Lucie smiled in reply; she had done enough for to-day, and Celia's grateful look thanked her. She arose, and going to the piano unasked, sang one of the old man's favourite songs, which would have won him to forgiveness even had he been angry.

The tones of her voice had just died away when old Franz entered the room with the post-bag, which he said had just been brought to the castle by an extra messenger, and must contain news of importance.

The Freiherr eagerly opened it, and seizing the newspapers, which, with a few letters for the Finanzrath, were all that it contained, searched them for the expected news of importance. This he found in the first one that he opened; it contained the telegram reporting the abdication of the Crown Prince of Hohenzollern. With eyes sparkling with joy the Freiherr read it aloud. "Thank G.o.d!" he exclaimed. "I trust we have done with this miserable war. Franz, bring a bottle of champagne in honour of the good news!"

"I must leave you this evening; my duty recalls me to Dresden, as I learn from this letter," Werner said, after having eagerly looked over his letters.

"What! this evening?" the Freiherr asked, and, although the question expressed surprise, there was no regret in his tone.

"I must obey the call of duty," Werner replied. "While Franz orders the carriage I will pack my portmanteau, and I hope I shall be in time to catch the night train."

He shook hands with his father, and then turned to Lucie, who was standing near the window. "I comply with your wish, and leave you; forgive me," he whispered; adding aloud, "Have you any commands for Dresden, Fraulein Muller? No?" as she answered by a gentle shake of the head. "I am sorry, but pray remember that you may always command me as you please. Adieu, Celia; be diligent and good, you little romp. Adieu, Arno; I trust you will forget, as I do, that there have lately been some differences of opinion between us; upon reflection I see that you were right in the last conversation we had together, this letter has convinced me."

He offered Arno his hand, but the latter refused to take it. "I have no confidence in you," he said, in too low a tone to be heard by the others. "I do not know your reason for this sudden departure, but I am sure that it is not regard for the safety of your family."

"Are you then implacable?"

"I refuse to reply to deceit with deceit."

"What is the matter, boys? Do not quarrel when you are taking leave of each other," the old Freiherr interposed; and Werner, with a shrug, let fall the hand he had offered his brother, and, with another general "adieu," left the room.

In his own apartment, he packed a few necessaries in his portmanteau, devoting all the time he had to a careful disposition of his papers. It was not until he was certain that not a sc.r.a.p of writing was left either in desk or writing-table that he locked his portmanteau and gave it to old Franz, who came to announce that the carriage was waiting.

As he drove off, just in time to catch the night train, those whom he left behind him at Hohenwald by no means experienced the usual relief felt in his absence. They did not believe in the reason a.s.signed by him for his hasty departure, and it aroused in his father's mind suspicions that he was more deeply implicated in rebellious plots than he had hinted. No one of the little circle could throw off the gloom that oppressed all, and the old Freiherr was rolled into his bedroom much earlier than usual.

In the course of the next few days the political horizon again darkened; all Germany keenly felt the insult offered to the King of Prussia by the French Emperor, and was ready to resent it.

"Disgraceful!" Arno exclaimed, after reading the account of it aloud in the newspapers, "This is enough to make every German forget all petty jealousies and prejudices. We should be one nation in the struggle that France thus forces upon us. I am quite sure, father, that you will gladly see me leave you to take my part in the war that now seems inevitable for the fatherland."

"Go, and G.o.d speed you, my son! Only cowards and traitors can hesitate now!"

The Freiherr spoke with profound emotion, regarding with paternal pride the while the son in whom he delighted. Celia threw her arms around her brother's neck and kissed him tenderly. "You are my own darling Arno!"

she exclaimed; "the best and truest fellow in the world!"

And Lucie? She bestowed upon Arno a smile that fairly intoxicated him and impelled him to offer her his hand, in which for one fleeting instant she placed her own.

The small circle at Castle Hohenwald presented a picture in miniature of the sentiments of the entire country at this time, and every day's developments served but to increase the patriotic enthusiasm everywhere. No sooner did the cry resound from Paris, "On to Berlin!"

than it was decided that as soon as war was formally declared Arno should apply for re-admission to the army, and with a view to so doing he set about arranging affairs on the estate so that his absence might cause his invalid father as little annoyance as possible. Those cares kept him from home almost every day,--it was only in the evenings that he could make one in the family circle; but these evenings, when his father's welcome was so affectionate, Celia's so enthusiastic, and Lucie's so fall of gentleness and sympathy, more than indemnified him for the hard labour of the day. Only one drawback marred the pleasure they gave him, and this was the manner in which he was constantly reminded by Lucie herself of his last _tete-a-tete_ with her. What reason could she have for perpetually dragging in Kurt von Poseneck as a subject for conversation, when she could not but perceive that it was distasteful both to the old Freiherr and to himself? This the Freiherr frankly declared many times, but considerate as Lucie usually was of his wishes, on this point she paid no regard to them. With persistent obstinacy she made use of every available opportunity to refer to Kurt, to extol his admirable qualities, to describe his adventures in America, in short, to depict him as a young man of distinguished qualities both of mind and of heart.

Of course Arno never dreamed that Celia had supplied Fraulein Muller with her accurate knowledge of Herr von Poseneck's life, and it seemed to him excessively strange that she should be so well informed concerning a man whom, according to her own declaration, she had seen but twice. This contradiction struck the Freiherr also, and he expressed his surprise at it, but Lucie only smiled and replied, "Oh, I have a private source of information which I know just how far to trust. I do not mean to describe Herr von Poseneck as an actual angel in beard and moustache, but he certainly is a charming fellow, whom you, Herr Baron, would especially like if you only knew him, as I sincerely wish you did."

Celia grew crimson at this reply, but, fortunately, no one save Lucie noticed this. The old Freiherr shook his head and declared that he felt "no desire to know any Poseneck," but, nevertheless, it was plain to be seen that Lucie by her persistency had aroused in him a species of interest, and finally one evening, when she had been recounting some of Kurt's war adventures in America, he remarked that that Poseneck must be a brave fellow since he had attained the rank of major so soon.

Arno was not so easily cured of his prejudice against Kurt, Lucie's constant reference to whom was utterly inexplicable, and at times roused within him the bitterest jealousy. He was worried and anxious, too, with regard to Werner, from whom nothing was heard after his departure. Whether the Finanzrath were really in Dresden neither his father nor his brother knew, and when Arno at times saw accounts in the newspapers of the arrest of persons suspected of being agents of the French government here and there in Germany, he could not but fear lest a like fate might overtake Werner, and he knew that such a disgrace would crush his father to the earth.

CHAPTER XVI.

On one of the last days in July an unusual crowd thronged the platform of the railway station of A----, looking eagerly for the train, in which, so crowded was it sure to be at this time with troops, it was difficult for civilians to find places. On this particular occasion there were only three pa.s.sengers for A----, and these had been obliged to content themselves with places in a baggage-wagon, every carriage being crowded with troops in process of transportation. As soon as these three stepped upon the platform they were besieged with questions of all kinds from the throng of men waiting there,--questions which seemed especially annoying to one of the three, an apparently choleric, elderly gentleman, who elbowed his way right and left through the crowd, now and then giving vent to his irritation in a good round oath, as he declared, "I know nothing and care less!" and all the while evidently on the lookout for some one whom at first he could not find.

At length his face cleared. "Hollo, a.s.sessor!" he called; and then, with another struggle to clear himself of importunate questioners, "Deuce take you all!" he exclaimed, "I have something better to do than to answer every fool's questions!"

The people about him grumbled, but perceiving that there was no satisfaction to be gained from him, turned their attention to the other two pa.s.sengers, and the elderly man was left to pursue his way successfully to where the a.s.sessor von Hahn stood awaiting him. "Here I am at last!" he said, holding out to him the hand unenc.u.mbered by his travelling-bag. "I have been trying to get to you for the last three days, but not even standing-room could I find in the railway-trains, which are nothing but military transports. I had to pay an enormous price to-day for a place in a baggage-wagon."

The two men were now quite clear of the crowd, and the a.s.sessor shook the new-comer cordially by the hand. "I am rejoiced to see you!" he said. "You know how entirely I am at your service, Herr----"

"Fernheim!" the stranger interrupted him before he could p.r.o.nounce the name.

"Fernheim? Really, I do not know----"

"Call me Fernheim. It is as good a name as any other," the stranger said, in a tone only to be heard by the a.s.sessor. "I do not wish these curious people to know who I am, or what I want. The news of my coming might else reach Castle Hohenwald sooner than I desire that it should."

"You are right, Herr Fernheim. I never thought of it; but you are right, you were perhaps in more danger than you thought. Do you know by sight the Finanzrath von Hohenwald or Count Repuin?"

"No, I have no knowledge of the scoundrels!"

"Then you do not know that they were your fellow-pa.s.sengers in the train?"

"Not an idea of it. But thanks for the information. I shall know them again when I see them. The bearded fellow is the Russian of course.

Pity that Sorr is not with them; the n.o.ble trio would then be complete."

"He is not here."

"I know that; I am familiar enough with the rascal's face. I suppose those two precious rogues are bound for the castle, so the sooner we are on our way there the better. You have kept your promise, Herr a.s.sessor, to prepare everything for a visit to Hohenwald?"

"Of course; I have awaited you at every train since I received your despatch. The carriage is here to take you instantly to Grunhagen, Herr----"

"Fernheim. Do not forget the name. And no one in Hohenwald suspects my arrival?"

"No one."

"A thousand thanks, Herr a.s.sessor. We will leave instantly, since so much depends upon our arriving before those two worthy gentlemen." And preceded by the a.s.sessor, he pa.s.sed through the station-house, and getting into the carriage waiting for them, they were well on their way before the Finanzrath and Count Repuin had extricated themselves from the crowd of eager inquirers on the platform.

The Finanzrath had good reasons for answering all questioners civilly, here so near his home, where there was special need that he should preserve a character for patriotism. During the last few days several of his friends who had dared in Munich, Leipsic, and elsewhere to express unpatriotic sentiments had been roughly handled by the enraged populace. In fear, therefore, of a like fate, Werner judged it wisest to answer all questions with the greatest amiability, re-echoing bravely the curses of the French heard on all sides, and even his companion, Count Repuin, thought it prudent to follow his example.

The Finanzrath informed his hearers that war had been declared the day before; that Bismarck had announced this officially in the Reichstag, and that the enthusiasm in Berlin was boundless,--any amount of funds for the prosecution of the war would be voted unanimously. Werner bore his part admirably in the wild shouts of exultation that followed this intelligence, waving his hat with the foremost, hurrahing for Bismarck, and even adding his fine ba.s.s voice to the yelling rather than singing of "Die Wacht am Rhein," in which the enthusiasm of the mob culminated.

By degrees, however, the crowd dispersed, and the two men were left alone on the platform. "Low-lived canaille!" the Russian exclaimed, giving vent to his suppressed indignation. "I would have every scoundrel of them well thrashed!"

"You do them too much honour, my dear Count, in allowing them to ruffle you!" Werner calmly rejoined. "Let them roar their 'Wacht am Rhein' as they please. I am annoyed only by Sorr's non-appearance. He cannot have arrived, as he is not awaiting us here."

"True, I had forgotten the rascal in the midst of their shouts; but you are right. Baron, he should have been here if he obeyed my commands and left for A---- two days ago. What can have happened to him?"

"Nothing; we have seen the difficulty that exists now in getting from one place to another. He will come by the next train,--but it is very unfortunate for me to have to wait here at the station. I am so well known in A---- that people will wonder why I do not go immediately to Castle Hohenwald."

"Unfortunately, there is no help for it."