"Good God!" exclaimed Dr. Reinsfeld, who had appeared at the door of the next room just as the last sentences were being uttered, and who now hurried in. But Erna was before him; she first reached her father, and threw herself down beside him with a cry of terror.
"Do not be distressed, Fräulein Erna," said the young physician, gently pushing her aside, while with Elmhorst's help he raised the unconscious man and laid him on the sofa. "It is a fainting-fit,--an attack of vertigo such as the Herr Baron had a few weeks ago. He will recover from this too."
The young girl had followed him, and stood beside him with her hands convulsively clasped and her eyes riveted upon the face of the speaker. Perhaps she saw there something that contradicted the consoling words.
"No, no!" she gasped. "You are deceiving me; this is something else! Papa! papa! it is I. Do you not know your Erna?"
Benno made no rejoinder, but tore open Thurgau's coat; Elmhorst would have helped him, but Erna thrust away his hand with violence.
"Do not touch him!" she exclaimed, in half-stifled accents. "You have killed him, you have brought ruin to our household. Leave him! I will not let you even touch his hand!"
Wolfgang involuntarily recoiled and looked in dismay that was almost terror at the girl, who at this moment was no longer a child. She had thrown herself before her father with outspread arms as if to shield and defend him, and her eyes flashed with savage hatred as though she were confronting a mortal foe.
"Go, Wolfgang," Reinsfeld said in a low tone, as he led him away. "The poor child in her anguish is unjust, and, moreover, you must not stay. The Baron may possibly recover consciousness, and if so he must not see you."
"May recover?" Elmhorst repeated. "Do you fear----"
"The worst! Go, and send old Vroni here; she must be somewhere in the house. Wait outside, and I will bring you tidings as soon as possible."