"You know that the Sovereign would be the last to infringe the rules of the Court. There is no reason for anxiety."
"At all events, the Princess must maintain her position. I hear this Professor's wife is considered a beauty?"
"I believe she is also a woman of high character," replied the Chamberlain.
The Professor received the desired permission. Ilse made her preparations for the journey with a solemn seriousness which struck all around her. She was now to approach the presence of her Sovereign, whom she had regarded from a distance with shy respect. It made her heart heavy to think that the son had never spoken of his father, and that she knew nothing of her illustrious master but his countenance and manner. She asked herself, anxiously: "How will he treat Felix and me?"
Whilst Felix was collecting all the books and documents which were indispensable for the journey, the Doctor was standing sorrowfully in his friend's room. He was satisfied that the Professor could not withdraw from the duty of seeking for the manuscript; and yet his invitation to Court did not please him. The sudden breaking of their tranquil life disturbed him, and he sometimes looked anxiously at Ilse.
Laura sat, the last evening, near Ilse, leaning on her shoulder, weeping. "It appears to me," said the latter, "that something portentous lies in my path, and I go in fear. But I leave you without anxiety for your future, although you have sometimes made me uneasy, you stubborn little puss; for I know there is one who will always be your best adviser, even though you should seldom see each other."
"I lose him when I lose you," cried Laura, in tears. "All vanishes that has been the happiness of my life. In the little garden which I have secretly laid out for myself, the blossoms are torn up by the roots, the bitter trial of deprivation has come to me also; and poor Fritz, who already was practicing resignation, will now be quite lost in his hermitage."
Even Gabriel, who was to accompany the travelers to the capital and await their return home from abroad at the house of Ilse's father, was excited during this period, and often disappeared into the house of Mr. Hahn when it became dark. The last day he brought home from the market a beautiful bird of uncommon appearance, with colored feathers, pasted on a sheet, with the inscription: "Peacock from Madagascar." Gabriel wrote, in addition, in clear, stiff characters: "Faithful unto death." This he took in the evening to the enemy's house. A whispering might be heard there, and a pocket-handkerchief be seen, which wiped the tears from sorrowful eyes.
"No allusion is meant to the name of this family," said Gabriel, holding the bird once more in the moonlight, the beams of which fell through the staircase window upon two sorrowful faces; "but it occurred to me as a remembrance. When you look at it think of me, and the words I have written on it. We must part, but it is hard to do so." The honest fellow pulled out his pocket-handkerchief.
Dorchen took it from him; she had forgotten her own, and wiped her eyes with it.