“Trude, be quiet,” commanded Ebenstreit; “the general orders to give up the key—do it!”
“Yes, do it at once,” shrieked Frau von Werrig, “or I will dismiss you from my service.”
“That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will not give up the key.”
“The door is old, and with a good push one could open it,” said Leberecht.
“Come, my son, let us see,” said the mother.
They hastened up to the room, while the general scolded, furiously that he must sit still. Leberecht and Trude cast furious, menacing glances at each other.
Suddenly a loud crash was heard.
“They have broken open the door!” cried the general.
“I said that it was old and frail—what do you say now, beautiful Trude?”
The old woman wiped with her hand the drops of perspiration from her forehead, caused by her anguish. “You are a bad fellow, and God will punish you for your treason, that you have tormented a noble, unhappy girl. I saw that you were an eavesdropper, and you know all.”