“Yes, child,” was the reply, “and your old godfather had thought of bringing this evil cause before our royal master. He gladly exercises mercy, but only after carefully investigating the pros and cons. In this case there is but one person in whom he has full confidence, and who is also in a position to tell him the exact truth.”
“Heinz Schorlin!” cried Eva. “He must be informed at once, without delay.”
“Certainly,” replied Herr Pfinzing quietly. “And since, as the uncle and godfather of Jungfrau Eva, who would have gladly undertaken the ride, I could not order her horse to be saddled, I sent some one else whose heart also will point out the way.”
“Uncle!” Eva eagerly interrupted, raising her clasped hands in gratitude. “But whom can you——”
Here she hesitated, then suddenly exclaimed as if sure of her point: “Oh, I know the messenger, Countess von Montfort——”
“You’ve aimed too high,” replied Herr Berthold smiling, “yet I think the choice was no worse. Your maid, child, the poor fellow’s sweetheart.”
Frau Christine and Eva, in the same breath, uttered an exclamation of surprise and assent, and both asked how the magistrate had chanced to select her.
A waggon from Schwabach, which happened opportunely to be on its way to Siebenburg, had brought Biberli to Schweinau on its homeward trip, just before the magistrate and his wife reached the hospital.
Katterle had been present when the tortured man was brought out and laid upon his couch of straw.
She did not recognise him until, with pathetic reproach, he called her by name and, horrified by the spectacle he presented, she fell upon her knees. But the couch at her side had already been prepared for him, and she did not need to rise again in order to stroke him, comfort him, and promise not to desert him, even if he should be a miserable cripple for life.