"And this little I must not grant. I pray you leave me, Herr Baron; we must part forever. I must not again expose myself to a danger from which I thought myself safe with you; my duty as well as my honour forbids me to listen to you. Once more I entreat you to leave me!"
"You rob me of all hope?" Arno asked, gently.
"All!"
She spoke so calmly, and with such absolute firmness, that Arno despaired of moving her; he did not venture to add a single word of entreaty; after so decided a rejection he could no longer refuse to accede to her request. He took her hand once more, kissed it passionately, and hurried from the room.
He never looked back, and therefore could not see how, even before the library door had closed upon him, Lucie's hardly-won composure utterly forsook her. She sank into a seat, buried her face in her hands, and burst into a passion of tears.
Half an hour afterward she was seated at her desk in her room, writing to her dearest, her only friend, Adèle.
"I must leave here immediately,--every hour of my stay at Castle Hohenwald is a period of unspeakable torment for me. I had feared and hoped so much from this place; both fears and hopes are unfulfilled, and I must leave Hohenwald, where I was so content. I love the old Freiherr like a father, and I know he is fond of me; scarcely a day passes that he does not tell me that the sun has shone more brightly in Hohenwald since I came here. And I love my darling Celia, dear, innocent child; with my whole heart do I return the tender affection she lavishes upon me,--her progress delights me, but I must go.
"Do not, dear Adèle, think me variable and fickle,--my heart bleeds at the thought of leaving these dear people, but it must be; you will say so yourself when you hear all. You know I have faithfully described my life here to you. I have told you of the distaste with which the Finanzrath's attentions inspired me. I did all that I could by the cold reserve of my manner to impress him with this fact. I did not think he would ever succeed in forcing me to grant him a private and confidential interview, and yet this he has done. About a week ago he came into the garden where Celia and I were taking our usual morning walk. He had just returned from one of his frequent journeys, and I could not avoid replying to his courteous greeting. He joined us and entered into conversation with us. He talks extremely well, and even I could not help being amused by his lively descriptions of his travelling adventures, while Celia, who is not very fond of her eldest brother, was much entertained. Suddenly he paused, and, turning directly to me, said, 'But I have not told you the most interesting experience of my trip, Fräulein Müller.' Then, with a searching glance, he added, 'I have seen several friends of yours, and have talked of you a great deal.'
"I felt the blood mount into my face at these words. I could not conceal the terror with which they inspired me; whereupon the Finanzrath, with a satisfied smile, went on, 'I need only mention the name of one of my friends, of Count Repuin, to convince you how interesting was our conversation about you.' The detested name of that terrible man produced upon me all the effect that the Finanzrath had doubtless expected. It was only by a strong effort that I could keep myself from fainting. Celia noticed my pallor; she had not heard her brother's words,--he had chosen a moment for them in which she was lagging behind to pluck a flower. 'What is the matter, dear Anna?' she exclaimed, in terror; 'you are deadly pale.' In fact, had she not put her arm about me I think I should have fallen, although I soon recovered myself. The Finanzrath offered me his arm, and despatched his sister to the castle for a vinaigrette. I did not dare to refuse his proffered aid, lest I should offend him, and thus I found myself alone with him, forced to continue my walk leaning upon his arm. 'I thank you, Fräulein Müller,' he said, as soon as Celia had left us, 'for your readiness to grant me this tête-à-tête. It gives me a precious proof of your confidence in me,--a confidence which, I promise you, you never shall regret. Chance has revealed to me your secret; but I give you my word of honour it shall remain buried in my breast.' He then told me how he had learned who I was. Repuin is his friend,--he had seen him in Munich, and one day, while Repuin was engaged in writing letters, had whiled away the time by looking over some photographs in a book upon the Russian's table. Many of these he was familiar with; but his astonishment was great when in one of them he recognized his sister's governess. He waited until Repuin was at leisure, and then his first thought, so he told me, was to ask the Count whether he was acquainted with Fräulein Anna Müller, the original of the photograph; but, reflecting that Count Styrum had made it a request that no curiosity should be shown regarding my past, he suspected that I should prefer the Count's remaining in ignorance as to my whereabouts, and therefore he took up the book of photographs again, as if casually, and suddenly exclaimed, 'A pretty face, Count; who is this girl?' showing my likeness as he spoke.
"'Not a girl, but a married woman,' Repuin replied. 'Sorr's runaway wife!'