She had risen, and she stood there before me with a halo of moonshine above her head. The hot blood rushed to my ears. Barmaid, Socialist, or whatever she might be, she was lovable. In a moment I was kissing her hand, the hand so small, so white, and yet so firm. A thousand inarticulate words came to my lips—from my heart! Did the hand tremble? I thought so. But swiftly she drew it from my clasp, all the joy and gladness gone from her face and eyes.
"No, no!" she cried; "this must not be; it must not be!"
"But I——" I began eagerly.
"You must not say it; I command you. If you speak, Gretchen will be Gretchen no more. Yes, the King seeks Gretchen; but will you drive her away from her only haven?" with a choking sound.
"Gretchen, trust me. Shall I go to-morrow? Shall I leave you in peace?" Somehow I believed myself to be in danger. "Speak!"
There was an interval of stillness, broken only by the beating of hearts. Then:
"Stay. But speak no word of love; it is not for such as I. Stay and be my friend, for I need one. Cannot a woman look with favor upon a man but he must needs become her lover? I shall trust you as I have trusted other men. And though you fail me in the end, as others have done, still I shall trust you. Herr, I conspire against the King. For what? The possession of my heart. All my life I have stood alone, so alone."
"I will be your friend, Gretchen; I will speak no word of love. Will that suffice?"
"It is all I ask, dear friend. And now will you leave me?"
"Leave you?" I cried. "I thought you bade me stay?"