Flora shrugged her shoulders. "We know nothing more than that there has been an explosion in the tower. Every one runs past us; no one answers our questions; and I cannot stir from the spot, because grandmamma has lost her head, and in her agitation is positively tearing the clothes off my back. She imagines that Moritz is killed."
The young girls stood as if turned to stone at this horrible idea,—the strong, handsome man who only a few hours before had emptied his glass to the "delights of life" already perished in the flames or crushed to atoms! It could not be. "Impossible!" exclaimed Fräulein von Giese.
"Impossible?" the Frau President repeated, with a mingling of sobs and wild laughter: she had struggled to her feet, but she tottered like a drunken man as she pointed a trembling finger towards the nearest grove. "There—they are bringing him! My God! Moritz, Moritz!"
In solemn silence an object was being borne along, and within the circle of those who were accompanying it walked Doctor Bruck, without his hat, his tall figure towering above the rest. Flora flew towards him, whilst the Frau President burst into a fit of convulsive weeping. At sight of the lovely commanding figure the group involuntarily parted. Flora gave one hasty glance at the form extended upon a litter, and instantly turned back to say soothingly, "Be calm, grandmamma! It is not Moritz——
"It is Kitty,—I knew it," Henriette murmured hoarsely, in a voice that was half sob, half whisper, as she staggered across to where the bearers had put down their burden for a minute to take breath.
The poor girl lay upon the old-fashioned couch from the doctor's study. Her dress hanging over its side was dripping with moisture. Soft pillows were beneath her back and head; with her eyelids so gently closed and her hands resting so calmly upon her breast, one might have imagined her sleeping, but for the bandage above her brow and the blood trickling down her cheek.
"What has happened to Kitty, Leo? What was she doing near the ruin?" Flora asked, approaching the couch, both in tone and in manner displaying more irritation at her sister's supposed forwardness than terror at what had happened.
At her previous remark, intended to soothe her grandmother, the doctor had turned in sudden anger; now he seemed not to hear her speaking, so firmly closed were his lips, so stolid was the look which passed her by to rest with interest upon Henriette.
The poor invalid stood before him gasping for breath, looking up to him with eyes dimmed with tears. "Only one word, Leo; is she alive?" she stammered, raising her hands clasped in entreaty.
"Yes; the concussion and loss of blood have stunned her; the only danger at present to be apprehended is from her wet clothes. The wound on her temple is trifling, thank God!" he answered in vibrating tones, which seemed to come from the depths of his heart, while with all a brother's tenderness he put his left arm around the frail form that could hardly stand upright. "Go on," he said to the bearers, with evident anxiety and impatience.