Lucie hesitated to reply. She had not expected this question, and yet it was a very natural one. How could Arno expect to induce his brother to depart if he were not informed of the entire state of the case? He must know that the Finanzrath mistrusted him, and this Lucie could tell him only by letting him know of Werner's jealousy. It offended her sense of delicacy to inform Arno of this; but it was her duty to overcome her scruples and let him know what insane folly possessed Werner.
"You do not answer," Arno continued, after a short pause, "and yet my question is a very simple one."
"It shall be answered, Herr Baron. The Herr Finanzrath thinks that I have been induced by you to acquaint him with a fictitious tale of danger, in hopes that terror may drive him from Castle Hohenwald."
"Indeed? The suspicion is like him!" Arno exclaimed, indignantly. "And why should I wish to drive him from the castle, and why should you lend yourself to second me by a falsehood? I do not perceive the connection here."
Lucie's cheeks were crimson; but, hard as it was to reply, she did it bravely. "The Herr Finanzrath explained this in a manner very insulting to me. He thinks that it is my desire as well as yours to banish him from Castle Hohenwald, that we may escape his observation. You will not require me to explain further the disgraceful suspicions aroused in his mind by an unfortunate passion."
"Shameful!" Arno exclaimed. "I have long known of his passion for you,--his cold, calculating nature is incapable of a genuine affection; his love is an insult to you. I did not believe that he would dare to offend you by such unworthy suspicions; he is more worthless than I thought him. I thank you from my heart for bestowing your confidence upon me; rest assured you shall not repent it."
For a few minutes they walked on in silence, Arno thinking of Werner's silly suspicion that he was the author of Anna's warning. Who was its author? The answer that instantly occurred to him to this question disturbed the satisfaction that Anna's frankness had afforded him. Her information could proceed from but one person, from him with whom he had so lately seen her in earnest conversation; from Kurt von Poseneck.
But a moment ago he had regarded with profound contempt Werner's groundless jealousy, and yet now he suddenly felt a like sensation with regard to the rival who had robbed him of Anna's love. Her warning lost all credibility in his eyes; he rebelled against receiving it from a man whom he hated, and felt inclined, as Werner had done, to believe that it had been given with some unworthy aim. He must have certainty upon this point.
All that was genial vanished from his manner as he turned to Lucie, and with the same icy courtesy that had characterized his first address to her, said, "I owe you a debt of gratitude, Fräulein Müller, but let me pray you to complete your information. It is very important that I should know the source of your warning. Tell me frankly, do I owe it to Herr Kurt von Poseneck?"
"How did you know? What made you think of him?" Lucie asked, greatly surprised.