"Yes, Herr Hauk," he said, with hardly-won composure. "You had best do so." Then seeing the man's discontented expression, he added, "I will myself endeavour to encounter Herr von Poseneck, but I do not desire any one to spy upon his movements. Let him walk as much as he pleases in the Hohenwald forest; I am sure that no ill will towards us brings him here, and I will not have him interfered with. Tell this to the people, Hauk, and bear in mind what I say. My father's desire that all disputes with the Grunhageners shall be avoided must be strictly complied with. Good-afternoon, Hauk."

"As you please, Herr Baron," the Inspector replied, with a bow, as he took his departure.

Long after he was gone Arno stood leaning against the trunk of the oak, uncertain what to do. Was Kurt at this very moment perhaps seated beside Anna on the bench near the lake? Jealousy impelled him to discover whether his suspicions were correct. In vain did he represent to himself that he had no right to spy upon Anna's actions. He strode through the wood and soon reached the borders of the broad Hohenwald forest road, which he was obliged to cross in order to reach the lake.

Here, as he was making his way through the bushes that lined it on either side, he heard a voice that thrilled him; it was Anna's. He could not distinguish what she said, nor the words of the reply, which was given in clear, manly tones. He cautiously proceeded a few steps farther, until, parting the bushes, he obtained a clear view of the broad road. His worst fears were confirmed: Kurt and Anna were slowly walking along it engaged in earnest conversation. They approached the spot where Arno stood concealed; a few more steps and he should hear every word that was said, for they did not suspect a listener near. For a single instant a wild desire possessed Arno to penetrate Anna's mystery; he leaned forward as far as was possible without discovering himself, but the next moment he rose superior to the disgraceful temptation. His cheek flushed at the thought that he had been deaf though but for an instant to the dictates of honour. Silently and hastily he withdrew, moderating his pace only when he could no longer hear the sound of voices. As he returned to the castle he felt that although he had heard nothing he had seen enough.

Lucie parted from Kurt as his friend, and as she slowly walked back to the castle she reflected upon the perils encompa.s.sing the people who had become so dear to her. She pondered how to put the Freiherr upon his guard without betraying Celia's secret, and how at the same time to influence the old man to relinquish his foolish prejudice against Kurt.

She could hardly warn him directly, but could it not be done indirectly through Werner, perhaps? If she should inform the Finanzrath that his connection with Repuin and other French agents was no longer a secret, that his movements were watched, that he was in danger of arrest, and that his presence in Castle Hohenwald imperilled the safety of his father and brother,--if she begged him to leave the castle, would he not comply with her advice?

Celia hastened to meet her friend; she had not been able to remain within-doors. Arrived at the castle, the girl threw Pluto's bridle to old John and hurried to her room to change her dress, thinking that she would await Anna in their sitting-room; but, although the windows there were all wide open, the confinement seemed to stifle her; she wanted air,--not the air of park or garden, but that of the cool, fragrant forest. As she issued from the gate of the court-yard and was just about to turn into the broad forest road she encountered Arno, and was hurrying past him, longing to see Anna and hear what she had said to Kurt, when he detained her, saying sternly, "Where are you going?"

"That is not your affair," she pertly answered her brother's harsh question. "I might as well ask you, Where have you been?"

"I have been in the forest."

"And I am going to the forest."

She would have pa.s.sed him, but he still detained her. "Do you usually select this road for your afternoon ride?"

Celia blushed. What did he mean by the question? Did Arno know anything of her meetings with Kurt? With feminine evasion she hastily rejoined, "Why should I always choose this tiresome broad road?"

"Why, indeed? How long since you returned from your ride?"

"About a quarter of an hour ago," she answered, frankly.

"And did you ride on the broad road to-day?"

"What a foolish question! Let me go, Arno! How can it possibly interest you when or wh.o.r.e I ride?"

But Arno still held her hand fast, seeming not to notice her embarra.s.sment. He gazed darkly down the forest road. If Celia pursued it she would meet Kurt and Anna together. Such a discovery would be but a merited punishment for Anna, but what impression would it produce upon his innocent sister? A second glance along the road rea.s.sured him,--Anna was slowly approaching the castle alone. He let go Celia's hand, relieved of an ugly dread lest Anna should have confided to her pupil her love-affair with Poseneck. That Celia knew nothing about it was clear from her replies to him; the "will-o'-the-wisp" was so frank a creature.

So soon as she found herself free, Celia ran towards Anna, bestowing not another thought upon Arno, who went his way. Throwing her arms around her friend, she whispered, as she caressed her tenderly, "At last you are come! My darling, darling Anna! Now all is well, and my conscience is once more clear."

"You ought to have had confidence in me," Anna said, in a tone of gentle reproof.

"Oh, I have often said that to myself. I have repeatedly determined to tell you all, but I was so afraid lest you would be angry, and perhaps forbid my meeting Kurt, and so--I cannot live without just saying a few words to him every day."

"You must try it, my dear Celia; you must not meet Herr von Poseneck in the forest again."

"I thought you would say that!" Celia exclaimed. "I knew it, but you are mistaken if you think I shall obey you. I am not a child; I know what I am doing. Kurt is my betrothed, and I have a right to meet him.

But no, Anna dear, I will not be angry with you, only do not ask that of me. If you think it wrong for me to see Kurt alone in the forest,--and I have sometimes been afraid that it was,--then come with me; we have no secret from you; only you must not ask me not to see him again,--I cannot obey you: and if you will not go to the forest with me I must go by myself."

"It will be of no use. Herr von Poseneck has promised me that he will not meet you in the forest again."

"That is detestable of you,--detestable!" Celia exclaimed, indignantly.

She had been so utterly unused to control that she was really angry, and it was only after a long and grave explanation upon Lucie's part that the girl was brought to see that her friend's counsel was dictated by the truest motives and an earnest desire for her happiness. At last, however, she agreed to be guided entirely by her "darling Anna," and the compact was sealed with a kiss.

Relieved to have been successful with Celia, Lucie now applied herself to the second task she had undertaken, and, instead of entering the castle, turned into the garden, where the Finanzrath was usually to be found towards evening.

"Are we going to the garden?" Celia asked, surprised. "We cannot talk together there, for Werner, as you know, will instantly join us, and we shall not be able to get rid of him."

"I am going purposely to meet him this afternoon," Lucie replied, "and I beg you to leave me with him when he joins us."

"Have you more secrets with him?" Celia asked, fretfully.

"I must speak with him," was Lucie's calm reply. "I promised Herr von Poseneck to warn your father of the danger that threatens him. I cannot do this directly, since I cannot say whence comes my information."

"And you are going to warn him through Werner?" the girl asked, shaking her head. "Don't attempt it, Anna dear; you do not know Werner,--he will not believe you; he thinks he knows more than any one else. Do not have any confidences with Werner; speak to Arno,--he is true and trustworthy; he will find a means to put papa on his guard and to force Werner to go away."

"I must speak with the Finanzrath," Lucie insisted; "do not try to dissuade me, dear child; I cannot help it."

Celia said no more; she silently accompanied Lucie into the garden, and walked beside her along the winding paths until, as had been foreseen, Werner joined them, when she lingered behind to pluck a flower, and then, turning into a side-path, left her brother and her friend to themselves.

Werner greeted Lucie after his usual smooth, courteous fashion; but she interrupted the flow of his complimentary speeches by saying, in a very grave tone, "Our meeting this afternoon, Herr Finanzrath, is owing to no chance. I came into the garden expressly to find you, for I have an important communication to make to you."

Werner's attention was aroused; Lucie frankly admitted that she had come in search of him. What could she have to tell him? And Celia had evidently left them together intentionally. She could have done so only by Lucie's desire. A secret hope that his endeavours to obtain the beautiful woman's favour were about to prove more successful flashed across his vain soul, but vanished as he looked into his companion's grave and even stern face. "I am extremely happy, madame, in receiving this proof of your confidence," he said, "and await with eagerness what you have to tell me."

"It is of no agreeable nature," Lucie went on; "but I will go directly to the point. You are in great peril, Herr Finanzrath; your connection with Count Repuin has aroused suspicion that you are of the number of French agents who are at work here, in the interest of the French Emperor, endeavoring to effect the dissolution of the treaty that unites the South German states and those of the North German alliance, with Prussia, and who are plotting against Prussia among the people as well as in the army."

Werner stayed his steps and looked searchingly into Lucie's face. His cheek grew a trifle paler, and his voice was not quite so firm and clear as usual, as he replied, with forced composure, "Your information is indeed startling, madame; I am excessively grateful to you for it, but you must permit me one question. Whence comes your knowledge that so foolish and ungrounded a suspicion attaches to me?"

"There are all-sufficient reasons, Herr Finanzrath, why I cannot answer your question and reveal to you the source of my information, but I can a.s.sure you that my warning is sent you by a sincere friend of yours and of your family, who is well aware of the necessity for it. But let me proceed, and then you can judge for yourself of the magnitude of the peril menacing you."

"I am all ear, madame."

There was a dash of contempt in his tone, and Lucie saw that her refusal to mention the source of her information had shaken his belief in its truth; but she went on quietly: "The suspicion of which I have told you, whether it be well founded or not----"

"Do you doubt me, madame?"

"I have no right to form an opinion, and there is no reason why, if formed, I should express it. Of course, since you declare the suspicion unfounded, I have no choice but to believe you; nevertheless, it exists, and it attaches not only to you, but to your father and brother. The authorities are convinced that your relatives know of your schemes, and aid and abet them, and that Castle Hohenwald is a centre for treasonable plots and conspiracies. The castle is already under surveillance; how strict this is I cannot say, nor whether it extends to the letters sent from here, but I know that it exists, and that the authorities have it in mind to crush any treasonable scheming before it becomes dangerous, by the arrest of the entire Hohenwald family. I think, Herr Finanzrath, that under these circ.u.mstances you will see that you owe it both to your family and to yourself to leave the castle as soon as possible. Your presence here imperils your father's safety.

He will, on the other hand, be left undisturbed, though not un.o.bserved, if you, the cause of this _groundless_ suspicion, absent yourself from Castle Hohenwald for a while. Your father's age and infirmity, his seclusion from the world, will shield him from all annoyance as soon as you are away, since it certainly must be the aim of the authorities to avoid exciting indignation in Saxony by any useless arrests. This is all that I had to say to you, Herr Finanzrath. I hope that my well-meant warning will effect its purpose, and that you will, by a speedy departure from Castle Hohenwald, both protect your relatives from the danger of arrest and insure your own safety."

Werner had listened in silence, an evil sneer playing about his lips the while. "Then my departure from Castle Hohenwald is the purpose of your communication, madame?" he asked, watching Lucie with keen scrutiny.

"It is; I confidently hope that your departure will remove all danger."

"Indeed? You are extremely kind. I really cannot be sufficiently grateful to you for your care, but I must pray you to fill the measure of your kindness by telling me to what good friend you owe your information, which has the air of proceeding directly from the Chancellor himself, if, indeed, it be not the fabrication of an idle fancy or of a well-laid scheme."

"I do not understand you, Herr Finanzrath," Lucie asked, amazed. "Do you really imagine I could wish to deceive you?"

"Let me beg you again for the name of your informant."

"Let me repeat that I cannot, or rather will not, give it to you; you have no right to demand it of me."

"I do not demand it, madame; I do not even desire it, but perhaps you will allow me to mention it to you myself."

"You cannot know it!"

"But I can guess it. I see through the game that is playing with me.