"But why may not I come with you?" asked Marie, in a troubled tone.
"Where I go you cannot accompany me. I am going to steal through the lines of Ludwig's camp."
"You are going to Ludwig?" interrupted the young girl.
"Yes, to deliver into his hands the casket containing your belongings. After that I—I don't know what will become of me."
"Katharina! Don't frighten me so! Do you imagine that Ludwig will cease to love you when he learns you are a widow, and that you had a daughter?"
"Oh, no; he will not hate me because I had a daughter," returned Katharina, shaking her head sadly, "but because my wickedness destroyed her."
"Don't talk so, Katharina," again expostulated Marie.
"Why, don't you see that she is dead? Look at these closed eyes, the white face! Ask these closed lips to open and tell you that I did not murder her!"
"Katharina, this is not true! Your enemies have told you this to grieve you. Look at these two pictures! There is not the least resemblance between them. This pale one is not your daughter. He who told you so lied cruelly."