Year: 1869

Lucca. They stopped the low britzka in
which they travelled, and, leaving servant
to make arrangements for their lodging
linked arms and strolled up the road to
ward the banks of the Lima. The moon
was checkered at the moment with the
poised leaf of tree-top, and as it passed
from her face she arose and stood alone in
the steel-blue of the unclouded heavens
luminous and tremulous plate of gold. AND
you know how beautiful must have beer
the night-a June night in Italy, with &
moon at the full


A lady, with servant following her al
little distane, passed the travellers on the
bridge of the Lima She dropped her vel
and went by in silence. But the Freyherl
felt the arm of his friend tremble within
his own.


"Do you know her, then p asked Vor
Leisten.


"By the thrill in my veins, we have
met before" said Clay; "but whether this
involuntary sensation was pleasurable OF
painful, | have not yet decided. There
are none L care to meet-none who can be
here" He added the last few words after
moments pause, and sadly.


They walked on in silence to the base Of
the mountain, busy each with such coloring
as the moonlight threw on their thoughts
but neither of them were happy.


Clay was humane, and lover of nature
"a poet, that is to say-and, in world
so beautiful, could never be prey to dis
gust; but he was satiated with the com
mon emotions of life. His heart, forever
overhowing, had filed many a cup with
love, but with strange tenacity he turned
back forever to the first He was weary
of the beginnings of love-weary of its pro.
bations and changes. He had passed the
period of life when Inconsistency was tempt
ing. He longed now for an affection thai
would continue into another world-holy
and pure enough to pass gate guarded by
angels. And his first love-recklessly as
he had thrown it away-was now the thirst
of his existence.


1t was two o'clock at night. The moon
lay broad upon the southern balconies Of
the hotel, and every easement was open tc
its luminous and fragrant stiffness. Clay
and the Freyherr Won Leisten, each in his
apartment, were awake, unwilling to lose
the luxury of the night. And there was
one other under that roof waking, with her
eyes fixed on the moon.


As Clay leaned his head on his hand and
looked outward to the sky, his heart began
to be troubled. There was point in the
path of the moons rays where his spirit
turned back. There was an influence
abroad in the dissolving moonlight around
him which resistlessly awakened the past
the sealed but unforgotten past. He
could not single out the emotion. He
knew not whether it was fear or hope, pain
or pleasure. He called, through the open
window, to Won Leisten.


The Freyherr, like himself, and like all
who have outlived the effervescence of life,
was enamored of the night A moment of
unfathomed moonlight was dearer to him
than hours disenchanted with the sun. He,
too, had been looking outward and upward,
but with no trouble at his heart.


"The night is inconceivably sweet" he
said, as he entered, "and your voice called
in my thoughts and sense from the intoxi-
cation of revel. What would you, my
friend 2"


| am restless, Won Leisteul There is
some one near us whose glances cross mine
on the moonlight, and agitate and perplex
me. Yet there was but one on earth deep
enough in the life blood of being to move
me thus, even were she here And she
is not herew


His voice trembled and softened, and
the last word was scarce audible on his
closing lips, for the Freyherr had passed
his hands over him while he spoke, and
he had fallen into the trance of the spirit.
world.


Clay and Won Leisten, had retired from
the active passions of life together, and had
met and mingled at that moment of void
and thirst when each supplied the want Of
the other. The Freyherr was German
noble, of character passionately poetic,
and of singular requirement in the mystic
fields of knowledge. Too wealthy to need
labor, and too proud to submit his thoughts
or his attainments to the criticism or judg
ment of the world, he lavished on his owr
life, and on those linked to him in friend
ship, the strange powers he had acquired
and the prodigal overflow of his daily
thought and feeling. Clay was his supe
rior, perhaps, in genius, and necessity had
driven him to develop the type of his inner
soul and leave its impress on the time; bu
he was inferior to Won Leisten in the power
of will, and he lay in his control like a
child in its mothers. Four years they
had passed together-much of it in the
secluded castle of Won Leisten, busted with
the occult studies to which the Freyherl
was secretly devoted but travelling dowr
to Italy to meet the luxurious Summer
and dividing their lives between the en-
joyment of nature and the ideal world the,
had unlocked, Won Leisten had lost, b,