“She is gone!” shrieked the mother, rushing into the room.
“The room is empty,” cried Ebenstreit. “Marie is not there. Tell us, Leberecht, what you know about it.”
“I will, if we can agree about the pay—the old woman bothers me, and beg the young gentleman to go into the next room with me.”
“O Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little Marie,” murmured Trude, kneeling, and covering her face.
Ebenstreit in the mean time withdrew to the other room, followed by the servant.
“Speak!” commanded his master, “and tell me what you have to say.”
Leberecht shrugged his shoulders. “We are two men who have urgent business with each other. I am not at present a servant and you the master. I am a man who has an important secret to sell, and you are the man who would buy it.”
“What strange, unheard-of language is this?” said Ebenstreit, astonished.
“The language of a man who cannot only deprive the rich banker Ebenstreit of a lovely wife, but of his title also. You said yourself, sir, this morning, that it was only valid if you succeeded in marrying the daughter of General von Leuthen. No none knows where you can find your bride but me.”
“And Trude,” said Ebenstreit, quickly.