Part 33 (1/2)

”A little bit more, but not much, my heart's child. When the people told me that he had disappeared eight days ago, it seemed as if one of the Alps had fallen on my heart, and my limbs trembled so I could go no farther, and I was obliged to sit down upon the stairs and cry bitterly, picturing all sorts of dreadful things to myself.”

”Dreadful things?” asked Marie. ”Oh, Trude, you do not believe that my good, brave Moritz could do any thing sinful and cowardly, like wicked men? You do not think that my beloved--oh, no, no--I know that he is more n.o.ble; he will bear the burden of life as I will, so long as it pleases G.o.d.”

The old woman hung down her head, and humbly folded her hands. ”Forgive me, my child, that I have such weak and sinful thoughts. I will apologize for them in my heart to you and your beloved so long as I live. After I had cried enough, I determined to go to the Gray Cloister, and beg the director to see me!”

”Did you see him to speak with him, dear good Trude?”

”Yes, dear child. I told him I was an aged aunt of Herr Moritz, who had come to Berlin to visit him; and finding that he was absent, I would like to know where he had gone, and, how long he would remain away.”

”Oh, Trude, how clever you are, and how kindly you think of every thing!” cried Marie, embracing her old nurse, and kissing affectionately her sunburnt, wrinkled cheek. ”What did he say?”

”He told me that Herr Moritz had begged permission to be absent fourteen days to take an urgent, unavoidable journey; that ten days had already expired, and he would soon return.”

”Then he will be here in four days, and perhaps will bring hope and aid!

He has gone to seek it; I know and I feel it, though I cannot divine where the a.s.sistance will come from. Oh, Trude, if I could only gain a favorable delay until Moritz returns!”

”Every thing is arranged,” murmured Trude. ”The marriage license is already made out, and Parson Dietrich has promised to be ready at any hour. Herr Ebenstreit has sent the money, doubling the amount required to the 'Invalids' Hospital' at Berlin, so that when the papers of n.o.bility arrive, there--”

”Hus.h.!.+” interrupted Marie, ”do not speak of it. It is fearful to think of, and it crazes me to hear it. I will resort to every extreme. Since my father and mother are deaf to my entreaties, I will try to move him to pity. I have never been able to see him alone; my mother is watchful that an explanation should be impossible between us. I will implore this man to have pity upon me, and confide in him to whom they would sell me.”

Trude shook her head mournfully. ”I fear it will be in vain, dear child.

This man has no heart. I have proved him, and I know it.--Hark the bell rings! Who can it be?”

Both stepped out of the little garret-room to peep over the banister.

Since Marie had been betrothed to the rich banker Ebenstreit, the general had received from his kind wife a servant in pompous livery for his own service. This servant had already opened the door, and Marie heard him announce in a loud voice, ”Herr Ebenstreit!”

”He!” Marie started back with horror. ”He, so early in the morning! this is no accident, Trude. What does it mean? Hus.h.!.+ the servant is coming!”

”I will go down,” whispered Trude; ”perhaps I can hear something.”

Trude hurried away as her young lady glided back into her room, and never glanced at the servant who sprang past her upon the stairs.

”He is a hypocrite and a spy; he has been hired to watch and observe my child, and he will betray her if he discovers any thing.”

The servant announced, with respectful, humble mien, that Herr Ebenstreit had arrived, and Frau von Werrig desired her daughter to descend to the parlor.

”Very well--say that I will come directly.”

The servant remained rubbing his hands in an undecided, embarra.s.sed manner.

”Why do you not go down?” asked Marie. ”Have you any thing further to tell me?”

”I would say,” said he, spying about the room, as if he were afraid some one were listening, ”that if a poor, simple man like myself could be useful to you, and you could confide in me your commissions, I should be too happy to prove to you that Carl Leberecht is an honest fellow, and has a heart, and it hurts his feelings to see the miss suffer so much.”

”I thank you,” said Marie, gently. ”I am glad to feel that you have sympathy for me.”

”If I can be of the least service to you, have the goodness to call me, and give me your commissions.”

”Indeed I will, although I do not believe it practicable.”