She was not absent a moment." He stood, for a time, as if to
assure himself of my sincerity. Then, clinching his hands, and
wildly lifting them above his head, "Lo," cried he, "I have news
to tell you. The Baroness de Stolberg is dead?"

This was her whom he loved. I was not surprised at the
agitations which he betrayed. "But how was the information
procured? How was the truth of this news connected with the
circumstance of Catharine's remaining in our company?" He was
for some time inattentive to my questions. When he spoke, it
seemed merely a continuation of the reverie into which he had
been plunged.

"And yet it might be a mere deception. But could both of us
in that case have been deceived? A rare and prodigious
coincidence! Barely not impossible. And yet, if the accent be
oracular--Theresa is dead. No, no," continued he, covering his
face with his hands, and in a tone half broken into sobs, "I
cannot believe it. She has not written, but if she were dead,
the faithful Bertrand would have given me the earliest
information. And yet if he knew his master, he must have easily
guessed at the effect of such tidings. In pity to me he was
silent."

"Clara, forgive me; to you, this behaviour is mysterious. I
will explain as well as I am able. But say not a word to
Catharine. Her strength of mind is inferior to your's. She
will, besides, have more reason to be startled. She is
Wieland's angel."