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"You weep not,forward

with restless haste

"No, no, I neither weep nor tremble, for I a closer to ainst ht will spread its protecting veil

over us, and God will be our conductor and safeguard! I shall save you,

child!"

The steed continues his onward course

The child sly reclines upon the boso sun sheds its red parting beams

Like a phantom flies he onward, like a phantom he disappears there on

the border of the forest Was it only a delusive appearance, a fata

breeze raises the elic brow is still seen resting upon the bosom of

the count

No, it is no dream, it is truth and reality!

Like a storm-wind flies the count over hill and heath, and on his bosohter of the empress!