“Through my persuasion and her own good sense. She understands that, if she cannot marry her dear Moritz, Herr Ebenstreit is the most fit husband, because he loves her, and is so generous to her old parents. One thing she would like an answer to—can I accompany her to her new home?”
“Yes, old woman, it will be very agreeable to have so sensible a person,” said Ebenstreit. “Tell Marie that it gives me pleasure to fulfil her wish.”
“In that case I would repeat that Fraulein begs for indulgence and forbearance until to-morrow, and would like to remain alone to compose herself.”
“I do not wish, in the least, to see her,” said her mother; “she can do what she likes until then.”
“I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice,” cried Trude.
“Tell her, from her father, that it is very agreeable to him not to see her pale, wretched-looking face again till morning.—Now, my son, pay attention, and you, Trude, do not presume to interrupt us again. Leberecht, play out my ace of hearts.”
The latter, with his eyes cast down, and with a perfectly indifferent manner, played the card indicated, and Trude left the room quietly and unobserved.
“Every thing is arranged, my child,” said Trude, as she re-entered Marie’s room. “They are playing cards, which always lasts two hours, then Herr Ebenstreit goes away, and the family will go to bed. You have eighteen hours, before you will be discovered. Hark! it strikes seven, and it is already quite dark. When the post-horn sounds, then it is time.”
“Oh, Trude! my dear mother, my heart almost ceases to beat, with anxiety, and I quake with fear,” sighed Marie. “I am conscious that I have commenced a fearful undertaking!”
“They have driven you to it—it is not your fault,” said Trude, consolingly. “Every human being is free to work out his own good or bad fortune, and, as our dear Old Fritz says, ‘to be happy in the future world in his own way.’ They have sold you for money, and you only prove to them that you are no slave.”