"No, they are not!" Michael interrupted him, coldly. "Stay behind, Count Steinrück. I may perhaps be compelled to demand the papers of Herr von Clermont pistol in hand, and at the decisive moment you might possibly remember again that he is your 'nearest friend,' and the brother of the woman whom you 'love to madness.'"
"Rodenberg, I give you my word of honour----"
"Your word of honour?"
The emphasis that Michael gave to these words was so crushing that Raoul stood mute, as the captain went on in the same pitiless tone,--
"If you have not been guilty of the worst of crimes you have permitted it, and even shielded it from discovery. Either act is high treason; the accomplice is as bad as the thief."
He went without a backward glance. As he passed through the hall a door opened, and Valentin appeared, stood for a moment mute with astonishment, and then advanced hastily. "Michael! Is this you?"
"Your reverence!" was the rejoinder, in the same tone of astonishment. "You here?"
"That I ask you. You appointed the day after tomorrow, and if Hertha had not in her anxiety hastened her journey----"
"Hertha here? With you? Where is she?" Michael eagerly interrupted him; and when the priest pointed to the door in the upper story opening upon the staircase, the young officer heard no more, but rushed up the steps, tore open the door, and in another instant clasped Hertha in his arms.
But this interview had to be as brief as it was passionately tender. Rodenberg clasped his betrothed to his heart, but his first word to her was one of farewell.