The young maiden had half dreamingly listened to him, her hand leaned

back and her glance directed toward the heavens. She now smiled, and,

with an inimitable grace, laying her hand upon her bosom, said in a very

low tone: "And yet I feel that a woman's heart is beating there. But it

sleeps! Who will one day come to awaken it?"

Carlo did not understand these low whispered words; he understood only

his own passion, his own consuming glow. And anew he commenced his

love-plainings, described to her the torments and fierce joys of

an unreturned love, which is yet too strong and overpowering to be

suppressed. And Natalie listened to him with a dreamy thoughtfulness.

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His words sounded in her ears like a wonderful song from a strange,

distant world which she knew not, but the description of which filled

her heart with a sweet longing, and she could have wept, without knowing

whether it was for sorrow or joy.

"Thus, Natalie," at length said Carlo, entirely exhausted and pale with

emotion--"thus I love you. You must sometime have learned it, and

have known that even angels cannot mingle with mortals unloved and

unpunished. I should finally have been compelled to tell you that you

might torture no longer, in cruel ignorance; that you, learning to

understand your own heart, might tell me whether I have to hope, or only

to fear!"

"Poor Carlo!" murmured Natalie. "You love me, but I do not love you!

This has even now become clear to me; and while you have so glowingly

described the passion, I have for the first time comprehended that I yet

know nothing of that love, and that I can never learn it of you! This is

a misfortune, Carlo, but as we cannot change, we must submit to it."

Carlo drooped his head and sighed. He had no answer to make, and only

murmuringly repeated her words: "Yes, we must submit to it!"

"And why can we not?" she almost cheerfully asked, with that childlike

innocence which never once comprehended the sorrow she was preparing

for Carlo--"why can we not joyfully submit? We both love, only in a

different manner. Let each preserve and persevere in his own manner, and

then all may yet be well!"

"And it shall be well!" exclaimed Carlo, with animation. "You cannot

love me as I love you, but I can devote my whole life to you, and

that will I do! At home, in my charming Naples, a beautiful custom is

prevalent. When one loves, he is adopted as a vapo, a protector, who

follows the steps of the one he loves, who watches before her door when

she sleeps, who secretly lurks at a distance behind her when she leaves

her house, who observes every passer-by in order to preserve her from

every murderous or other inimical attack, or in case of need to hasten

to her assistance. Such a vapo protects her against the jealousy of

her husband or the vengeance of a dismissed lover. Natalie, as I cannot

be your lover, I will be your vapo. Will you accept my services?"




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