After considerable labor he made out the meaning of this letter, written, as it was in a half-German, half-Danish gibberish, of the orthography of which we have given a specimen in the direction. The letter was from the German Heinrich. He besought Otto to meet him this evening in the wood near Peter Cripple’s house, and he would give to him an explanation which should be worth the trouble of the walk. It would occasion, he said, much trouble and much misery to Mr Thostrup if he did not go.
A strange anxiety penetrated Otto. How could he steal away without being missed? and yet go he both must and should. An extraordinary anxiety drove him forth.
“Yes, the sooner the better!” said he, hastening down the steps and leaping in haste over the low garden-fence lest the gate should, perhaps, make a noise. He was very soon in the wood: he heard the beating of his own heart.
“Eternal Father!” said he, “strengthen my soul! Release me from this anxiety which overpowers me! Let all be for the best!”
He had now reached Peter Cripple’s house. A figure leaned against the wall; Otto paused, measured it with his eye to ascertain who it was, and recognized German Heinrich.
“What do you want with me?” inquired Otto.
Heinrich raised his hand in token of silence, beckoned him forward, and opened a little gate which led to the back of the house. Otto mechanically followed him.
“It goes on badly at the hall,” said Heinrich. “Sidsel is really put in prison, and will be taken to-morrow to Odense, to the red house by the river.”
“It is what she has deserved!” said Otto. “I did not bring it about.”
“O no!” answered Heinrich; “in a certain way we bring nothing about; but you can put in a good word for her. You must see that this punishment does not befall her.”