It must be he, and yet it was not, for he never came up with such slow and dragging feet.
Then the study door opened.
It was he!
What could have happened, what had the citizens determined?
With an anxious heart, she told Trautchen to stay with the child, and then went to her husband.
Peter sat at the writing-table in full official uniform, with his hat still on his head. His face lay buried on his folded arms, beside the sconce.
He saw nothing, heard nothing, and when she at last called him, started, sprang up and flung his hat violently on the table. His hair was dishevelled, his glance restless, and in the faint light of the glimmering candles his cheeks looked deadly pale.
“What do you want?” he asked curtly, in a harsh voice; but for a time Maria made no reply, fear paralyzed her tongue.
At last she found words, and deep anxiety was apparent in her question:
“What has happened?”