Litchfield enquirer., 1873-05-15
From Every Saturday.
EPISODES lM THE LIFE OF 4 Mu.
 SlCiAN.
BY N. BETHAM-EDwARDs.
(COntiaucd.,
". IMPRISONED BY THE SNOW.

z4 lCO3lttUucU.J
 ". IMPRISONED BY THE SNOW. It vas such winter night as only those dream of who live in the neighborhood of forests and mountains. There had been fortnight of snow storms already, and the trees round the Schloss of the Countess were laden with snow, the noun tains smooth and glittering the valley 8 sheet of gleaming white the wind rag ed nnceasingly. Travelling was danger Ous on account of the drifts in the roads, and the Countess and her companion, Helena, had spent twelve days entirely in each others company.
 They had sped fast enough. Music is 8 life and 8 world in self, and these two enthusiasts were absorbed in it, needing for the moment nathing else. Trouble, toil, love, and even duty, seemed hidden from them by veil in the first days of ena lost reccollection of the little wearing old for her years the Countess forgot the family quarrels and complications on her account, which for the time being, made any second marriage, not to say marriage with a poor musician, impossible.
 The two sat by an enormous wood fire, in a confidential mood, every now and then pausing, as some gust of wind swept like thunder among the pine-trees. What contrast they made You could see at the first glance that the delicate little lady, iu ruby colored velvet and gold or naments, had been accustomed from her cradel to softness and luxury, taken even music and other passions with a certain kind of indolence; whilst the hard worked, large featured, yet, in the eyes of the more discriminating, rather handsome Helena, in her gypsy's costume of black and scar let serge, showed not only in her deman- or, but in her looks, that the drudgery of life was familiar to her, and was accepted as naturally as spiritual thinga aiid great exhilarations.
 T would give anything to know where our poor Ogliostro is tonight" said the Countess, who with all her tact had not yet discovered whether this impulsive, half-savage, half infantine creature really concealed love for the Maestro or no As she spoke, she turned towards her com panion with questioning expression. Helena gazed in the fire. and made nQ anaweH. t.What pity too that he should have been driven away by that meddlesome Duke!" continued the Countess. "With all his gifts he may fare badly away from dear little Poppenheim' Some designing woman may persuade him to marry her ! against his will, for example"
 Still Helena was silent.
 'sYoq are looked upon as his, favorite pupil, pursued the Countess. ''Why do you not try to find him out, and pursuade him to go back in the spring.
 She was stayed from further banter by the girls imploring look.
 l 'I cannot talk of him. she said. 'Let us play to each other instead. Music is l the easiest speech"
 Helena never improvised or composed, but her playing was wholly original; not this or that famous reading of master pieces, but purely her own, indebted nei- ther to critic nor connoisseur. She play ed one of those marvellously passionate sonatas of Beethoven, which seem to tell the story of wild human life, and it was Ogliostro's story that she wanted to tell. As she threw herself, heart and soul, into the mingled fierceness and tenderness of the music, the Countess listened, and read her interpretations aright. Helena consented, woman-ike, to entire self-abnegation, so long as her beloved Maestro should be happy and triumphant. She divined that his triumphs would signify little to him, if he must suffer the one defeat that would spoil all, and mingled with prophecies oi his artistic success were intercesslons on , his behalf. The other listened eagerly, only half eomprehending this voluntary rennnciation of her companion. Hel speech. ssI cannot talk of him." had told her the truth, but she was far as yet from realizing it.
 The piece came to an end, and the Countess was abont to take Helena's place at the piano, when the sound of mans voice crying, Bravo bravissimo p from 1 without, caused both women to utter 6 lttle cry of surprise.
 l tsOg1iostro '" cried the Countess.
 ''The Maestro P cried Helena.
 And true enough it was he.
 They ran into the hall, and i'll another minute Ogliostro ascended the stone staircase leading from the courtyard. He was dressed in furs from head to foot and, booted and spurred, with pistols al his side, he looked more like Q freeboote1 than wandering musician. He made $ dozen apologies for appearing before then in this fashion; and having laid aside his furs and weapons, the three sat down te hastily prepared supper, laughing and talking gayly.
 "How good of you to ask no questions!' said the Maestro, looking from one to tn, other. .I drop out of the clouds, yo1 make me welcome, and am not bored b, having to explain everything. But wheI have satisfied my hunger, Twill tell yol all that has happened to me since wen away"
 He drank glass of wine and began t, eat; enthusiasm, however, soon got tn better of hunger.
 Only think" he said, ssit is sever months since I left Poppenheim. and fo