conquer his passion for living.

He had no reason to feel very cheerful. He had quitted Vienna in
order to betake himself to the Saxon Casino, where _roulette_ and
_trente-et-quarante_ are played. His ill-luck would have it that he
stopped on the way at Milan, and fell in with a circle of ill repute,
where this most imprudent of men played and lost. There remained to him
just enough cash to carry him to Saxon; but what can be accomplished in
a casino when one has empty pockets? Before crossing the Splugen he had
written to a petty Jew banker of his acquaintance for money. He counted
but little on the compliance of this Hebrew, and this was why he paused
five minutes to contemplate the Plessur, after which he retraced his
steps. Twenty minutes later he was crossing a public square, ornamented
with a pretty Gothic fountain, and seeing before him a cathedral, he
hastened to enter it.

The cathedral of Chur possesses, among other curiosities, a painting by
Albert Durer, a St. Lawrence on the gridiron, attributed to Holbein, a
piece of the true cross, and some relics of St. Lucius and his sister
Ernesta. Count Abel only accorded a wandering attention to either St.
Lucius or St. Lawrence. Scarcely had he made his way into the nave of
the building, when he beheld something that appeared to him far more
interesting than paintings or relics. An English poet has said that at
times there is revealed to us a glimpse of paradise in a woman's face,
and it was such a rare blessing that was at this moment vouchsafed unto
Count Larinski. He was not a romantic man, and yet he remained for
some moments motionless, rooted to the spot in admiration. Was it a
premonition of his destiny? The fact is that, in beholding for the first