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Updated: June 9, 2025
He wore Kolbielsky's livery; from his dress he appeared to be his servant, yet he was not the man whom he had had in his service for years. Kolbielsky had the strength to go a few steps forward. "Who are you?" he asked in a low tone. "Good heavens, who are you?" The youth flung off his hat and rushed toward Kolbielsky. "Who am I? I?" he cried exultingly. "Look at me and say who I am."
Meet them with a joyous face; let no look betray that you are suffering! They are coming, they are coming! Farewell, sweet, radiant life! Farewell, Leonore! Love of my heart, farewell!" The inner door was opened Kolbielsky advanced to meet his executioners with proud composure and a smiling face. But what did this mean?
He had said: "My week of exile will begin from this hour, and the first festival will be when I again clasp you in my arms." This week had expired yesterday, and Kolbielsky had not come to clasp his loved one in his arms again.
The virtuous Baron von Kolbielsky would certainly be very much astonished if he made the discovery that your major-domo has the honor of being your father, and that the father of the proud baroness is no other than the well-known spy Schulmeister, who has rendered the Emperor Napoleon so many useful services, and whose name Kolbielsky has so often mentioned in my presence with scornful execration.
For three days she had not seen him, had had no message from him. But it was not this alone that disturbed and tortured Leonore. She had also had no news from Kolbielsky, though the week which he had named as the necessary duration of their parting had expired the day before.
Baron von Kolbielsky had been forced to attend it and was then conveyed to Vienna to spend dreary, lonely days at the police station in the Krebsgasse. He had vainly asked at least to be led before his judges to receive his sentence.
An hour later an officer of justice arrived to announce to Kolbielsky his change of sentence to perpetual imprisonment and inform him that the carriage was waiting to convey him to Leopoldstadt. Kolbielsky now desired to see the priest whose ministration he had formerly refused, and when, half an hour later, he entered the carriage, Leonore was his wife.
And I oh, God, I loved you I yielded, I remained. My father vowed that, if I made him rich, he would set me free. I discovered a conspiracy. You were not among the accomplices I betrayed it. I wanted to serve you by the treachery and I plunged you into ruin." Tears gushed from her eyes; the sobs so long repressed burst forth and stifled the words on her lips. Kolbielsky no longer wept.
Neither executioner, priest, nor judge appeared, but a young man, wrapped in a cloak, with his head covered by a broad-brimmed hat that shaded his face. Who was it? Who could it be? Kolbielsky stood staring at him, without the strength to ask a question. The young man also leaned for a moment, utterly crushed and powerless, against the wall beside the door.
If you do not swear, solemnly, swear, to continue, without wavering or delay, to play the part which you perform with so much talent and success, I will await Baron Kolbielsky here and tell him who you are." "You will not do that," she shrieked, throwing herself from the divan upon her knees; "no, father, you will not. You will have pity on me, for I will confess it to you: I love him.
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