“How so?⁠—you were looking the other way.”

The count smiled, as he was in the habit of doing when he did not want to make any reply, and he again turned towards the veiled woman, who soon disappeared at the corner of the street. Turning to his friend:

“Dear Maximilian,” said the count, “have you nothing to do in this land?”

“I have to weep over the grave of my father,” replied Morrel in a broken voice.

“Well, then, go⁠—wait for me there, and I will soon join you.”

“You leave me, then?”

“Yes; I also have a pious visit to pay.”