"Death is not easily caught of cold!" Arno rejoined, unsympathetically.

"Make haste," he said to the men, who were busy constructing the litter. "Poor old John must be moved as quickly as possible."

"How far are we from Hohenwald?" the Finanzrath asked, when the litter was nearly completed.

"Three-quarters of a league from the castle and half a league from the village."

"Then the manor-house of Grunhagen must be close at hand."

"Grunhagen is not ten minutes' walk."

"Indeed? Then, Arno, I think it would be much wiser to carry John there, and I could manage to hobble there myself."

"You would go to Grunhagen?" Arno asked, and there was surprise as well as disapproval in his tone. "What business has a Hohenwald in Grunhagen? Am I to ask shelter for old John and for you of the Amtsrath Friese or young Kurt von Poseneck, only to meet with a rude refusal, or, what would be worse, with a condescending compliance, which would burden me with an obligation to them?"

"What folly!" Werner declared. "You ought to be above such prejudice, Arno. It speaks ill for your humanity that you insist upon dragging poor old John to Hohenwald."

Here one of the men whom Arno had brought with him advanced, and, taking off his hat, respectfully said, "No offence to the Herr Finanzrath, but we cannot take old John to Grunhagen."

"What do you mean?" the Finanzrath angrily inquired. "Would you disobey orders?"

"Certainly not," the man replied, exchanging a glance with his fellows.

"We are old soldiers, and know how to obey always, but indeed we could not answer it to the master or to old John himself if we took him to Grunhagen. If he had his senses he would be sure to say that he would rather die than be carried to Grunhagen. And, besides, if we do take him farther, we get the doctor sooner, for our Dr. Bruhn in Hohenwald would not go to Grunhagen for the world; when they want a doctor there they have to send to A----, and that is too far."

Arno nodded approvingly to the man. "You are right, Kunz; we will take John to the Hohenwald village. Lift him carefully and lay him on the cushions, and let us be off instantly."

"But, Arno, what is to become of me and of Fraulein Muller?" Werner asked, plaintively.

Anna had been no idle spectator during this time; she had helped the men to arrange the cushions on the litter, and was holding a torch to light them as they lifted the unconscious John upon it, listening the while with surprise to the conversation between the brothers. She had been disgusted with the Finanzrath's selfishness in desiring to be carried when his foot was evidently not severely hurt; and Arno's stern refusal to carry the wounded man to Grunhagen had also impressed her disagreeably. She had no desire to take any part in the discussion, but now, when the Finanzrath asked of Arno what was to become of her, she hastily interposed with, "I shall carry one of the torches, since I cannot, unfortunately, render any more important a.s.sistance; there is no occasion to waste any thought upon me."

Arno looked at her with a surprised but kindly air. "Brava!" he said.

"You are brave, and I trust can walk the half-league to the village; if you are very tired I will a.s.sist you. You, Werner, must help yourself.

If you cannot walk with us, creep back into the carriage and shelter yourself from the rain until I can send you a.s.sistance. And now on to Hohenwald!"

"No, Herr von Hohenwald; to Grunhagen," a strong, manly voice was now heard to say.

The voice was Kurt von Poseneck's; he emerged from the darkness into the torchlight, and, advancing towards Arno and the Finanzrath, courteously informed them that he had just heard the news of the accident in the quarry, and had instantly given orders to have a carriage prepared, while he had hurried hither to entreat the gentlemen to turn towards Grunhagen, where they would be cordially welcome, and where apartments were already prepared for them. The injured coachman, too, should have every care bestowed upon him, and a carriage should be instantly sent to fetch Dr. Bruhn to Grunhagen.

Kurt spoke so kindly, so cordially, that even Arno could not help for a moment forgetting his prejudice against the Posenecks as he thanked the young man for his proffered hospitality, which, however, he declined.

In vain did Werner add his entreaties to Kurt's. Arno refused to yield, and cut short all further discussion by ordering the men to proceed with the litter.

Werner was very indignant at his brother's obstinacy. "Such unreasonableness is inconceivable!" he exclaimed; "but you shall not force me, Arno, to share your folly. I accept your invitation gratefully, Herr von Poseneck, for Fraulein Muller and myself; we will return with you to Grunhagen and accept your hospitality."

"You must not speak for me, Herr Finanzrath," Anna protested. "I promised to be at Hohenwald this evening, and I shall keep my word."

"But, Fraulein Muller, you cannot surely persist in walking to Hohenwald in this weather? I will engage to excuse your delay to my father."

"I need no excuse, Herr Finanzrath," Anna replied.

In vain did Werner expend his eloquence in entreaties and representations. She carried one of the torches and walked beside the litter towards Hohenwald. She stoutly braved the storm; the wind blowing in her face cooled her burning temples, and she experienced a sense of strange satisfaction when, upon looking back, she found that the quarry was already so far in the distance that the light of the torch left with the Finanzrath gleamed like a faint spark in the black darkness of the night.

The castle clock had struck eleven, and the Freiherr von Hohenwald, who was usually rolled into his bedroom at ten precisely, was still sitting in the s.p.a.cious garden-room. He was not in a good humour, as was manifested by the frown upon his forehead, which even Celia's cajoleries could not smooth. The girl was seated on a low chair beside him, endeavouring in vain to win him to cheerfulness. Sure as she usually was of an affectionate reply to her questions, to-night he would not be amiable. She had been reading aloud to him; but even that did not please him. He took the book from her, grumblingly declaring that she was inattentive, that her emphasis was all wrong; she was thinking, of course, of the new governess, on whose account the whole house was turned upside down.

As he spoke, the Freiherr glanced angrily at the table in the centre of the room spread for four people. "It capped the climax," he added, peevishly, "for Werner to tell me it was not the thing to smoke in ladies' society, I am not to be hectored after that fashion, however.

Bring me my meerschaum!"

Celia sprang up and brought him his large meerschaum, with a lighted match. He usually rewarded her for this service with a loving smile, but to-night he sat puffing out clouds of smoke without a word, until he drew out his huge gold watch and said, "Ten minutes after eleven!

This household is topsy-turvy. It was not enough that Werner should insanely go to meet the woman at the station himself, but that fool Arno must needs run after him. There stands the table waiting,--nine o'clock is the supper-hour, and it is now nearly midnight."

"But you had your supper at the right time, papa," said Celia.

"How would it have helped matters to have me kept waiting? It is enough that all the rest of the household suffers because of you and this governess. It was the stupidest thing I ever did to listen to Werner.

What's the use of your having a governess? Your manners are quite fine enough for Castle Hohenwald, for Arno, and for me."

"Still it was very wise in you, papa, to follow Werner's advice. I can learn a great deal from a good governess, and some time, I suppose, I shall meet those who demand more than Arno or you."

"Oho! the wind has changed, then? So Werner has converted you too!"

Celia blushed. Werner had not even attempted the conversion of which his father accused him; but she did not say one word in his defence,--she could not tell her father that it was Kurt von Poseneck who had caused her change of opinion.

"Where can they be?" the Freiherr exclaimed, impatiently; "they ought to have been here by ten o'clock at the latest."

"I hope there has been no accident."

"Nonsense! The road is perfectly good, and since Arno chose to go and meet them with torches an accident is impossible. There is just as much pother about this governess as if she were a lady of distinction."

"Do not be unjust, papa! If old John, who has not driven over that road for so long, should have missed the way and got into the Grunhagen quarry, and any accident had happened to Werner or the lady, you never would forgive yourself for scolding Arno for going to meet them, Only hear how the wind howls and the rain beats against the windows. For my part, I am almost dead with anxiety lest an accident has happened. But, thank Heaven, no--there they are; I hear the carriage rattling over the stones of the court-yard."

Celia started up, and would have hurried out to meet the arrivals, but a peremptory word from her father detained her. "Stay here!" he exclaimed. "There is such a thing as being too kind. It is more than enough that Werner brings her from the station, that Arno goes to meet her, and that the table and you all are kept waiting for her. As she herself wrote, she is to be your paid companion and teacher. Remember that, child. Any undue familiarity is very undesirable."

Celia tossed her head and a reply was upon her tongue, but as she looked at her father she thought it wiser not to provoke him further, so she bit her lips and obeyed in silence. At the same time she privately determined that neither her father's command nor her brother's advice should influence her conduct towards the governess.

Her patience was put to the proof, for several minutes elapsed before the hall-doors were thrown open and Arno appeared, ushering in a lady, whom he presented. "Fraulein Anna Muller. My father, my sister Celia."

This introduction he evidently considered quite sufficient, for he instantly turned from her, and, taking his father's hand, said, "We have kept you waiting a long while, father--you shall hear why when you have welcomed Fraulein Muller. I have much to tell."

The Freiherr made no reply; during the presentation he had not removed his pipe from his mouth, but when Anna approached with a slight courtesy, and, in a soft, rich voice, said, "Forgive me, Herr Baron, for having been the involuntary cause of so much disturbance," he instantly laid it aside and made an attempt to rise from his chair in answer to her words. It was many years since he had exchanged a word with a lady, but the memory of the time when he lived in society stirred within him as he looked at Anna. He had supposed that a negligent word of greeting would suffice for a governess, after all only a kind of upper servant, but he saw before him a lady to whom he involuntarily paid a mach greater degree of respect. It was not Anna's extraordinary beauty that thus impressed him, although he found it admirable, but a certain indescribable something which characterized her, and which her unsuitable dress could not conceal. She had left her drenched clothing at Inspector Hauk's, in the village of Hohenwald, and had borrowed a dark woollen dress of his wife's, which, although much too large for her slender figure, could not disguise its beautiful proportions.

A few minutes previously the Freiherr had not been by any means inclined to receive kindly the disturber of his domestic peace, but as he looked into Anna's pale face, and thought he saw an entreaty for kindness in her fine eyes, the expression of irritation vanished from his features, and he said, very kindly and simply, "You are heartily welcome, Fraulein!"

These were the first words that Anna heard from the dreaded woman-hater, the stern Freiherr. Her future pupil's reception of her was far more effusive; she had taken Celia's heart by storm. While Anna was speaking to the old Baron, the girl stood rapt in admiration of the stranger's exquisite smile and melodious voice, and when she turned from the father to the daughter, the latter threw her arms around her in a sudden burst of girlish enthusiasm, which conveyed a far more cordial welcome than could have been given in words. Anna gently kissed her brow and felt inexpressibly pleased by the manner of Celia's greeting, founding upon it the brightest hopes for the future.

And what did the Freiherr say to this infringement of the rule he had laid down but a few short minutes before? He was not in the least angry; he smiled benignantly, and watched with great satisfaction the two charming girls, the governess, apparently but a few years the elder of the two, and his darling, his will-o'-the-wisp. Paternal pride whispered to him that, beautiful as the stranger was, she was no lovelier than Celia.

Arno by no means shared his father's satisfaction. His face grew dark as he looked at Anna. What magical charm did this stranger, whom Werner had introduced among them, possess, to enable her thus, by a single word, to transform his father, prompting him to utter that "heartily welcome," and now so completely winning over Celia, who had naturally rebelled against the idea of a governess? Had she not even made a far deeper impression upon himself than he was willing to admit? She must be an adept in the art of pleasing.

"Now you shall have supper," said the Freiherr; and Arno rang the bell to have it served immediately, and then pushed his father's chair up to the table. It was only when old Franz had placed the dishes on the table that Celia observed that Werner's place was empty. Her father noticed this at the same time, and they asked, simultaneously, "Where is Werner?"

"Where you would least suspect him to be, father," replied Arno. "The Finanzrath is so far exalted above the traditional prejudices of his family that he has accepted Herr Kurt von Poseneck's invitation, and is at this moment either calmly supping with the Amtsrath Friese and Herr von Poseneck, or comfortably tucked in bed at Grunhagen."