"Heaven be praised!" cried the father clasping his hands.
"But her uncle, the minister, had discovered their intimacy. He has sworn the destruction of your son. I have been fortunate enough to baffle him. But Friedemann must instantly leave Dresden."
"He shall!" cried Sebastian. "My poor son needs comfort; he can find it only at home."
"Then he may come to you?"
"Could a father repel his unhappy child? I know, alas! his fiery soul, his need of sympathy. Bring him to his loving father's arms."
Scherbitz caught the old man's hand and warmly pressed it.
"Friedemann is saved!" he exclaimed.
He left the room and the house, promising soon to return. Sebastian sat long in a mournful reverie. Then seating himself at the piano, he played a soft prelude, and sang a beautiful melody by Paul Gerhard. The music swelled into majestic harmony, and many a passer-by in the street stopped to listen, drinking in peace and consolation from the heavenly sounds.
Faustina Hasse, the most beautiful woman in Dresden, and the greatest dramatic singer not only of her own, but perhaps of all times, was reclining on a sofa in a luxuriously-furnished room in her palace. Flowers stood on a table beside her, and several costly trifles were thrown about; but she was simply dressed in white muslin, with a necklace and bracelets of pearls. Her little foot in its satin slipper beat impatiently the footstool on which it rested; there was a tint of painful excitement on her cheek; and a touch of melancholy about her mouth softened the pride that usually masked her lovely features.