'To-morrow night, then, at one o'clock. Farewell, dear Jettè.'
Then came a kiss. Was it on the hand or the lips?
'Take care how you get down. To-morrow night. Adieu till then!'
The faithful knight-errant swung himself from branch to branch with an adroitness which proved that he was experienced in that mode of descent. As soon as he set foot on the ground the window above was closed.
It was now my turn to get into the trees. Gustav had taught me that trick. I wondered what sort of a looking fellow he was. Poor Jettè--to have chosen for herself, and yet to be condemned to be sacrificed to a man who could begin a letter about his intended bride with, 'I have duly received your esteemed favour of the 5th instant,' and who could absent himself from such a charming girl, merely because he had a slight cold! Well! it is a wretched world, this, in which we live. It was becoming more and more light. To-day she wished to have a private conversation with me--her only hope was in me; there was to be an explanation between us, an assignation in the garden. Who the deuce could run away from all this? But.... Well! nobody knew me--the real cousin was not coming for a week ... surely I might stay one day on the strength of personifying him? I am a fatalist; destiny has sent me, and it will aid me.... I will not forsake Jettè ... and I will revenge myself upon that little Mademoiselle Hannè, who wanted to drink me under the table, and I will show the whole accomplished family that I have studied good manners in Hamburg, and am neither a blockhead, a glutton, nor a drunkard. It is a matter that touches my honour; I will stay!... But ... suppose they take it into their heads to question me? Humph! If the worst comes to the worst, I can but stuff a little linen into my great-coat pocket, make a pretext to get outside the gate, and take to flight at once. In the meantime, I will make some inquiries about the neighbourhood and the roads, for at present I have not the most remote idea whether I ought to turn to the right hand or the left. And to-morrow night--good-by to this darling family, with many thanks for their kind welcome. Whilst they are all sleeping, or keeping nocturnal assignations, I shall vanish without leaving the slightest trace behind. It will give them something to talk of till Christmas.
Whilst this monologue was in progress of utterance, I was busily undressing myself. I jumped into bed, and soon slept as soundly as if I had a lawful right to be there, and were the dreaded cousin himself.
But when I was summoned to breakfast next morning I was in a very different frame of mind. I had slept off the effects of the wine, sober reason had resumed her sway, fear followed at my heels like a bad spirit; and I would assuredly have made my escape if the well-dressed valet-de-chambre had left me a moment to myself. I was compelled to resign myself to my fate, and allow myself to be marshalled to the breakfast-parlour; but as I approached the scene of my threatened exposure, despair restored my courage, I remembered that it was incumbent on me to wipe out the disgrace of the preceding evening, and I found my habitual impudence and lightness of heart upon the very threshold of the door.
I went up to them all, and shook hands with them, and as I now knew that I was engaged to Jettè, I kissed her hand with all possible amorous gallantry. The poor girl looked as if she could have sunk into the earth, and I coloured up to my temples, for I just recollected that I had on no betrothal ring. Jettè wore the plain gold ring I had heard her mention, but it was almost hidden by another ring, with a simple enamelled 'Forget-me-not.' Might not that have been a gift from the unknown Gustav?
'How are you this morning, my dear?' said the Justitsraad. 'Jettè has not been very well lately,' he added; 'she looks poorly, and has no appetite. It must be that abominable nervousness, of which young ladies now-a-days are always complaining.'
Jettè assured him that she felt quite well. I doubted if her mother or her sister were so much in her confidence as I was at that moment; but neither of them had been sitting at an open window between twelve o'clock at night and three o'clock in the morning.