That nightⒶ I had a terrible misfortune. The way it came about was this. I was so unutterably happy and so unspeakably unhappy that my life was become an enchanted ecstasy and a crushing burden. I did not know what to do, and took to drink. Merely for

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that evening.Ⓐ It was by Doangivadam's suggestion that I did this. He did not know what the matter was, and I did not tell him; but he could see that something was the matter and wanted regulating, and in his judgment it would be well to try drink, for it might do good and couldn't do harm.Ⓐ He was ready to do any kindness for me, because I had been 44's friend; and he loved to have me talk about 44, and mourn with him over his burning. I couldn't tell him 44 was alive again,Ⓐ for the mysterious check fellⒶ upon my tongue whenever I tried to. Very well; we were drinking and mourning together,Ⓐ and I took a shade too much and it biased my judgment.Ⓐ I was not what one could callⒶ at all far gone, but I had reached the heedless stage, the unwatchful stage, when we parted,Ⓐ and I forgot to make myself invisible! And so, eager and unafraid, I entered the boudoir of my bride confident of the gladⒶ welcome which would of course have been mine if I had come as Martin von Giesbach, whom she loved, instead of as August Feldner, whom she cared nothing about. The boudoir wasⒶ dark, but the bedroom door was standing open, and through it I saw an enchantingⒶ picture and stopped to contemplate it and enjoy it. It was Marget. She was sitting before a pier glass, snowily arrayed inⒶ her dainty nightie, with her left side toward me; and upon her delicate profile and her shining cataract of dark red hair streaming unvexed to the floor a strong light was falling. Her maid was busilyⒶ grooming her with brush and comb, and gossiping, and now and then Marget smiled up at her and she smiled back, and I smiled at bothⒶ in sympathy and good-fellowship out of the dusk, and altogether it was a gracious and contenting condition of things, and my heart sang with happiness. But the picture was not quite complete, not wholly perfect—there was a pair of lovely blue eyes that persistently failed to turn my way. I thought I would go nearer and correct that defect. Supposing thatⒶ I was invisible I tranquillyⒶ stepped just within the room and stood there; at the same moment Marget's mother appeared in the further door;Ⓐ and also at the same momentⒶ the three indignant women discovered me andⒶ began to shriek and scream in the one breath!

I fled the place.Ⓐ I went to my quarters, resumed my fleshⒶ, and sat mournfully down to wait for trouble. It was not long coming. I

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expected the master to call, and was not disappointed.Ⓐ He came in anger—which was natural,—but to my reliefⒶ and surprise I soon found that his denunciations were not for me! What an uplift it was! No, they were all for my Duplicate—all that the masterⒶ wanted from me was a denial that I was the person who had profaned the sanctity of his niece's bedchamber. When he said that . . . . well, it took the most of the buoyancy out of the uplift. If he had stopped there and challenged me to testify, I—but he didn't. He went right on recounting and re-recounting the details of the exasperating episode, never suspecting that they were not news to me, and all the while he freely lashed the Duplicate and took quiteⒶ for granted that he was the criminal and that my character placed me above suspicion. This was all so pleasant to my ear that I was glad to let him continue: indeed the more he abused Schwarz the better I liked it, and soon I was feeling grateful that he had neglected to ask for my testimony. He was very bitter, and when I perceived that he was minded to handle my detestable rival with severity I rejoiced exceedingly in my secret heart. Also I becameⒶ evilly eager to keep him in that mind, and hoped for chances to that end.

It appeared that both the mother and the maid were positive that the Duplicate was the offender. The master kept dwelling upon that, and never referring to Marget as a witness, a thing that seemed so strange to me that at last I ventured to call his attention to the omission.

“Oh, her unsupported opinion is of no consequence!” he said, indifferently. “She says it was you—which is nonsense, in the face of the other evidence and your denial. She is only a child—how can she know one of you from the other? To satisfy her I said I would bring your denial; as for Emil Schwarz's testimony I don't want it and shouldn't value it. These Duplicates are ready to say anything that comes into their dreamy heads. This one is a good enoughⒶ fellow, there's no deliberateⒶ harm in him, but—oh, as a witness he is not to be considered. He has made a blunder—in another person it would have been a crime—and by consequence my niece is compromised, for sure, for the maid can't keep the secret; poor

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thing, she's like all her kind—a secret, in a lady's-maidⒶ,Ⓐ is water in a basket. Oh, yes, it's true that this Duplicate has merely committed a blunder, but all the same my mind is made up as to one thing . . . . .Ⓐ the bell is tolling midnight, it marks a change for him . . . . .Ⓐ when I am through with him to-day, let him blunder as much as he likes he'll not compromise my niece again!”

I suppose it was wicked to feel such joy as I felt, but I couldn't help it. To have that hated rival put summarily out of my wayⒶ and my road left free—the thought was intoxicating! The master asked me—as a formality—to deny that I was the person who had invadedⒶ Marget's chamber.

I promptly furnished the denial. It had always cost me shame to tell an injurious lie before, but I told this one without a pang, so eager was I to ruin the creature that stood between me and my worshipped little wife. The master took his leave, then, saying—

“It is sufficient. It is all I wanted. He shall marry the girl before the sun sets!”

Good heavens! in trying to ruin the Duplicate, I had only ruined myself.Ⓐ