CHAPTER VII.
THE REVELATION.
The fatal Thursday had passed, Wednesday had come, yet Leonore had received no tidings from her father.

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.

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.

She had expected him all through the day, all through the night, and the cause of her present deep anxiety was not solicitude about her father, the desire to learn the result of the conspiracy discovered; no, it was only the longing for _him_, the terrible dread that some accident might have befallen Kolbielsky.
Why did he not come, since he had so positively promised to return at the end of a week?
Was it really only a coincidence that the day which he had fixed for his return was the selfsame one on which the conspiracy formed by Napoleon's foes was to break forth?
What if he had had a share in the conspiracy?
If he had deceived her, if--But no, no, that was wholly impossible--that could not be! She knew the names of the conspirators, especially those of the heads and leaders; she knew that Kolbielsky's name had not once been mentioned during the whole discussion between them.