Johann Leopold bit his lip. He could not bring himself to mention Red Jakob, but Aunt Thekla forced herself to reply. "Otto confessed everything to me," she whispered.
For a moment the Freiherr seemed stunned. Then he laughed bitterly, and walked to the window. After a long and painful pause, Johann Leopold said, "We wished to spare you."
The Freiherr turned upon him. "Spare me!" and his eyes flashed. "Has it averted disgrace from us? Have I not still had to lose them both? Can you suppose that such worthlessness could be cast aside and leave no trace? Spare me!" he repeated, controlling himself by an effort. "And to do this you could quietly look on and see me thrust the child Johanna out into the world, after all that she had been made to suffer by one of us! Am I to thank you for this? You, my own flesh and blood! For shame! You do not belong to me. The doctor is the only one who understands me!"
Aunt Thekla shed tears. Johann Leopold stood with downcast eyes. "It was by Johanna's own desire," he said, after a pause.
"Johanna!" exclaimed the Freiherr, and a gleam as of sunshine irradiated his stern face. "I have no fault to find with her. In her affectionate folly she has undertaken the hardest task herself. She could not feign and lie; she preferred to renounce and to labour. Foolish she has been, and stubborn, but her heart is of gold,—a true, genuine Dönninghausen!"
After these words he paced the room to and fro once or twice, and then, pausing before Ludwig, asked, "Doctor, when does your train start for Hanover? I shall go with you, and bring the child home."
Aunt Thekla raised her hand in entreaty: "Dear Johann, travel at this season! You cannot be in earnest!"
And Johann Leopold begged, "Pray let me go, sir!"
But the Freiherr shook his head: "No, my lad! I owe it to her and to myself. We will go together, my dear doctor, and I will bring my brave, stout-hearted child home!"