"My sister, my sister!"
There was a moment of silence. Then Amélie asked almost sharply:
"Are we to infer that Madame does not Know how to write?"
"My dear child, what more can she do than send me word she will receive me—"
"Receive us?" asked the girl.
"No, myself only. Amélie, consider that you are a stranger to her, whereas I am the companion of her childhood, the boy who wept and suffered with her during captivity. She consents to see me. Do you think this little? I asked only that much, for I know that once together, she will run to embrace me. O that embrace!"
"Does she summon you to the Palace?"
"No—not to the palace—"
"Aha! the meeting is to be clandestine!"
"My God!" groaned Naundorff. "How you poison the first happiness I have tasted! Can you not read the state of my soul? Ambition! 'Tis an illusive folly. I long only for those arms to be opened to me in which as a little child I slept. What are a crown and sceptre worth? Such baubles do not allure me. I wish above all things to recover my name and to feel my sister's kisses. Those kisses will banish the spectre back of my forehead. Am I mad? Have I dreamed my past life? She, she will tell me the truth."