"What do you mean? Of whom are you speaking?" exclaimed Constance, who had also arisen at my last words. She had turned quite pale, and her features had assumed a new expression.
"Of whom am I speaking?" I said; "of him who, on that evening when I kept watch at your window, ran from me like a craven; and who last night, as I was coming with your father from Trantowitz, and took the way through the woods alone, tried to conceal himself under the trees; whom I spared out of pity, for I knew that had I betrayed the pitiful wretch, Herr von Zehren would have shot him dead like a dog. Let him take care I do not meet him again in the night or by day either: he will see how much I respect his princeship!"
Constance had turned away while I thus gave vent in anger to the despair I felt at leaving the beloved maiden forever. Suddenly she turned her pale face again upon me, with eyes flashing with a strange light, and exclaimed, holding out her hands as if in supplication:
"That I should hear this from you!--from you! How can I help it if that man--supposing you were not mistaken, which yet is quite possible--is driven restlessly about by his evil conscience? It is unhappy enough for him, if it be so; but how does that concern me? And how can any danger from that quarter threaten me? And were he now--or at any time and anywhere--to come before me, what would I, what could I say, but 'We can be nothing to each other, you and I, now nor at any future time.' I thought, George, you knew all this without my telling you. How can I wonder that the others so misjudge me, when your judgment of me is so false, so cruelly false?"
She resumed her seat upon the divan and buried her face in her hands. I lost all control of myself, paced the room in agitation, and finally, seeing her bosom heaving with her emotion, threw myself in despair at her feet.
"My dear, good George," she said, laying her hands on my shoulders. "I know well that you love me; and I, too, am very fond of you."
The tears rolled down my cheeks. I hid my face in her dress, and covered her hands with kisses.
"Stand up, George," she whispered, "I hear old Pahlen coming."
I sprang up. In truth the door opened slowly--I think it had never been entirely closed--and the ugly old woman looked in and asked if she had been called.
Yes, she had been called. Herr George, who was going to visit Herr von Trantow for a day or two, had probably some orders to give.