But the young miner's short-lived softened mood was over already. He tore himself free impatiently.
"Let me go. I have no time for talk--another time!"
He pushed open the garden gate, and, setting off in the direction of the park, soon disappeared in the growing darkness.
Martha stood with folded hands, looking after him. Wounded feeling and bitter pain strove together in her countenance, but the pain gained the upper hand.
"No blessing comes with such a love."
The words found an echo in her heart. She felt that there was no blessing on hers either.
Meanwhile Eugénie Berkow sat alone in her husband's study. There had been little opportunity as yet for these two to enjoy their newly-won felicity. Twice had Arthur been compelled to leave her; in the morning when he had thrown himself into the thick of the tumult and quelled it for the time being, and now again when he had been called away to a conference with the officials.
But, in spite of her anxiety about him and of the dangerous situation in which they were placed, the young wife's face beamed with a reflection of that deep inward happiness which, gained at the cost of many an arduous struggle, was no longer at the mercy of outward storms. She was with her husband, at his side, under his protection, and Arthur was, it seemed, a man able to make his wife forget all else in that one fact.
Suddenly a door was opened, and steps resounded in the adjoining room. Eugénie rose to meet the newcomer, whom she naturally took for her husband, but her first feeling of surprise at seeing a stranger gave way to one of terror as she recognised Ulric Hartmann.
He was startled too at seeing her, and stood still in some embarrassment.