"His father was an eminent philologist, and had been removed from his professorship for permitting himself, while lecturing, to indulge in expressions in favor of liberty. In a material sense, he was, fortunately, well-to-do. His family owned a large estate in the forest country, whither he repaired, taking with him his collections of antiques and his books.
"The son sickened while in prison, and a wasting fever undermined his youthful strength; and, as his days were numbered, the physician at the fortress requested the authorities to release him.
"I have positive information--as the sister of that young man afterward became my wife--that our Prince, your father, was willing to grant the discharge. But, before it could be carried into effect, it was necessary to ask for Metternich's permission--and Metternich refused it.
"The commandant of the fortress held me in great esteem, and permitted me, on his own responsibility, to be placed in the same cell with the sick prisoner.
"I nursed him faithfully, and watched his every movement. I shall never care to recall the thoughts that passed through my mind during the long days, and still longer nights, that I passed at his bedside. He was slowly sinking; for confinement was killing him, and yet no word of complaint ever fell from his lips.
"His father came and--could you imagine it?--was not allowed to converse with his son except in the presence of a guard.
"Then came his sister, only fifteen years old--but of that no matter at present.
"The noble martyr died. He was buried in the village at the foot of the fortress.
"While these things were going on, there was dancing and dining at Court, and Metternich was writing witty billet-doux.
"You, of course, have never heard of these things.