The old Baron interrupted his son frequently with exclamations of surprise and with questions, and when he had concluded, declared "It is a most extraordinary story, and I can make nothing of it; but I am glad you said nothing about her to those fellows outside, for Werner is evidently hand in glove with this precious Herr von Sorr. What they want I cannot imagine; perhaps you may guess when you hear that fellow's story." The Freiherr then related as briefly as he could the tale told him by Sorr, adding, finally, "I must do the man the justice to say that he acknowledged that he alone was to blame in his quarrel with his wife; he never accused her, and I might have put some faith in his protestations if it had not been for the scoundrelly hang-dog look of him. I don't believe one word of his repentance and change of life.

There is a screw loose somewhere in his story about Count Repuin. If he had fought a duel with the Russian is it likely that Werner would bring his friend's mortal foe here? I had hoped to hear the truth from Fraulein Anna, but now that she has gone, what's to be done I don't know."

"Celia may tell us something."

"True, she may; that's an idea!" the Freiherr exclaimed. "She went with Anna into the forest. Go, Arno, and bring the child here."

Arno found Celia in her own room, and with difficulty persuaded her to accompany him to her father's presence; where, until Arno finally told her of his late interview with her dear Anna, she refused to give any information with regard to Fraulein Muller's disappearance. Then, however, she told the little that she knew; no more, indeed, than what Arno had already learned, that Anna was forced against her will to leave the castle instantly to escape a great peril, and that she would shortly write and explain all.

"We are no wiser than we were before," the Freiherr declared, when Celia had finished speaking. "We know that she has fled, but we do not know why or whither; there is some comfort in the thought that she is with her father, and the question now is, what is to be done with those two fellows outside. I must give them some answer." As he spoke, the Freiherr glanced towards Werner and Sorr, and observed to his surprise that they were no longer alone. A man, hat in hand, was handing Werner a letter. "Is that not Hesse, our old Inspector?" the Freiherr inquired of Arno. "Look, Arno, how agitated Werner seems; he must have received some important intelligence; yes, here he comes again, without waiting for a summons."

Werner, followed by Sorr, now hurriedly entered. "I can wait no longer, father," he said, approaching the Freiherr. "I must beg you to decide instantly. Important information which I have just received forces me to leave here immediately with Herr von Sorr. I trust Frau von Sorr will accompany us. Surely you will not deny a husband his rights,--will not compel him to have recourse to the law."

The Freiherr did not reply.

"I entreat you, sir, to delay no longer,--every moment is precious,"

Werner went on. "Any long stay here is fraught with peril for me."

"I will not delay you; go when you please."

"Shall I have come in vain? Will not Frau von Sorr accompany her husband?"

"I have no right to detain her."

"But you allow her to reside in the castle, while duty calls her to follow her husband. You sustain her in her disobedience to duty by permitting her to remain beneath your roof."

"What a shameful accusation!" Arno cried, indignantly, but his father interrupted him.

"Hush, Arno!" he said, authoritatively. "I will have no disputing between you brothers. My decision is made; I will not interfere between Herr von Sorr and his wife!"

"You will not shelter her, sir?" Werner asked.

"No!"

"Thank you. I expected no less of you."

A contemptuous smile played about the Freiherr's lips as he rejoined, "I am greatly flattered. Thus the whole matter is ended. You can find Frau von Sorr, and tell her from me that I can no longer permit her to stay in Castle Hohenwald. The rest is your affair, or rather that of Herr von Sorr, whom I must now beg to leave me. I am far from well, and will hear nothing further; therefore adieu to both of you. Find Frau von Sorr, compel her to go with her husband, or do what you please, only leave me in peace. Success to you, Herr von Sorr; adieu, Werner!"

The old man leaned back in his chair, and by an imperious wave of the hand dismissed his son.

Werner left the apartment, followed by Sorr, whose fulsome grat.i.tude the Freiherr cut short by another impatient wave of the hand. As soon as they had left the room, Werner, still accompanied by Sorr, hurried first to the library where he hoped to find Lucie, and then up-stairs, where the maid informed them that Fraulein Muller had not been seen since four o'clock, when she had gone for a walk with Fraulein Celia; old Franz had searched both garden and park for her in vain.

Werner burst into a rage at this information of the maid's. "Arno saw her!" he exclaimed, when he was once more alone with Sorr in the castle court-yard. "He knows where she is, and must tell us where to find her." He then returned to the garden-room alone, leaving Sorr to await him in the court-yard. The reception he met with was of the coldest; his father swore he would not hear a word from him, Arno refused to answer any questions, and Celia continued her performance of one of her father's favourite sonatas without deigning even to look at him. He dared not linger longer in the castle,--there was nothing for it but to return to the court-yard, where the vehicle in which he had arrived stood ready for departure.

"We must go, Herr von Sorr," said Werner; "time flies. My father, brother, and sister are evidently in league with your wife; they know where she is, but utterly refuse to tell,--it would take hours to find her, and every moment is priceless."

"We cannot leave without my wife; I do not dare to confront Repuin without her."

"Then stay here; I am going," Werner resolutely declared. "I will not imperil my freedom by a fruitless search, and besides we may chance to meet her on our way. Will you come?" He opened the carriage-door and sprang in. Sorr hesitated a moment, and then followed him; the coachman whipped up his horses, and they galloped off at a rattling pace.

Not more than a quarter of an hour had elapsed when there appeared, on the road to the castle along which they had so lately pa.s.sed, a mounted gendarme, preceding, by another quarter of an hour, an open barouche, in which sat three gentlemen, two officers and a civilian. Colonel von Schlichting, with his adjutant, Lieutenant von Styrum, and the famous, or, as some would have it, the notorious police official, the Geheimrath Steuber, from Berlin; a second civilian, his a.s.sistant, sat on the box beside the coachman.

The gendarme, when in sight of the castle, awaited the barouche, behind which came a detachment of mounted dragoons, and reported that he had seen nothing suspicious, no carriage either going towards or coming from the castle.

"The birds are probably not yet flown," the Geheimrath said, rubbing his hands and chuckling. "The castle can be approached only in this direction. I was afraid upon learning at the station that immediately after our arrival a carriage and a horseman had left it at full speed that they might have got wind of our coming, but now I rather think we shall find the entire band of conspirators, including Count Repuin, together."

The Geheimrath was evidently elated at the prospect of a good haul.

There was a smile upon his ugly face, which, to Count Styrum, made it look uglier still, and his view was shared by Count Schlichting. Both officers were fulfilling a disagreeable duty; they had received their orders from the highest authority, and were instructed if the arrest of the Freiherr von Hohenwald were really unavoidable, to proceed with the greatest caution and delicacy. Count Schlichting and Count Styrum, the latter of whom was but just re-admitted to military service, had personally been informed by their august commander how painful it was to him to issue orders for a search of Castle Hohenwald, which might result in the arrest of the Freiherr and his son Arno in addition to that of the Finanzrath and Count Repuin, which had already been ordered. Stern necessity alone had overcome considerations which would else have prevailed even with the highest authorities, and both search and arrests were confided to the charge of the famous Geheimrath, who was at the head of all investigations of the treasonable combinations still existing after war had been declared. Thus the police official was, in fact, the leader of this expedition to Hohenwald, although for form's sake he appeared as the colonel's a.s.sistant, and this galled the old soldier, for the Geheimrath's past was more than questionable; he owed his lofty position entirely to his cunning. Schlichting would gladly have replied harshly to the exultation of the man who, with his old, wrinkled face and large, prominent eyes glaring through round spectacle-gla.s.ses, looked like nothing so much as a malicious and evil-minded kobold, but considerations of duty kept him silent. Styrum, however, felt bound by no such considerations, and when the Geheimrath went so far as to stigmatize all the inmates of the castle as conspirators he indignantly repeated the obnoxious word, and added, in a deeply offended tone, "You would do well, Herr Geheimrath, to be better informed before you apply such an epithet to the old Freiherr von Hohenwald or to my comrade and friend, the Freiherr Arno. As to the latter, I can vouch for his patriotism and devotion to his country; he is incapable of treason, and there is nothing but unfounded rumour, so far as I can learn, that can cause you to regard the old Freiherr as a conspirator."

The colonel nodded approvingly to the younger officer, while the Geheimrath looked at him with a smile half of pity and half of contempt as he replied, "It is the privilege of youth to trust and to hope; you must not wonder, however, that with my experience I am readier to believe in guilt than in innocence. This, however, shall not prevent me from searching with equal vigilance for proof of the innocence as well as of the guilt of those under suspicion. If your friend is, as you believe, innocent, his fate is in good hands; I am terrible only for the guilty."

"And you believe that Baron Arno may be guilty?"

"I believe nothing, Herr Count. I only know that there are incontestable proofs that the Finanzrath von Hohenwald has treasonable relations with Count Repuin and other French agents; that he has employed leave of absence granted him from official duty to make various expeditions from Castle Hohenwald to the large South German cities, always returning thither again, and that in his letters he has expressed the hope of winning over his father and brother to what he calls the 'good cause.' I know further that he has lately developed a feverish activity, and that this very morning he arrived at Station A---- in company with Count Repuin, the most dangerous of all the French agents, doubtless intending to visit Castle Hohenwald in order to mature with their a.s.sociates those arrangements that cannot be confided to paper. Therefore you must not be offended, Herr Count, if an old police official makes use of the word 'conspirator' in designating these a.s.sociates. If your friend Baron Arno is no conspirator so much the better, but at present his case has an ugly look, and I must warn you both, gentlemen, not to allow your belief in his innocence to betray you into any action detrimental to the success of our expedition hither."

"We know our duty, and need no reminder that it is to be fulfilled,"

the colonel haughtily replied.

"I am convinced of it, and beg to a.s.sure you that no 'reminder' was intended," Steuber rejoined, after which, leaning back in the carriage, he made no further attempts at conversation.

Arrived in the castle court-yard, the Geheimrath sprang out of the barouche with youthful agility, and after a few whispered words to his a.s.sistant, requested the colonel, who followed him somewhat less briskly, to place guards at every point of egress from the castle into the garden, and then to present him to the Freiherr von Hohenwald. "The sooner the search is begun," he added, "the more secure we are of results."

With the best grace he could muster the colonel ordered Styrum to place guards as required.

Meanwhile, old Franz, hearing the clatter of the horses upon the stones of the court-yard, made his appearance, staring in dismay at the strangers who dared, against his master's commands, thus to invade Castle Hohenwald.

"We wish to speak with the Herr Freiherr von Hohenwald. Conduct us to your master!"

Franz gazed open-mouthed at the man who uttered these words in an imperious tone. What, show a stranger into his master's room unannounced, and no permission asked! It was inconceivable.

"The Herr Baron cannot see any one."

"He will see us!"

"No; the Herr Baron has expressly ordered that no strangers are to be announced."

"You are not to announce us, but to conduct us to him!" And as he spoke, the man with the spectacles had so threatening an air that old Franz felt constrained to obey. "This way, then!" he said, sullenly, leading the way to the garden-room, followed by the colonel and the Geheimrath.

Fatigued and agitated, after Werner's departure the old Freiherr lay wearily back in his rolling-chair, his thoughts busy with Anna, who had so often sung him the very song that Celia was now beginning to play on the piano. Arno sat beside him silent and sad, listening to his sister's charming rendering of the well-known melody.

"It is past; and all is so different from what I had hoped," the Freiherr said, after a long pause, taking his son's hand and pressing it. "She has left us, and all my hopes are crushed."

"What were your hopes, father?"

"It is useless to speak of them." Another pause ensued; the old Baron sadly gazing at his son, who was again lost in thought. Then he spoke once more, "Tell me frankly, Arno, am I wrong in thinking that our Anna had grown very dear to you?"

At this unexpected question Arno hastily started from his seat, and paced the apartment to and fro, then paused and confronted his father.

"Why ask such a question?" he said, reproachfully. "What is to you, father, or to any one, whether I loved or hated her? Our Anna, do you call her? Have you forgotten that she is the wife of that wretch whom Werner has chosen for his friend? She is Frau von Sorr! Do you know, father, that at times I think the thought will drive me mad!"