"I could not have prevented Sorr from ruining himself and you," Ahlborn gloomily replied. "Do not reproach me, my child. I did what I was forced to do, and the result has crowned my work. When I left you without even taking leave of you, I determined never to return unless in possession of all, and more than all, I had lost. Even then I suspected how bitterly we had been deceived in Sorr, and my only object in life was to work for you, my darling, that your future might be secure. With this one thought in my mind I went to America and plunged into a life of toil, in which, when I might have faltered and fallen, the thought of you sustained me. I added dollar to dollar with the parsimony of a miser. I embarked, like a madman, in the boldest speculations. All that I touched seemed to turn to profit. But why dwell upon those wild years? I hate to think of them, for, although I never stooped to what the world calls dishonesty, it galls me now to remember how different was the system of mad speculation by which I regained my lost fortune from the plodding industry by which I first obtained it.
"Three months ago I arrived in Bremen, and hurried to Berlin, where my worst fears with regard to Sorr were confirmed. His reputation was gone, his property lost; and I was told that he had removed with you to M----. When I reached M---- it was too late, you had vanished unaccountably, and Sorr, too, was not to be found."
"Did not Adèle tell you where I was?" Lucie asked.
"I never thought of going to her, so wide-spread was the report that in your despair you had destroyed yourself. I left M---- a broken-hearted man; of what use was my wealth? My aim in life was gone.
"I tried to divert my mind by travelling aimlessly hither and thither; and at Frankfort-on-the-Main, seeing by the papers that a fine estate on the banks of the Rhine was for sale, I purchased it, in hopes of finding relief from my misery in the care of it. But the peaceful solitude to which I had looked to soothe my pain only increased it, and again I began my wanderings, which suddenly found their close in Berlin. Last Friday I was sauntering aimlessly along the street there when I met the Assessor von Hahn. Remembering that in former days he was in the habit of frequenting our house, where he was one of your adorers, I did not rebuff him when he recognized me and with a cordial welcome on his lips walked along by my side. I soon wearied of him, however, and paid no attention to the gossip he continued to retail to me, until I was aroused from my absence of mind by the question, 'Have you been to see your daughter yet?' If he were conscious that your friends mourned you as dead, why ask so cruel a question? I begged him instantly to tell me all that he knew of you, and this threw the little man into the greatest confusion; my joy was unbounded when he assured me positively that you were still alive, although he refused to reveal to me your retreat, and referred me to your friend Adèle. An hour later I was in the train bound for M----, and the next morning I had an early interview with your friend, who was in raptures at recognizing me. But, ah, my child, what a tale she told me! My poor darling, to what a fate did I resign you! Now, however, I know all,--all, for Adèle even gave me your last letter to her to read, entreating me to go instantly to your aid, to carry you to my home on the Rhine, far away from Castle Hohenwald, where, as you said, each moment was torture to you."
"Did Adèle say that?" Lucie asked, in surprise. "Did she not show you my second letter, which she must have received almost simultaneously with the first?"
"I know nothing of any second letter; but your friend regretted deeply that she had not yet been able to procure you the situation for which you implored her, and added that she was upon the point of writing to you, to insist that you should return to your old retreat beneath her father's roof. We consulted together what was best to be done. We agreed that you must leave the castle immediately, but in view of the eccentricity of its lord, I judged it best to accept the friendly offices, so frankly offered, of Herr von Hahn to procure an interview with you, rather than to present myself in person to the Freiherr.
"I telegraphed to the Assessor at A---- to meet me at the station there, and as soon as I was able to procure a place in the crowded trains came hither. He was waiting for me on the platform, and before we left the station he pointed out to me two gentlemen who had arrived by the same train as Count Repuin and the Finanzrath von Hohenwald."
"Good heavens!" Lucie exclaimed. "Werner and the Count! This is, indeed, wretched news. I feared it, I feared it, although I could not conceive that the Finanzrath could be so basely treacherous. But let Count Repuin come,--I am no longer defenceless; I will confront him boldly in the presence of the old Freiherr." Then as she reflected that her kind old friend was absolutely ignorant of her past, now probably to be so misrepresented to him, she went on, in feverish agitation: "But, oh! my father, there is a danger which you cannot avert. What if my kind friend should be led to doubt me by the falsehoods that will doubtless be poured into his ears? I will not lose his esteem and affection; we must see him before the Finanzrath and the Count reach the castle. Perhaps it is already too late. Protect me from them, father, if they should be there, and stand beside me while I tell the Freiherr my wretched story."
But to this her father was not inclined to agree. Had it not been for the presence of Repuin he would gladly have allowed his child to acquaint the Freiherr with all her past, but he could not doubt the Russian's close association with Sorr, and from her husband even Lucie's father could not protect her. Should Sorr require her to follow him, nothing remained for her save to elude him by a secret flight from the castle without even bidding the old Freiherr farewell. Only when beneath her father's roof could she thank Baron von Hohenwald for all his kindness and explain to him the grounds for her sudden and secret flight.