"Now, your excellency," he said, rising quickly, "now I am ready to brave all dangers. Farewell!" He waved his hand again to the minister, and left the room.
"He will outstrip Natzmer," said Hardenberg, gazing after him; "it is an arrow of love which I have discharged, and it will not miss its aim. And now let us see how it is about the other arrow of love, which mes chers amis mes ennemis would like to discharge at me!" He rang the bell. Conrad, his faithful old footman, entered the room.
"Has there no note come for me?" asked Hardenberg.
"Yes, there has, your excellency," said Conrad, in a low and anxious tone. "Two letters, your excellency."
"Give them to me."
Conrad cast a searching glance over the room; he then drew two tiny, neatly-folded letters from his bosom and handed them to the minister. "She herself was here," he whispered, "and seemed very sad when I told her his excellency was not at home, and at first she refused to believe what I said. Only when I swore to her it was true, she gave me the first note. She returned afterward and brought the second letter."
"But why do you tell me all this in so mysterious and timid a manner? Are you afraid lest some one has concealed himself, and plays the eavesdropper?"
"Not that exactly, your excellency," whispered Conrad; "but—the walls might have ears!" He pointed furtively at the ceiling of the room.
"Ah, we are here under my wife's bedroom," said Hardenberg, laughing. "You are afraid lest she should be awake, and overhear our words through the floor of her room."
"Madame von Hardenberg sees, hears, and divines every thing," said
Conrad, with an air of dismay.