Strong though the sentiment of friendship that existed between him and Heinrich, Charlie shrunk from making a confidant of him, as he knew but too well that his aristocratic prejudices and native ambition would preclude him from having any sympathy with such a secret love, or giving it the least encouragement.
So the days of joy stole away at Frankenburg, till Charlie began to reckon sadly the few that yet remained, when time would inexorably separate him from Ernestine, and, too probably, for ever.
Did she suspect that he loved her?
A hundred times had Charlie asked this question of himself in doubt: he was not an egotist; but every glance of her soft hazel eyes—that seemed, he knew not why, something between a caress and a compliment, together with a dash of entreaty—might have told him that he was far, far indeed from being indifferent to her.
In the spirit of the old song, he often thought,
'He either fears his fate too much,
Or his desert is small,
Who dare not put it to the touch
To win or lose it all.'
If 'things did not turn,' in time—and for him how could they turn? it was torment to think of losing her by his own silence and diffidence; of seeing her, perhaps, won by another, far his inferior in bearing and spirit, while he hungered for her smile, doted on her shadow, and alternately blessed and banned the hour that brought him to the Castle of Frankenburg.
He thanked Heaven that there was this impending war with France before them. On the banks of the Rhine, or before the walls of Paris, if he ever reached it, a French bullet might end it all for him, and he would never have the horror and sorrow of knowing that she was the bride of another; and so on, and on, day by day, when by her side, talking with her and enjoying all the sweet charms of her society, did this honest fellow torment himself, for we may, in the matters of love and jealousy, torment ourselves far more than others can.
Of this, a terror of every possible parti who approached her was one element, especially if rich or titled.
There was Baron Grünthal, who came about Ernestine more than Charlie relished. He was a man of great influence, and Oberconsistorial Director of the Court at Aix, not over forty, and rather good-looking. Even the daughter of a Count might be pleased to become Baroness Grünthal.