After a feverish and sleepless night, I fell at daybreak into a slumber, which lasted till late in the day. On getting out of bed, with the sun high in the sky, and before I was well awake, I began, almost unconsciously, to pack my portmanteau. The instinct was a true one; evidently I had now nothing to stay for in Klein-Fleckenberg. I rang for the waiter, and bade him secure me a place in that day's eilwagen. I was not yet dressed, when a servant brought me a letter and a small packet. I opened the former first. It was from the Countess Von P——, the wife of the marshal of the household. Its contents were as follows:—
"Rev. Mr Ehrmann—I thus address you because it is in that character we shall longest remember you. You are entitled to an explanation of certain circumstances and overtures concerning whose origin the appearance of his highness the Prince of Schnapselzerhausen will already have partly enlightened you.
"The description given us of the prince in the last letter of our confidential correspondent at his father's court—in which letter his musical skill and love of dramatic performances were particularly referred to—coincided, as did also the probable time of his arrival here, so closely with your appearance, that, when the real prince presented himself, under the assumed name of a Livonian gentleman, we were far from suspecting who he really was.
"I am commissioned to thank you, in the joint names of the Princess Theresa and her illustrious parents, for your excellent performance in yesterday's play. The princess, who is suffering from indisposition, brought on by the alarm of fire and subsequent surprise, requests your acceptance of the accompanying trinket as a slight token of her esteem."
The trinket was a gold ring, with the initial T. in brilliants. I pressed it to my lips, and I know not why I should be ashamed to confess that my eyes grew dim as I gazed upon it. I had had a vain but happy dream, and the moment of awakening was painful. An hour later I crossed for the last time the frontier of the pleasant little duchy.
The Gotha Almanack supplies the date of the marriage of the Princess Theresa of Klein-Fleckenberg with the son of the reigning Prince of Schnapselzerhausen. It also records a series of subsequent events which would induce many to believe in the conjugal felicity of the illustrious pair;—the birth, namely, of half a dozen little Schnapselzerhausens. That the second-born is christened Charles, may be ascribed by the world to caprice, accident, or a god-father: my vanity explains it otherwise.
[THE QUAKER'S LAMENT.]
[The subject of the following poem will best be gathered from the entry in the notice-sheet of the House of Commons of 7th May last. We do not disguise our delight at finding that Mr Bright is about to take up the cause of protection in any portion of Her Majesty's dominions; and although his sympathies seem to have been awakened at a considerable distance from the metropolis, we are not without hope that the tide will set in, decidedly and strongly, towards the point where it is most especially needed. It is, at all events, refreshing to know that the Ryots of India have secured the services of so powerful and determined a champion, who has now ample leisure, owing to the general dulness of trade, to do every justice to their cause.