Fabian stopped short, and gazed at his wife in alarm and horror. "You? Good heavens! By whom?"
"By my papa, and, what is worst of all, by my own husband."
The professor rushed to his wife's side and seized her hand, but with a very ungracious mien she snatched it from him.
"Yes, the way in which I am treated is perfectly outrageous!" she reiterated. "You show me no confidence, you have secrets from me, you treat me like an ignorant child, me, a married woman, the wife of a professor in the University of J----; it is atrocious!"
"Dear Gretchen," said Fabian, meekly, and then he stopped suddenly.
"What has papa been telling you? Why have you not confided it to me? Why were you two so long closeted together? What are these momentous secrets between you? O, you needn't deny it, Emil; you know that you and papa have secrets that you don't tell me."
The professor attempted no denial; he gazed at the floor, and looked very much depressed. His wife gave him a reproving glance.
"Well, then, I shall tell you," said Gretchen, "since you will not trust me. There is another plot in Villica, a conspiracy, as Hubert would say. Papa is involved, and is drawing you into it. The object of the plot is the liberation of Count Morynski."
"Child, for God's sake be silent!" cried Fabian, in dismay; but Gretchen paid no heed to the entreaty; she went on without a moment's pause.
"And Herr Nordeck is not in Altenhof; if he were, you would not be so anxious about him. What do you care for Count Morynski and his flight? Ah, but I know why you tremble! Your beloved Waldemar is with him. I shouldn't wonder if he himself had liberated the count; it would be just like him."