"Will you have soup or potato-broth?" inquired Barbette, feverishly brandishing her spoon in her despair.
"Both, my good woman."
The cook held him back. "But, Mr. Wohlfart, there are no eggs for the family; indeed, there is not an egg in the whole house. Mercy on us! to think of this misfortune happening to-day, of all days. What will the baron say when he has no fresh egg this evening?"
"The devil take the eggs!" cried Anton, impatiently; "we must not be so particular to-day."
As he returned, Fink called to him, "All is ready; we may now quietly await their arrival. I am going to the tower, and taking a few good shots with me. If any thing happens, I am to be found there."
And again the hall was empty and the house quiet. The sentinels stood silently watching the edge of the forest; the rest of the men sat talking in a low voice in the guard-room; but the noise was unceasing in the apartment where the children were, and a constant communication was kept up between the kitchen and the occupied rooms in the lower story. Anton walked to and fro in restless suspense from the house to the court, and back again to his own room, where he tied the baron's papers together; then through the passages and to the guard-room. In this way one quarter of an hour after another passed, till at length Lenore came from her mother's room crying, "This uncertainty is intolerable!"
"And we have no tidings from the farm either," replied Anton, anxiously; "but the rain is over, and whatever happens to-day will happen in sunshine. The clouds are breaking yonder, and the blue sky is seen through them. How is the baroness?"
"She is calm," said Lenore, "and prepared for every thing."
Both walked silently up and down the hall. At last Lenore went up to Anton, and passionately exclaimed, "Wohlfart, it is horrible to me to think of you in a position such as this for our sakes."
"Is this position, then, so terrible?" asked Anton, with, a mournful smile.