Dernburg took the proffered papers and stepped at once to the table, whereon stood a bell.
"First of all I must hear Wildenrod himself! You will not shrink, I hope, from repeating your accusation in his presence?"
"I have just done that--I came from his room. It was a last effort to end the matter in a way that would spare his exposure, but it failed. The Baron knows that I am revealing all this to you, at this hour--he has not followed me to answer for himself."
"Never mind, he is to render me an account!" Dernburg pressed on the bell and called to the servant who entered: "Tell Baron von Wildenrod to come to me, please, at once."
The servant went; along, awkward silence ensued. Nothing was heard but the rustling of the papers that Dernburg opened one after the other and looked through: he turned ever paler as he proceeded. Egbert tarried, silent and motionless, in his place. Thus the minutes elapsed. It was long, very long, before the door was opened, and then it was not Wildenrod who entered but the servant who returned, saying:
"The Baron is not in his rooms, nor, indeed, anywhere about the house. Perhaps he has already ridden away."
"Ridden away? Where to?"
"Apparently to the city. He ordered the horses put to the carriage and that it should drive to the back gate of the park. He must be there by this time."
A silent nod dismissed the servant, and then Dernburg's self-control gave way. He sank into a chair, and a cry of despair escaped his lips.
"My child! my poor, poor Maia! She loves this man with all her heart."