Her face was serious and anxious, but her large black eyes flashed with expectation, and the parted lips showed that hope was stronger than fear in her young heart. Marie was the only child of the chief burgomaster of Esslingen, and the lady at her side was his honored wife.
"Do you see nothing, my child?" said the mother. "Great God! this suspense is worse than death! Your father expected to be back within an hour, and more than two hours have gone by!"
The young girl strained her eyes, and looked up the castle-road, which was just opposite the house. "Mother," said she, "I see something dark issuing from the gates."
"Oh, look again! Is it they?"
"Yes; I think so, dear mother. I see them advancing: it must be father and the deputies. Now I begin to distinguish one from the other. There are one—two—three. Great God, mother! were there not seven? I see but six!"
"Yes—seven. Your father, two burgomasters, and four senators. Are you sure? Look—count once more."
"I see them distinctly now: there are six. They will be hidden presently by the winding of the road; but I see them each one as he turns aside."
"And there are but six! One of them is missing! Oh, merciful Father, which of them can it be?"
"I see them no longer. Alas! they are too far for recognition, and we must wait. Oh, mother, how my heart pains me!"
"Let us pray, my darling," returned the mother, clasping her daughter's trembling hands.