Thus lamenting, the worthy father walked up and down before the prison in a state of pitiable distress, till a bright thought flashed across his mind, and he set off as fast as his trembling limbs could carry him to put it in execution.
In the mean time Clara had followed the officer into the prison, and her heart beat faster as she advanced, for her undertaking now appeared to her in a new light, and she trembled as she thought of the interpretation the Prince might put upon her boldness. It was, however, too late to repent; she had not even time for hesitation. The officer is already at the door, the bolts are withdrawn, and Clara finds herself in the presence of Ferdinand. Confused and horror-struck at what she had done, she, however, scarcely knew where she was, every thing seemed to swim before her eyes, and, gasping for breath, she caught firm hold of the door-way for support.
For some moments, Ferdinand was not aware of her presence, as he sat gloomily resting his head upon his hand, his elbow supported by a table, upon which lay a variety of papers, whilst Hans, a favourite servant, who had followed him from Germany, stood beside him.
Awed by his abstraction, and abashed by the presumption she had been guilty of, in intruding, unsolicited, upon his presence, Clara still stood irresolute, fearing alike to advance or to recede, till the officer, impatient at her delay, cried, in a loud voice—
"Walk in, if you please, Ma'am, that I may re-lock the door. I shall return to let you out in an hour."
The sound of the officer's voice caught the attention of Ferdinand, and he looked towards the door-way, from the shade of which the trembling Clara was now forced to advance.
"Miss Montagu," cried Prince Ferdinand, who had seen her at one of Elvira's parties, and had thought her so pretty as to inquire her name,—"this is an unhoped-for pleasure; I did not expect this."
"I came—I came—" stammered Clara: and here she stopped short, for upon recollection she really could not tell why she did come.
"I am delighted to see you," said the prince, smiling, and taking her hand, "whatever may be the cause that has procured me this honour."
"I—I—I—had—rather—sit—down," stammered Clara, without having the least idea what she was talking about.