"The Jew did not come back the next day, but Baron Harald. He brought several gentlemen with him. They had been hunting, and were very tired. This made them retire earlier, after having drunk a few bottles of wine.
"I might have been a few hours in bed without being able to sleep, for it rained and blew that night fiercely, and the shutters creaked, and the hounds howled.--Then I heard a soft step in the passage before my door, and a hand seeking the knob of my door; somebody came in and walked up to my bed.--'Who is that?' I cried. 'It is I, Mother Claus,' said a low voice. It was Marie. 'Are you sick, child?'--'No,' she said, sitting down on my bed, 'I only come to say good-by to you, and to thank you for all the love and kindness you have shown me.' I thought she was going to take her own life, and said, horrified: 'For God's sake, child, what do you mean?'--'Don't be afraid, Mother Claus,' she said, and embraced me amid hot tears; 'I am going, but only from here. I have long wished it, and now the hour has come.'--'Why now?' I asked, 'where will you go to now, at night, and in such a night? Don't you hear how rain and wind howl with the hounds? And you know not the way.... You run into the jaws of death, and if you do not think of yourself, think at least of the child.'--'I am thinking of it,' she replied. 'It must not see the light here where its mother has been so very wretched; it must never know who its father was. Farewell, dear Mother Claus! may God bless you and preserve you! And fear not for me: I am not going alone; I have somebody with me, who will protect me and watch over me, and who would give his life for me.'--'Are you quite sure of that, child? I thought you had learnt what to think of the vows of men? Who is it?'--'I cannot tell you,' she replied, 'and now I must be gone.' She had risen from the bed. 'Wait,' I said, 'I will at least see you out of the castle.'
"She begged me to stay, but I did not mind her; I had soon put on some clothes; I was firmly determined not to let her go, till I was quite sure that she knew what she was about. I was still afraid she might think of suicide.
"When she saw that I was not to be turned aside from my purpose, she helped me to dress, and said: 'Well, then, come, Mother Claus; at least he will see now, that I have not been forsaken by everybody here.'
"We went, holding each other's hand, on tip-toe down the passages, then down the staircase which leads from the old castle into the garden. It had ceased raining, and the moon was shining at intervals through the black drifting clouds. I still held Marie's hand in mine; she hastened onward, drawing me after her through the familiar avenues. When we passed a bench in one of the darker walks, where she had often been sitting with Harald, she stopped for a moment, and I felt her hand tremble. But she recovered herself instantly. 'No, no,' she whispered: 'he is right, Harold has never loved me, and I must not stay here any longer.'
"We went through the garden into the court-yard, and through it and the great gates into the forest, on the road to Berkow. When we had gone a few hundred yards, a man came to meet us. 'It is he,' said Marie; 'you must leave me now, Mother Claus; I have promised him to come alone, and not to tell anybody that I am going.'--'You ought not to have promised that, child; I think I have a right to know what is to become of you.'
"In the mean time the man had come near, 'Is that you, Marie?' he said. 'Why do you not come alone?'--'Because I did not let her,' I said, 'and because I shall not let her go until I know what is to become of her.'--'She is in God's care and under the protection of a friend,' said the man. His words sounded so truthful and safe, that all my anxiety vanished in a moment.
"The moon peeped forth from the clouds, and I could see the man, who was now walking by our side, more distinctly. He was small, and not very young, and had a hooked nose, like the Jew of the day before. He had on a long overcoat, and when the wind blew it open I noticed by the light of the moon the muzzle of a pistol, which he wore in a belt around his waist.
"A few yards farther, a carriage with two horses was standing. 'It is high time,' said the man on the box. He spoke Low German, and I thought I knew his voice. 'Quick, quick,' said the man with the spectacles, and drew Marie to the step, which had been let down. 'Good-by, good-by,' she sobbed, embracing me once more; and as her head was resting for a moment on my shoulder, she whispered in my ear: 'Tell him I have forgiven all, all!'--'Quick, quick! Marie,' exclaimed the man impatiently, stamping with his foot, and helped her into the carriage; then he turned to me: 'If you really love the unfortunate girl,' he said, 'keep this secret for forty-eight hours. I am prepared for everything, but I should wish for Marie's sake that we should have no use for this;' and he struck his hand upon the pistol.--'Rely on me,' I said, 'and I will rely on you.'--'You can do that safely,' he replied; 'all men are not scoundrels and barons.'
"He jumped into the carriage and closed the door. The horses started, and already, a few minutes later, I heard nothing but the wind in the pine-trees.