He embraced and kissed the former in a passion of tenderness, but toward the latter he bore himself with shyness and reserve, hardly able to believe it was actually his Edith.
"So it is all true that the papers tell us?" he asked his mother, pointing to the newspapers on his table.
The baroness glanced at the marked items. "That is but a thousandth part of the truth," she replied.
"I must believe it now," he rejoined, "from the mere fact that you are here before me as a living proof." He struck the table an emphatic blow. "Henceforth no general shall order my movements! You only shall command me, mother. What would you have me do?"
The baroness drew Edith to her side, and then turned to her son. "This girl has told me what to ask of you. Only an hour ago I myself was at a loss how to proceed."
"Edith!" whispered the young man, caressing the little hand extended toward him. "But how has it all come about?"
"This convent pupil," replied the mother with a tender look at Edith, "overheard a plot that was forming for your destruction. Whatever course you choose, you are a dead man if you tarry here longer. Arrest for desertion on the one hand, and assassination on the other, threaten you. And this dear girl, without a moment's loss of time, without stopping to weep and wring her hands in despair, escaped from her guardians and sought me out in the dead of night, to beg me make all haste and save you while there was yet time."
"Edith!" stammered the young man once more, overcome by his feelings.
"These are times," continued the baroness, "when mothers are calling their sons home; but you have refused to listen to that call."
"I will listen now, mother; only tell me what to do."