A man came running out of the wood towards the castle.
“Ah, here comes one of my men,” the Count said. “He evidently brings news. I will see what it is.”
He hastened from the room, leaving Ruperta in a vaguely uneasy state of mind. Very soon he returned, and she saw in his face, as somehow she had anticipated, that he had unpleasant news to give her.
“I am placed in an awkward position,” he said, in reply to her look of inquiry. “My man, who accompanied the Lieutenant and his friend, tells me a story so strange that I hesitate to make it known to you.”
“Please tell me at once—everything,” Ruperta said with compressed lips.
He affected to hesitate for a moment, then said, “It appears that the Lieutenant and Captain von Ompertz have, for some unaccountable reason, taken their departure without you.”
She stared at him for a few moments as though not realizing the news.
“Gone without us?” she said, with quiet incredulity.
He made a grave sign of confirmation. “I fear it is but too true,” he maintained sympathetically. “They have gone, under circumstances which leave, I fear, no doubt as to their intention.”
The notion was so preposterous that it scarcely moved her.