His child-wife...! The watchman was chanting the tale of the first morning hour, when, close upon a peremptory knock, Geiger-Hans broke into the room.
"Aha, all is well, then," he cried sharply, as the young man rose from his knees and came forward to meet him, and his own haggard features were suddenly illumined as by a reflection of the joy marked in the other's eyes. And then, it was no surprise to him that Sidonia, waking, should presently thrust out her rosy face between the curtains: he had already known, through Steven's eyes, that the children he loved were together.
"Steven!" cried Sidonia.
"Ah, Sidonia...!"
He ran to her. And, regardless of Geiger-Hans, they clasped each other, the deed of annulment dropping between them.
* * * * *
"Now, children!" said Geiger-Hans, briskly—he was laughing, but the tears, which few had ever seen before in them, glittered in his eyes—"you will have plenty of time by and by; now it is haste, haste, haste! I have a carriage for you waiting below. Ha, little Madame Sidonia, laugh with me! It is the Burgravine's own carriage—nothing less! Nay, German wives do not so easily escape their husbands, even at Jerome's court. My Lady Burgravine makes no journeying to-night, or ever, if I may prophesy, away from her lord! A berline and four good posthorses ... 'twere pity to waste them! Quick, children! For I tell you night may not be over ere the storm break on this town!"
Sidonia had little preparation to make. She put on her cloak. From the depths of her hood, her happy eyes looked inquiringly at the fiddler.
"Where are we going?" she asked.