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Before us lay the beautiful and picturesque harbor and town of Charlotte Amalie, one of the finest harbors in the West Indies, deep enough to float the largest vessels, with shipyards, dry- docks, and repair shops. From the deck it was a strikingly beautiful picture, formed by three spurs of mountains covered with the greenest of tropical foliage.

It was certain that Minna had stayed for some time at a hotel in Hamburg with that ill-omened man, Herr Dietrich, and that she had spread abroad the story of our separation so unreservedly that the theatrical world in particular had discussed it in a manner that was positively insulting to me. I simply informed Amalie of this, and requested her to spare me any further news of her sister.

There I met a younger sister of Minna's, Amalie Planer, a singer with a pretty voice, who had joined our opera company at Magdeburg for a short time. My report of Minna quite overwhelmed this exceedingly kind- hearted girl. We went to a performance of Fidelia together, during which she, like myself, burst into tears and sobs.

It was the cold of the open window, too, which caused the heart failure that made the doctor's ministrations unnecessary for the old Fraulein. But the notice in the newspapers looked very well "On December 29th, at Schloss Cernogratz, Amalie von Cernogratz, for many years the valued friend of Baron and Baroness Gruebel."

If he took the breaking of his engagement so much to heart that it interfered with his work, how was it possible, we may ask, for him to have made violent love to Bettina Brentano during this summer of 1810? Within two years afterward he was as badly smitten with Amalie Seebald the singer. We can only reiterate the former statement, music was his one passion, in this he was supreme.

There had been his cousin Amalie, whose marriage to another is said to have been the secret spring of sorrow by which Heine's laughter was fed. And there had been others, whose names imaginary, maybe, in that they were doubtless the imaginary names of real women are familiar to all readers of Heines poetry: Seraphine, Angelique, Diane, Hortense, Clarisse, Emma, and so on.

The Sky Wagon droned through Caribbean skies, following a compass course that led to Charlotte Amalie, capital city of the Virgin Islands. With eager interest, the four people in the small plane watched the blue water below. In a few moments they should pass over the island that was their ultimate destination. Rick Brant, in the pilot's seat, turned to the husky, black-haired boy next to him.

Also there was Amalie Sebald, "a nut-brown maid of Berlin," a twenty-five-year-old singer, of beauty and brain. In a letter to Tiedge in 1812, Beethoven says: "Two affectionate words for a farewell would have sufficed me; alas! not even one was said to me!

"That miserable Breslau has composed a picture, 'Monday Morning, or the Choice of a Model. Every one belonging to the studio is in it Julian standing between Amalie and me. It is correctly done, the perspective is good, the likenesses everything. When one can do a thing like that, one cannot fail to become a great artist. You have guessed it, have you not? I am jealous.

But, by now, Louise was at the end of her strength, and Maurice began to fear that he would never get her home; she could with difficulty drag one foot after the other, and had to rest every few minutes, so that it was nearly ten o'clock before they entered the house. In her room, he knelt before her and took off her boots; Amalie carried her supper up on a tray.