One circumstance, however, reconciled Marie to the excitement of these
days: Ludwig spent more time with her; and though his face was as stern
as ever, she could not detect in it the melancholy which cannot be
concealed from the eyes of the woman who can look into the depths, of
the soul.
CHAPTER II
At last, one day late in the autumn, Count Vavel received from his
correspondent, Herr Mercatoris, the information that the dragoon
regiment was going to change its quarters, and that the departure from
Fertoeszeg would be celebrated by various amusements, among them a
regatta with colored lanterns on the lake and magnificent fireworks on
the shore.
"We shall manage somehow to live through it," was the count's mental
comment on the news. He knew Marie's horror of fire--how she suffered
with terror when she saw a conflagration, no matter how distant. She was
even afraid of the rockets and paper dragons which were used at the
celebration at the conclusion of the grape harvest every year. On the
evening of the merrymaking Marie was afraid to go to bed. She begged
Ludwig to close the blinds and to read to her in a loud voice, so that
she might not see the light of the fireworks or hear the tumult on the
lake shore.
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