"You are safe with me," said the good lady, who knew there was a price on the head of this patriotic poet. "I am the mother-in-law of Herr Professor Richard von Stork of the Tugendbund." She lowered her voice as she said this last word.
Arndt grasped her hand and then, walking away with her, told how he had been driven from land to land and torn from his son for the sake of the little one's safety.
"When I thrust the child from me," he said, "I could almost have cursed the French and the Corsican who rules them."
For a moment he was silent.
Then he gazed about gay Unter den Linden.
"But, Madame," his face looked like that of a prophet, "I see to-day in this splendour, in these loud and continued cheers for the King, a hope that all hearts may be united in one common German spirit. I see more eyes wet with sorrow than bright with joy, and who knows what will come of it for our dear Fatherland?"
Marianne's eyes sparkled.
Her one longing was to serve her country. But what could a girl do?
Her face fell.
At the corner of Friedrichstrasse and Unter den Linden she came face to face with Bettina marching homeward with the girls of the "Luisenstift."