Arno looked at his brother with profound contempt. "I will hear no more!" he said, sternly. "What your share may be in the disgraceful intrigue of which you speak I do not know, nor do I wish to know. Go your own dark way, but do not think to mislead me by your sophistry. I know my duty. You reckon upon my hatred of Prussia, upon my love for our own little Saxon land; your reckoning is false from beginning to end. Yes, I do hate the arrogant, ambitious Prussian, but I have a fiercer hatred for the arch-enemy of all Germany, and it fills me with shame and indignation that a Hohenwald should dream of inciting his brother to a disgraceful league with France in a war with Germany. This is the error in your prudent calculations: you reckon upon the hatred of Prussia in South Germany, in Hanover and Saxony, but that hatred will vanish like chaff before the wind when it comes to be a question of defending Germany against French lust of conquest. Neither you nor your noble Russian friend Count Repuin can use the German love of country as a factor in your calculations, for you do not appreciate its existence, nor that there are happily but few scoundrels in Germany so ready as yourself to satisfy their own selfish ambition by giving over their fatherland to French greed of territory."
The Finanzrath sprang up in a rage, but his brother, without waiting for a reply, left the room. "Insulting!" Werner exclaimed, quite beside himself.
"Not one word against Arno!" the old Freiherr said, sternly. "Every word that he uttered found its echo in my soul, and I thank God that there is at least one Hohenwald who retains within him a sense of right and honour and a genuine love of his country. Not a word, Werner! I will hear no more of your disgraceful schemes; not now, at all events. I must be more myself than I am now when I speak with you again. Now leave me; I wish to be alone."
Werner hesitated for a moment, but judged it wisest to make no attempt at present to recover the ground he had lost. "I obey your commands, sir," he said; "I hope calm reflection will induce you to change your mind, and that it will also have its effect upon Arno."
After the angry dispute with his brother, Arno walked out into the garden, and, feeling the need of quiet to collect himself, took his seat upon a rustic bench nearly hidden in a clump of shrubbery. It was a favourite retreat of his, and from its seclusion he could overlook almost the entire garden. Here, then, he sat down, and resigned himself to thought. So buried was he in reflection that, although he was aware that Fräulein Müller and Celia came from the castle to take their morning walk, and passed quite near him, he did not heed them: his mind was filled with Werner's dark schemes.
Thus he remained for he could not tell how long, when he was suddenly roused from his reverie by the sound of the voice that never reached his ear without thrilling him to the heart. He looked up. Walking along a leafy side-path came Werner and Fräulein Müller; she was speaking, and looking, not at Werner, but upon the ground. Arno thought he perceived that her voice trembled, although he could not distinguish what she was saying.
Werner's reply was made in so low a tone that not a sound reached Arno's ear; he could only perceive its effect upon Fräulein Müller, and it aroused within him a feeling of indignation. There was pain that was almost agony expressed in Anna's face as she listened eagerly to her companion's whispered words. Werner spoke long and persistently, bending above Fräulein Müller the while, and devouring with passionate admiration the lovely downcast face. As the pair passed his retreat Arno caught two words from his brother's lips, "Count Repuin," and marked how colourless was Anna's cheek, down which a tear was trickling from beneath the drooping eyelid.
They passed, and at the end of the woodland path turned into a walk leading to the castle. Celia here joined them. Near the castle gate they paused. Fräulein Müller, with a slight inclination to Werner, left him and entered the castle with Celia. The Finanzrath turned into a side-path leading to the forest and disappeared from Arno's sight.
What had passed between Werner and this girl? Was there a secret understanding between them? Arno felt his blood boil at the thought. Had Werner really induced Anna, who had hitherto treated him with cool reserve, to grant him a private confidential interview? She had begun her morning walk, accompanied by Celia, and had sent away her pupil that she might speak alone with Werner. Arno sprang from his seat in uncontrollable agitation; but he grew calm again as he remembered the pained expression of Anna's features, the tear that had rolled down her pale cheek. If there were some private relation between them, it certainly was not a friendly one. Still the mere thought that Werner by some fine-spun scheme had induced the girl to accord him this tête-à-tête, and to listen with eager attention to his words, was torture to Arno. If he had succeeded thus far, what might not be the result? She must be warned, warned against the vile arts of the betrayer! Thus much was certain. But who should warn her? To whom could he confide his fears? To his father? Impossible! The Freiherr was not overfond of Werner, but he would indignantly have rejected the idea that his son, that a Hohenwald could be guilty of such infamy. Celia, then? An innocent child of sixteen? No! Celia never must dream that her eldest brother could harbour a thought that could wrong her dear companion. And there was no one else in the castle who could speak one word to Anna upon such a subject; he had held himself so aloof that he never could advise her in so delicate a matter.
To Styrum he would turn in this need; but first he would narrowly observe Anna and Werner, that he might be able to give his friend a clearer idea of the relations between them than he had yet been able to gain for himself.