Could this be myself? I could scarcely collect my senses.
Ludwig had not returned, and I was almost glad that it was so, for I was not permitted to reveal what had been secretly determined on.
Martella was still awake. She came to meet me with the words:
"Father, you have heard news of Ernst. Did the Prince give you his pardon?"
I could not conceive how the child could have had this presentiment, and when I asked her, she told me that a brother of the porter at Annette's house had returned from Algiers and had told her about Ernst.
I could not enter into Martella's plans. What mattered the life of a son, or the yearning affection of a girl? I scarcely heard what she said--my heart was filled to overflowing; there was no room left for other cares.
One memory was revived. Years ago, the Privy Councillor had told me that I was well thought of at court. At that time it was scarcely probable. But could it have been true, after all?
Morning was dawning when I reached my bed. I felt that I would never again be able to sleep, and only wished that I might live a few days longer, so that, if nothing else was left, I might plunge myself into the yawning abyss for the sake of my country.
It was fortunate that the session was not to begin until noon. I slept until I was called.